'The intellectual rights of all texts, images, videos presented in this blog belong with their creators and/or publishers. They are presented here only for personal use and not for any monetary gain whatsoever.'
THE LITTLE BLONDE GIRL I like the sea because we are alike I like it, I heard you saying to yourself, for sometimes it is wild , it roars, it sighs, and sometimes it is playful, full of laughter. Isn’t the sea blonde just like my hair? Isn’t my bosom like its froth? Don’t I have waves and sky — and a grave in my eyes? I like the sea because we are alike, and yet the beasts of the world hide inside it. But doesn’t an insatiate love, the fiercest flame, hide also in my heart? So I was glad to see you pouting, dripping poison in my soul. I exulted when your spite and jealousy boiled your breath upon your lips. Then I put my arms around your neck and quenched your thirst with kisses, hid my face beneath your hair and built a nest within your bosom. My wild wave, enough, my soul, I beg you, quench your fury, lie down next to me, let me become your safe, still harbour, since what’s the value of the sea without a shore?
… the exquisite caresses their sirens don’t fool us they only point to us the friendly way to the harbours: to the women we love the women we love have a holy substance and when we hug them tightly we become the same as the gods we stand erect like strong towers nothing can tumble us anymore they embrace us with their white arms and all the people come nations too and bow before us and they cry out our immortal name in the eons since the women we love transfer that holy substance to us
Potter At the edge of the village we arrived at the half lit house with a small yard and bloomed jasmines. The air smelled of love undone as if all evil was forgiven. Before we entered we heard the potter’s wheel singing circular notes and joyous messages that with intensity reflected on our wild youth. Methodically the wheel transcended mud into exquisite vessels. Palms pressed, fingers morphed birds and miracles; suddenly the world gained its meaning like the sun in the thought of a cloudy day. An amphora, a cylix, and Übermensch closed the blinds so creation wouldn’t escape. His movement as easy as the potter’s. Two Übermenschen and a hovel full of beautiful words.
I had cut my hair and shaved my beard and tonsure with a sharp piece of cane, but my skin was covered in scabs and pink dots. Nonetheless, they scrutinized me with renewed interest. Guacaipuro invited me with a gesture to take my place among them. I nodded and sat on my heels as the others did, arms crossed over my knees, but I lost my balance and sat backwards ungracefully, causing them to laugh. Nobody engaged me in conversation, possibly because they did not wish to hear Tamanoa’s voice at their council. They conversed with one another as they normally would. After a while, when the light was fading and the fire glowed, the women brought food and chicha, a drink made out of macerated corn. Tamanoa took care not to eat. I accepted a small gourd with the milky drink from Urquía, who I later learned was Guacaipuro’s wife, and raised it to heaven asking for a blessing. They observedmy actions.Abig earthenware pot rested on the embers of the central fire, aroundwhich we all sat. It boiled, filling the air with a pleasant, meaty smell. Some kind of stew, I thought. They had wild pigs and strange birds that would do well. When a second round of chicha was finished, the men were attracted to the boiling pot. I was feeling more confident myself and hungry. It was then that Apacuana emerged from the shadows behind Baruta and gave me a twinkling look. Urquía, who was capable of catching a whiff of catmint in a eucalyptus forest, didn’t miss it. She pierced Apacuana with a warning look and called her to her side. Though childbirth had taken its toll on Urquía’s body, her face and complexion were delicate and beautiful. Yet there was no mistaking the strength behind her fine features. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, her wordswere darts that nevermissed their target. And one could see she lived for her husband’s every desire. She opened the earthenware pot by sliding away a banana leaf that covered it. A big cassava cake was cracked and everyone, including me, received a piece. The men sank their gourds
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 