Love is Air

     There are so many things I want to tell you about, _______, but I can’t. Now and forever more. There will be a time when we can converse again but I don’t know when. This is how time is heavy, the things we would like to have said, would like to say again. We are repeating stories to see if there's any thing new in there or just for the sound of your voice mixing with my voice. The reverberations are the echoing that goes beyond the words or the meaning and only singing begins to vibrate in concordance with those tones, those intonations that I remember and wish I could be remembering more. Singing! And so we must a break create. I’m sorry, I’m sorry! A break, create, in the song.

    Some say that no one knows about love, really. But I'd say we all know about love really. From just being born and the first breath of air! Such a gas, really, not kidding -that this thing called air is unknown and then, ALL over and inside as well! I’d say love is air. Especially the inside part, if you know what I mean? But can we breathe with that forever is more the question - or become separated in our minds and limbs and finally our hearts? Finally our hearts. A broken heart could just be the broken part giving up on rhythm of muscle lust to meet blood to vital oxygen, that love juice in air, ah yes, sing! sing! Squeeze air with words with vague but connected meaning towards the outside air, squeeze and push as if there were extra space in outside winds, the dream leads the way. The mind’s dream circles again, remember!? The words are a scent of a dream.

 

    We are but the dream of our grandparents and the words of our parents. We are the dreamland of great grandparents and errant uncles and all those they met and breathed air with until, lungs full, they talked about the weather. We are the intention of great great grandparents, all 16 of them exactly, quite a group though most hadn’t met but their air invariably did, the air meets all air, is all air, and rides the land like wild horses or worms or fungus anywhere. Or maybe the land is held by air, the earth gloved in space by velvety loving air, who knows how that one gust of wind started and where its going as it tosses branches of my tree this way and that and is gone again moments later?

    Who knows when love comes and goes, but a child knows, if not an orphan to an institution at birth. If they got at least a semblance of care then the person is off to the races, running, jumping towards love of life. And possibly someday love of another and love of groups and of the earth itself. The earth is the hardest to attain, pulled as it is by the love from outer space, the stars and moon, the planets and sun which whirls it deftly around its finger like a wedding band beyond any mere gold or silver, even diamond encrusted. Diamonds are forever, my ass! You’ve never seen the love from space, quasars and black holes echoing pure power, more pure then anything on earth could begin to imagine. Which is why Satan was invented I suppose, a false prophet of anti-love, he was never really fleshed out in the Bible anyways, a half hearted attempt to resonate with the love and loveless and sheer power of outer-space. The way the speed of light is the limit of everything. Ah yes _________ dearest, we were just getting started with  questions and statements of love. The earth is only the tail of that particular tiger. 

    Or perhaps the tail of the lowly worm as well! We crawled along in the dirt of the last couple years, stopping our love and starting and not talking about shit we should’ve said. All having to do with other people by the way, we can’t hide in closets forever as you know, the air is stale, the dirt needs fresh air or dust it does become. And death is dust, a powder this earth will become in the fires of climate change, can you feel the coming dust of tomorrow? Time to start talking then! Out of the closet, into the earth air fresh from warming cold arctics, the scent of melting snow and ice fragrant with aeon’s ago air trapped and closeted air mixing in. Yes, we may have Mississippi sun glaring in Philly today and arctic ice air from 10,000 years ago mixing like old timey jig dancers, the fiddle has been earth wide and plays the earth and air song well! Ah love, can we ride that song into a maturity unknowable to institutionalized orphans who think anarchy is but the inability to speak across distances with love? When they separate the government of humans from each other, from sharing air and love, when tear gas must fly !!! that is when air must be known as love and anarchism will be known clearly as the love of non-hierarchy. No hierarchy between love and space, between air and earth, between God and Satan and Goddess.

    And marriage should know at least a little of this, no capturing… no closeting, the only way out is through flesh and blood, and words of love air. Break love to make love ______, is that what they say? And thus for the hearth of earth, the place where all words are possible and desired! All words are both desired and Desire, perhaps. So, where and when is that? Ha ha ha and lolz on top, where and when is all I want to know of you and you and you and them and those over there. Connect the dots like a gust of wind over a calm day at the Bermuda Triangle, wherever that is exactly. Hopefully not a lonely place, or a place without a little spending cash.

 

 

-Pics are taken of my tv screen, from the movie "Love and Anarchy", by Lina Wertmuller. One of the best movies I've seen in quite a while. The anarchist assasin wants to get Mussolini, but stops in his cousin's whorehouse first, where he falls in love and learns all kinds of stuff. It is a truly gorgeous movie with depth and comedy both.

The Stone House in the Wood

    Once there was a boy, with two younger brothers, who lived in the wood in a house made of stone with his mother. His father had been chased off by his mother not very long ago. 

-You good for nothing! Scram! -she had shouted! -I’m the most unhappy person you could imagine. I need freedom from your boring ways!

    So the father had left, sad and lonely, out the back door and wandered for a year until far away by the ocean, a fisher woman took pity on him and gave him room and board in her cottage with a cute thatched roof. Which, of course,  turned into a loving if feisty marriage. They were always shouting at each other.

-I’m the one who took pity on you, you need to shape up and ease my loneliness! -she would shout with an annoying edge.

-But you’re so wealthy from all the fish mongering at the market that you should just relax and enjoy my company! What’s your problem, fish woman, fish are good! -he would whisper and then shout back. 

I’ll go to the market for you from here on out -he added and so placated her and they began to enjoy their fish together at the thatched cottage by the sea.

    Meanwhile, back in the wood, the boy and his brothers missed the father and were getting tired of being called boring by their mother in the stone house.

-We’re not boring, we’re just kids! -the oldest brother would say.

-We’re not boring, we’re still learning about the wood. -said the second brother.

-We’re not boring, plus we don’t even like this stone house! -said the third and youngest brother.

    But the bored mother would only say -I think only another woman can help me with my situation, its a spiritual thing, you wouldn’t understand. What would you know of such deep and wide reaching matters, you’re just kids!

    So the three boys sat down by the fire one night and over a cup of steaming broth they discussed the dilemma.

-She’s right -said the oldest brother -We know nothing of women and their dilemmas.

-Yes! -said the middle brother -how can we help her and ourselves at the same time?

-I know! -said the youngest brother, who had only recently began to talk and was hardly walking -We’ll go find father and ask him!

-No -said the oldest brother, -I’m the oldest and I’ll go alone. I can’t get through these woods and watch out for you two at the same time. There’s wolves and bears and snakes out there.

-O my goddess! -said the middle brother. -Yes. Snakes!

-And wolves! -said the youngest brother.

-And bears! -said the oldest. -But I’m a fast runner! I’ll leave tomorrow morning at first light.

    So the three brothers worked together to pack the oldest brother’s satchel and at the crack of dawn, he set out, down the path and out of sight around the curve. The two younger brothers stood in the doorway watching him go and began to feel even lonelier. But soon enough a gigantic thunderstorm gathered its dark clouds overhead. It seemed for a few minutes as if it might be a hurricane the winds were howling so. But instead the rains just fell in sheets and the stone house grew very damp.

    And yes, over at the cottage by the sea side the waves grew very tall and very nearly washed away the fisher woman and her newish beau, because their cottage only had a thatched roof. But it held and the rain washed away to the sea. A rainbow came out after that. And the silver tongued father and the fisher woman knew everything would be ok.