Category Archives: What is Love

Love Unmasked

Beautiful and insightful.

Advertisements

Love Lies Bleeding

Speak not to me

of love

for it crowds out reason,

madness reigned supreme,

for endless seasons.

 

Speak not to me

of rage,

infamous, second cousin

to love’s name.

By extension,

I’ve savored

her acquaintance.

Speak not to me

of pain,

the legacy of love

gone awry.

Speak not to me

of shame,

which has sullied and blackened,

silken sheets.

Acidity courses,

unbidden,

eating avidly

through streams of my consciousness.

Speak not to me

of patience,

I have none left to give.

Speak to me

of sweet freedom,

of endless flight,

and quenchless hunger.

Speak to me

of fire,

of gilded light,

of virgin doors,

beckoning,

ever beckoning…

Speak to me

of discovery and wonder.

Speak to me

of epiphanies,

symphonies,

whispered whimsies,

for my soul demands it.

Speak to me

of synergy,

unfettered by,

unfettered by,

unfettered by,

my wordless,

drawn out,

guttural cries

of disjointedness, discordance

and disappointment.

Speak to me

of hope and possibility.

Yes, possibility.

Mines to claim

as long as I draw breath.

Assure me

that they wait

– still –

outside my door.

Am I

not yet forsaken?

Branded by missteps,

wrong turns,

tattered, misplaced trust

and forlorn beliefs?

Or may I

start anew again?

Say there are

rainbows left for me.

Hope,

yes hope,

mines to seek,

flawed though I am.

Burgeoning joys,

undiscovered,

awaiting the silkiness

of my questing touch.

That I am,

alas,

understood…

and forgiven.

An unwilling witness

to Love

which

Lies

Bleeding…

Drawn…

Have no time to write today so have dug into my bag of tricks. Here is an oldie but goody…

Drawn

You didn’t believe so you came my way.  Slowly, Inexorably. Inevitably. Through time.  A wearied traveler, drawn from the distance.  Beseeched by my rhythms. In gradations, in stages and glimpses.  Swishing gently like butterfly’s wings. An intimate dance. Vibrato. Two. With the grace, beauty and passion of a sinuous panther.  You. So lyrical, so deep.  Like water flowing through a valley of rippled indentations and…peaks. Not to be believed. Making me fire, I yearned for you in my arms. With the brilliance of silver, you struck my glance and left me  raw with need. It seemed so long…the twining of us, with the pureness of a raging. Charm, wit, humor, warmth. A real yet diaphanous depth. Your sides. Mentally and physically taking me to places beyond. Thought I never would go. Such a Breadth of vision. A zest for life. Plentitudes of love – for me…. Mine….All Mine. Love just to look at you. Compelled by you….Drawn in to you and this delicious wetness. Cities of the Interior.  Your curves…Your hues. Your round, soft roughness. Your fragrant, creamy sweetness.  Ripe, like fruit.  Mute. Bound. Supplicant. Succulent. Lush. Longing. Yielding. Open. Glistening. Attuned. Enraptured. Captured. Pinned and Pining.

Want me? Want you.

Greed, can feel it everywhere, pounding, pulsing, thrumming, through me. Heat.
Brushing and pressing against you. Oceanic maps. The imprint of you forever
impressed upon the memory of my fingertips, the point of my tongue and in my
throat. Now. Encircled. Ensorcelled. True.

© Coco Rivers 2000

Intrepid Sinner

From labyrinths,

light and
bloodless,

I lay my eyes

upon the sky.

I sense a heat,

immense and
glowing,

am pelted by rains of fear,

while radiant rainbows

writhe hypnotically

around my head.

Nameless emotions

turn to icy tears,

plop unheeded,

scoring skin

with an infinitesimal weight

that only souls can feel.

I ruminate and ponder,

afraid of motion,

ignorant of fate.

Bound and helpless,

to await inevitability

with the blind eagerness

of newborn babes.

I lie my lips

upon your heartbeat,

seduced anew

by the beauty of its rhythm.

A willing prisoner

enwreathed in fragments

of broken dreams

which ever beckon.

