Music Playlist: Chapter One, The Nature of Love

Dearest Poetry Nappers,

Please relish and delight in the poetry of the lyrics and the extraordinary music of these sterling songwriters and musicians from the music playlist from Poetry Nap · Chapter One, The Nature of Love.

Surreally, ethereally, and really yours,

Lady & Lord Dosis


When I Was The Forest · by Meister Eckhard

When I was the stream, when I was the
forest, when I was still the field,
when I was every hoof, foot,
fin and wing, when I
was the sky
itself,

no one ever asked me did I have a purpose, no one ever
wondered was there anything I might need,
for there was nothing
I could not
love.

It was when I left all we once were that
the agony began, the fear and questions came,
and I wept, I wept. And tears
I had never known
before.

So I returned to the river, I returned to
the mountains. I asked for their hand in marriage again,
I begged—I begged to wed every object
and creature,

and when they accepted,
Love was ever present in my arms.
And Love did not say,
“Where have you
been?”

For then I knew my soul—every soul—
has always held
Love.

Translation by Daniel Ladinsky
Close your eyes and listen to Lady & Lord Dosis read this poem.


STARS n LOVE · by Lady and Lord Dosis

You wander through us
Like fire in our blood.
We are your origin story,
We are your light.
Reach your fingertips, caress our glow.
Golden amber,
Shadow, eclipse, lips and limbs,
Echoing across the sky

Songs of times unwritten, songs of times unravelled
What riddle shall we shine for you?
What giggle shall we juice in you?

We are eternal,
So is love.
Love and stars,we are best friends.
We get along splendidly,
Love just came over for tea!
And we like to add cosmic sugar and moon cream.

You wander through us, love wanders through you,
Aren’t we lucky?

Close your eyes and listen to Lady & Lord Dosis read this poem.


STAR LIFE · by Michael McClure

                       THIS LIFE IS STAR LIFE;

                                                         SISTER DEER AND I

                       SEE STARS WITH STARS.

                                                          Brother puma

                             bites his lovers neck and she sees

                             multidimensioned

                                                          shapes of light.

What is in space for roses and for berries
is the life
that's whirling there
WITHIN
--within the organelles of cells

and the imagined time they took to crumple selves

    into a racing thing that's standing in the rains
and still beyond the reach of brains.

NO ONE EVER

turned

my

HEAD

back

to face away

                     from the world in which I

                                  die and play.

 
Close your eyes and listen to Lord Dosis read this poem.


Sleeping in the Forest · by Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on the riverbed, nothing
between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated
light as moths among the branches
of the perfect trees. All night
I heard the small kingdoms breathing
around me, the insects, and the birds
who do their work in the darkness. All night
I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling
with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

Close your eyes and listen to Lady Dosis read this poem.


Native Moments · by Walt Whitman

NATIVE moments! when you come upon me—Ah you
are here now!
Give me now libidinous joys only!
Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life
coarse and rank!
To-day, I go consort with nature's darlings—to-night too;
I am for those who believe in loose delights—I share
the midnight orgies of young men;
I dance with the dancers, and drink with the drinkers;
The echoes ring with our indecent calls;
I take for my love some prostitute—I pick out some
low person for my dearest friend,
He shall be lawless, rude, illiterate—he shall be one
condemn'd by others for deeds done;
I will play a part no longer—Why should I exile my-
self from my companions?
O you shunn'd persons! I at least do not shun you,
I come forthwith in your midst—I will be your poet,
I will be more to you than to any of the rest.

Close your eyes and listen to Uncle Walt Whitman read his poem.


Sonnet XII · by Pablo Neruda

Full being, flesh apple, hot moon,
thick smell of seaweed, mud and light in masquerade,
what secret clarity opens through your columns?
What ancient night do we touch with senses?

Oh, love is a journey with water and stars,
with drowning air and storms of flour;
love is a clash of lightnings,
two bodies subdued by one honey.

Kiss by kiss I travel your little infinity,
your borders, your rivers, your tiny villages;
and a genital fire—transformed, delicious—

slips through the narrow roadways of the blood
till it pours itself, quick, like a night carnation, till it is:
and is nothing, in shadow, a flimmer of light.

Translated by Stephen Tapscott

Close your eyes and listen to Lord Dosis read this poem.

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Soneto XII en español

Plena mujer, manzana carnal, luna caliente,
espeso aroma de algas, lodo y luz machacados,
que oscura claridad se abre entre tus columnas?
Que antigua noche el hombre toca con sus sentidos?

Ay, amar es un viaje con agua y con estrellas,
con aire ahogado y bruscas tempestades de harina:
amar es un combate de relampagos
y dos cuerpos por una sola miel derrotados.