Here,

unhinged,
unfettered

and
fused to Love,

I come to know

of my demise.

An intrepid sinner

poised to greet

the final surprise.

7.11.11

I yearn…

Time moves on,

an unceasing river

that ignores the weight of my subconscious cares.

My face turns,

inevitably inward

and unfailingly

I find you there.

I have tried

to explain the inexplicable

but my ramblings fall upon deaf ears.

I have tried to erase

what seems inevitable

and failing that to destroy beauty with anger,

to no avail.

Paroxysms of reasoning,

crumble in the wake of unbridled emotions.

I woke one day with a dream of you,

and it has stubbornly dogged my footsteps,

defying sense.

I thought never to see you,

to hold you,

to love you,

to fear you and your unknowing power over me,

and yet all have come to pass.

Not what I would have come to pass.

I rage against fate,

a fool’s errand.

I breathe in

and I yearn,

I breathe out

and I yearn.

Slowly,

it has become a part of me,

against my volition,

sweet, secret and poignant,

like the depth of my eyes,

or the small, black mole that festoons my chin.

I wait for something to change,

not knowing what I would change.

The ache of not having you near?

The desire to know all of you,

not just what you choose to share?

Your cautious nature,

or my tempestuous spirit?

My heart,

I fear,

has never learned the art of erasure

and so I am left to deal with its wrath.

I breathe in

and I yearn…

What is Love? A Musical Tribute Pt. 2

More videos for the Romantics and video lover. 🙂 Happy day before Valentine’s day.



What is Love? A Musical Tribute Pt . 1

To me, the act of creation is the truest reflection of God. Love inspires so many phenomenal works of art and music is, without doubt, one of it’s purest expressions. A good love song is timeless, spanning genres, race, class and generations. Art is a reflection of the times in which we live and it’s influence is so obvious from looking at these selections. Most are love ballads but the selection touches on all kinds of love, from attraction to the joyous, romantic to parental and through heartbreak to the triumphant. No doubt, music has changed and the change is not for the better. Here then, is part I of my favorite love songs.

My thanks to my Mom for exposing me to so many different kinds of music, her taste is truly eclectic and much love to my Sweetie for helping me put this together.

Tides – A poem

TIDES

Tides of emotion,

well and swell

Swallowing my interior,

washing through me

tremor-like,

changing my trajectory

and dulling my vision

to all things exterior.

My Self

sits mother like-she,

arms crossed,

legs poised

for defensive reaction

against anyone who would question

this extra-ordinary rush of love

Which blooms

Like desert flowers

Pure, radiant….coloricious

amidst hot howling wind and arid viciousness.

I will not bend,

I give in

only to the feelings

growing within.

I tune my ear

to the beauty of evolving interior song

which began as an insistent tapping,

beating in my heart,

stealing my thoughts away,

from pursuits that could wait

for another day.

I listened – still,

as the tapping turned into a hum,

reverberating sweetness,

wide and deep as the

Moon’s craters – moving my soul.

My heart changed,

rainbow colors

radiating within the cavern of my chest.

I could feel it flash

from red to pink to lavender and gold

then back again.

It changed the cadence of my steps,

single, double, tripled taps

which graduated to skipping,

keeping time with the cresting wave

of our combined harmony.

Harmonies which sing my soul to sleep.

Sweet, warm and ooooh so deep.

My eyes open on this world

but my focus

with laser beam intensity

is attuned to the feel of honey in the rock,

the haunting smell of cinnamon and molasses,

the seductive mélange of vanilla musk – wafting

And the sight of lush meadows

bejeweled and dazzling after summer rains.

All you,

My harmony,

My melody,

My drumbeat

And personal score,

–        The beauty of every Word that is

Familiar and as yet Unknown.

What is Love? Heartbreak and Loss…

It is impossible to love without experiencing heartbreak. We’ve all felt it and in order to reach happier times, you must weather it. Sometimes, we give our love and end up with ashes. Like many things in life, love is a gamble. There is nothing more profound to say than that. I was inspired to write the piece below by Meshell’s song, Fool of Me which is haunting, oh so true and beautiful….

EVISCERATED DREAMS

Love lie lorn on a floor that was once solid. I felt the warm, impenetrable face of the wood beneath my cheek. I breathed in dust, vapors du wax and the spent dreams of the faceless which lie forgotten around me. I could not move. I could not move. The weight of an unfathomable sadness bore down on my being. My eyes were shut, squinched tight, as if shutting out reality could help me find the truth which evaded me. Truth had departed. Why when we seek happiness do we so often find in its place a collapsing emptiness that folds in on itself? They say to live is to dream, to drink, to eat and partake of our desires and take chances. They said. They never say how it felt when terra firma disappears and dreams are eviscerated by disappointment.

In my dreams, Vivienne was flying northwards, a pinpoint on the horizon that winked like diamonds. The sound of her beating wings were tinkling chimes that beckoned me to follow or be left in their wake. I ran to keep up but was kept from my goal by the weight of my burden.

Memories, ruthless memories, played unceasingly across my inner eye, the one I could not shut. I felt her hand, lovingly graze my cheek on our first date. I smelt the bewitching scent that was her pheromone signature wafting upwards to tease my nose as she leaned in to whisper private things that only we shared. I saw her smile, brilliant with the light of a thousand suns, flash at me as we drove across the stark, arid beauty of the moon drenched Sahara. I heard her deliciously infectious laugh, infused with child like wonder, as we soared on swings or spent a day careening skywards then earthwards, hit repeat, on the many labyrinthine rides at Great Adventure. I saw us, Vivienne and me, drunk on an art filled day at the Metropolitan lying in the sun. We stared up at the great blank windows on the East side of the museum, drinking wine and nibbling at gourmet treats. I remembered the way the grass cradled our forms and how with each turn her cotton dress caressed her thighs and ass then lovingly slid its sweet hand between her thighs until I was jealous and bloated with passion that begged release.  In my mind, we were all skin and teeth, sinew, tongue, bone and liquid fluidity. The consummation of my oral desires reaching a crescendo as she emitted long, slow, piercing, jazzy moans. Then, my mind became quiet and in this memory she was quiet too, her wild spirit tamped down, hair slicked back, in an emerald velvet dress drinking Veuve and making her rounds at my gallery opening. I smiled to see the mask of adultness and not the wandering, bewitching, adventurous girl child whom became my lover, that lived within.

Tears came then, one by one by one, to fill the saucer of my lids begging release. Sweet surcease, as I gave in and opened my eyes to a watery world. A watery world. It was here that she had left me with the memory of her kisses beginning and dying on my lips. I knew her body now as well as I knew my own, the mole behind her ear, the imperfect beauty of a cloud shaped birth mark that adorned her lower back, I knew the honey-tan-chocolate landscape that was her breasts, the valley in between and the whorl of her fingertips that memory had engraved upon the skin of my lips.

The world felt wrong, I was wronged, bereft, lonely and empty like a husk with all the tears that had spewed forth in the 162 hours since she left. She left me for greater things, a better job, a richer lover, another continent and I could not compete. And so I lie upon the floor for untold hours listening to our favorite CD’s on repeat. The phone rang, the neighbors banged till they grew tired, the alarm went off and I registered all this in the most distant parts of mind. Myself shut down until all I became was distilled to a curled up embryo left behind on someone’s floor plagued by memories, tears and loss. Who would save me from me? I was not up to the task of rediscovery as my splintered selves, the one whom had left with her and the wretched soul that she had left behind struggled to merge. A whole day passed before I could move to the sheltering arms of our bed. There I slept and woke consumed by dreams of running on an endless empty beach. No matter where I ran I ended up in the same beautiful pain filled place.

It was Giselle that woke me. Seven days of uncharacteristic silence bought her to my door with flowers, chicken soup and books by Nin, Morrison and Maya in tow. She opened the door with her key and held me in her arms and listened to the disjointed ramblings of how my fairytale ended. There was relief in that to expel the nightmare in my head to another human being. There was relief in finding compassionate solitude in the arms of my friend. She dried my tears, fed me, read me books, washed my hair and held me as I cried myself to sleep. She took off work and stayed with me for four days until I was a former semblance of myself, divided but standing, once again.