Beso a beso recorro tu pequeno infinito,
tus margenes, tus rios, tus pueblos diminutos,
y el fuego genital transformado en delicia

corre por los delgados caminos de la sangre
hasta precipitarse como un clavel nocturne
hasta ser y no ser sino un rayo en la sombra.


i like my body when it is with your body · by e.e. cummings

i like my body when it is with your
body.  It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which I will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh  . . . .  And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new.

Close your eyes and listen to Lord Dosis read this poem.


Ode to Wine · by Pablo Neruda

Day-colored wine,
night-colored wine,
wine with purple feet
or wine with topaz blood,
wine,
starry child
of earth,
wine, smooth
as a golden sword,
soft
as lascivious velvet,

wine, spiral-seashelled
and full of wonder,
amorous,
marine;
never has one goblet contained you,
one song, one man,
you are choral, gregarious,
at the least, you must be shared.
At times
you feed on mortal
memories;
your wave carries us
from tomb to tomb,
stonecutter of icy sepulchers,
and we weep
transitory tears;
your
glorious
spring dress
is different,
blood rises through the shoots,
wind incites the day,
nothing is left
of your immutable soul.
Wine
stirs the spring, happiness
bursts through the earth like a plant,
walls crumble,
and rocky cliffs,
chasms close,
as a song is born.
A jug of wine, and thou beside me
in the wilderness,
sang the ancient poet.
Let the wine pitcher
add to the kiss of love its own.

My darling, suddenly
the line of your hip
becomes the brimming curve
of the wine goblet,
your breast is the grape cluster,
your nipples are the grapes,
the gleam of spirits lights your hair,
and your navel is a chaste seal
stamped on the vessel of your belly,
your love, an inexhaustible
cascade of wine,
light that illuminates my senses,
the earthly splendor of life.

But you are more than love,
the fiery kiss,
the heart of fire,
more than the wine of life;
you are
the community of man,
translucency,
chorus of discipline,
abundance of flowers.
I like on the table,
when we're speaking,
the light of a bottle
of intelligent wine.
Drink it,
and remember in every
drop of gold,
in every topaz glass,
in every purple ladle,
that autumn labored
to fill the vessel with wine;
and in the ritual of his office,
let the simple man remember
to think of the soil and of his duty,
to propagate the canticle of the wine.

Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden

Close your eyes and listen to Lord Dosis read this poem.

y el original en español...

Oda al Vino

Vino color de día,
vino color de noche,
vino con pies de púrpura
o sangre de topacio,
vino,
estrellado hijo
de la tierra,
vino, liso
como una espada de oro,
suave
como un desordenado terciopelo,
vino encaracolado
y suspendido,
amoroso,
marino,
nunca has cabido en una copa,
en un canto, en un hombre,
coral, gregario eres,
y cuando menos, mutuo.
A veces
te nutres de recuerdos
mortales,
en tu ola
vamos de tumba en tumba,
picapedrero de sepulcro helado,
ylloramos
lágrimas transitorias,
pero
tu hermoso
traje de primavera
es diferente,
el corazón sube a las ramas,
el viento mueve al día,
nada queda
dentro de tu alma inmóvil.
El vino
mueve la primavera,
crece como una planta la alegría,
caen muros,
peñascos,
se cierran los abismos,
nace el canto.
Oh tú, jarra de vino, en el desierto
con la sabrosa que amo,
dijo el viejo poeta.
Que el cántaro de vino
el beso del amor sume su beso.

Amor mío, de pronto
tu cadera
es la curva colmada
de la copa.
o corazón quemado
eres, vino de vida,
sino
amistad de los seres, transparencia,
coro de disciplina,
abundancia de flores.
Amo sobre una mesa,
cuando se hablo,
la luz de una botella
de inteligente vino,
que lo beban,
que recuerden en cada
gota de oro
o copa de topacio
o cuchara de púrpura
que trabajó el otoño
hasta llenar de vio las vasijas
y aprenda el hombre oscuro,
en el ceremonial de su negocio,
a recordar la tierra y sus deberes,
a propagar el cántico de fruto.


How Badly We Need Love · by Michael McClure

HOW BADLY
we need love
to
invent
it.
WE
pretend to
be
billowing clouds
of flesh
giving morning
kisses
on the backs
of our necks.
WE
ARE
(floating)
SUSPENDED
I
N
honey
like
cupids
in
amber.
Listen,
the whales
are singing
very clearly
in our hearts
and there's a blade
of violet light
on the window
ledge.

Listen to Lady Dosis read this poem.