Life would not stop. Twelve days later, I emerged changed, missing a piece, haunted, more somber, less trusting, more cynical and I learned to live with the most silent and pervasive of enemies, grief. Ever after my life was divided into before and after Vivienne…

What is Love? The Joy of Friendship…

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

My heart has many rooms and every so often I am amazed by it’s limitless capacity.  The subject on my mind today is friends because my friends are da bomb lol! Seriously, friendship has always played a big role in my life, ever a source of happiness, joy and comfort.  Well, most days anyway 🙂

Consider that the love of your parents is a given.  Supposedly, it is a biological necessity to love and care for one’s young.  When it comes to romantic love, we are programmed from an early age, “_ _ _ _ and _ _ _ _ _ sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage…”  because it is one of life’s most desirable experiences and it is, when we get it right. Don’t forget that we are held captive by our brains and the chemicals which flood it, ensuring our need for intimacy and companionship.

Friends are a completely different matter, not dependent upon biological ties, or required for the succession of our race, or even our need for intimacy and the fulfillment of sexual urges.  Yet, we all need friends.  I feel so bad for people when they tell me they have no friends. I mean, who has their back? Who talks them down from the edge when it is all too much to bear? Who shares in and dries their tears? Who does mad things with them that they can laugh about like idiots, over and over and over again? Who finishes their sentences because they just know what they are going to say? I mean, even House, a professed misanthropist, has one friend. Friendship, with all of life’s capriciousness, is one of the supreme gifts and pleasures that we are guaranteed and all we have to do to cement it is – open our hearts.

I have been blessed with friendships that have run the span of my lifetime and believe that such relationships carry their own specialness because you’ve shared in each other’s history.  This knowledge gives you a deep understanding of a person, regardless of who they become.  People at their core remain pretty much stay the same.  No other type of friendship has the strength, or perspective of the ones formed in childhood.  Childhood is a groovy time because you are untainted, able to be open and trusting, not saddled by fear, disappointments or caution. 

True friendship endures, standing the test of time, regardless of the many changes that life brings and those are the best kinds, don’t you find?  I have had the joy of reconnecting with childhood friends after decades of absence, thanks to Facebook or reunions, and it’s so cool that we mesh seamlessly – still.  We like each other, even all grown up. 

Here is my verbal montage, a tribute to my friends:

Thank you for the many times that you have been my strength when I was ready to give up.  Thank you for being my Brothers and my Sisters, regardless of what race, or class, or sex, you hail from.  Thank you for running away with me when we were kids – I still can’t believe so many of you did that.  Thank you for our forays to the beach and laying in the shore with me as the waves took us over.  Thank you for bearing up under my obsession with lipstick and running around with my lip print on your faces – I dig it it that you never complain.  Thank you for cursing me out and snapping me back to reality when I needed it.  Thank you for pointing out the silver lining in the clouds and waiting for rainbows to come because they always do.  Thank you so much for being – You.  Thank you for getting shit faced with me and running through the streets yelling and not caring that people were staring.  Thank you for defending me against all enemies – foreign, domestic and interior.  Thank you for laughing at my crazy jokes, putting up with my occasional withdrawals and ongoing fight against technological seduction.  Thank you for listening to me bitch and moan about everyday PITA’s like my boss, men, women, my height, my cats, my hair and the dysfunctional clan that is my blood family.  Thank you, thank you, thank you for the many times that you held me, literally or figuratively, when it was all too much and I finally broke down and cried.  Thank you for the trips to Vegas, St. Louis, almost Paris, Strip clubs, Dance clubs, Bars, Diners, Pizza Parlors and Off-broadway plays.  Thank you for seeing me, no matter what mask I wear.  Thank you for the Lobster dinners, Oodles of Noodles, vats of wine, girl’s nights out, exposure to other cultures, Absinthe, when it was still illegal, and for giving me empathy and compassion, it has carried me a long, long way.  Most of all, thank you for your love, willingness to dive alongside me into the thoughts that swirl in my cranium and supporting me on my search for the marvelous, on any given day. 

I will love you – always…

What is Self-Love? A Celebration in Words…

All too often when people talk about love, they focus on romantic love. That’s kind of backwards though because self-love is the most important thing in my book. If you are lucky, your parents teach you how to love yourself, leading by example. Since many of us come from dysfunctional families and because societal expectations are often so shallow we are often left to find this out for ourselves. 

It takes a lifetime to learn to love and accept yourself. Yet, it is the foundation upon which all others are built. If you fail to take the time to love yourself then you will never truly be able to love another. Why? Because people can compliment you but only you can fill you. This is why so many people search desperately for relationships to make them happy and yet when they arrive they are still empty and confused. They made the classic mistake – they looked outside.

Self-love brings with it the benefit of self-acceptance, balance and inner peace. Mastering self-acceptance allows you to extend the gift to others. Your expectations become more realistic and by extension you learn the art of forgiveness. It also lets kindness in which we need in a world that all too often seems quite mad and indifferent. When we love ourselves, we understand the dividing line that exists between us and others, so we are not quite so needy, or dependent and demanding, because our happiness resides within and everything else is just gravy. Personally, I am a big fan of gravy lol. So why do we expect some magic person to come along and make us happy? Haven’t you found quite often that they do not? They might want to but guess what we all come with baggage and scars. When they want the same thing from you, it becomes a perpetuating cycle of dysfunction. I suppose this is why I hate the phrase, “You complete me.”  I want to be complete in myself, thank you very much. 

It took me many heart breaks before I learned this lesson and I am still learning it, still practicing it. It is all too easy to turn your focus outward when all you can ever truly be sure of in life is your self. So you better be sure that you’ve got yourself on lock. And guess what? Self-love can never be taken from you under any circumstance. How many things can you say that about?

The following poem is my ode to Me 🙂

Beautiful But Not Perfect

I look at myself

and I know

I am beautiful.

All chocolot brown

and gorgeous hues.

I look at the slope of my collar bones.

See the richness of my lips.

Hear the articulate smoky sound

that is my Voice.

I touch the softness of my skin

and run my hands

along the curves of my too full thighs.

I see all things below me

and know more truly

the majesty of my height.

This is the Me that everyone sees.

I know my spiritual imperfections,

invisible to the naked eye.

A long litany of complaints,

that make me sigh.

I wear them on my sleeve,

Yet manage to hold my head high.

I look at myself

and know that I am

Beautiful but not perfect.

I know my soul quivers

at fear of the unknown,

But I know too

that my heart has withstood

many a tumultuous storm.

I see my tears falling

and only I understand

the complex web of emotions

which spurn their creation.

An external embodiment of pain

which despite my best efforts

I cannot contain.

I look at my life

and littering the landscape

are all the dragons I have slain.

My past looms behind me

and with its greedy grasp

it tries all too often

to drag me… back.

The lessons I have learned

and selves I have shed

in a seeming eternity of seconds

which have elapsed

as I pressed on….Unaware,

are friends, yet enemies

of my future selves –

Seeking to unfurl.

I look at myself

and know that I am

beautiful but not perfect.

I carry my spiritual badges of honor

where ever I go

and in my imperfections

always know that I am Here for Me

which is more

than I could ever ask for.

I struggle on this journey,

hoping that the incandescent light

of my imperfect spirit

will grow and swell

with all the beauty

that Life contains

and one day it will not matter

that I am

Beautiful….but not perfect.

What is Love: A Celebration in Words

It is officially one week to Valentine’s day. Ssssh, I am a die hard romantic and no matter what they say about the commercialism of the V-day, the emotion and joy it brings us is a cause for celebration. In honor of V-day, all this week’s posts will be about love. Ummm no, not just the romantic kind but love in all it’s myriad forms, romantic, spiritual, sexual etc. Kicking it off with my favorite biblical verse…

1 Corinthians 13:4–8a
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails …