Plethora.

In the post below I tell you I’m reading a weird book by a guy named Ronald Sukenick and how he is good at writing stuff with his words. This is what he says about the strange multiplicity of things that we call ‘love’:

But I couldn’t admit any of this was love, maybe partly because, as I know now, it wasn’t what we call love. The overload we put on that word just indicates the poverty of our vocabulary.

I have always said there needs to be a plethora of words to replace the English word ‘love’. Some of them should be light and silly and taste like white wine on a summer afternoon, and others need to be thick and heavy and dark and peppery like a Tempranillo in the back of a cafe in the evening, and still others need to be so completely dangerous and radioactive that we keep them under safety glass.

This Sukenick dude really gets me, you know?

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Young Lovers on a Hillside.

Young Lovers on a Hillside

by james bezerra

Young lovers on a hillside

watch the world walk by

but don’t care about it at all.

How nice it must be

to be so young,

not to know that

one day their young

love will go and

eventually they too will

be just part of the

world walking by.

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Love Numbers.

Sadly I have no one to send this to, so I am just posting it here and maybe you can send it to someone!

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I will Love You Forever-ish.

I will Love You Forever-ish

by james bezerra

You were lovely

when I first met you.

You were lovelier still

when I first kissed you.

So can you blame my lack of will

to simply love you still

when you stopped being quite so lovely?

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Blowtorch.

Blowtorch


by james bezerra



If, around your heart, you dug a moat

I would build a simple boat

and float to you.



If you put your heart in the bank

under lock and key

I would stage a daring daylight robbery.



If you scuttled your heart to the bottom of the sea

you should not think that would stop me

from mounting a deep sea recovery.



If you sealed your heart in a block of ice

I wouldn’t even think twice

about melting it free.

With a blow torch, if need be.



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Sailboat.

Sailboat
by james bezerra

Let’s sail our dreams
like a long sailboat
around this giant fishbowl
and then we’ll know
if our love will float

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Re-In Love with Life.

From time to time I re-fall in love with life. I just had one of those profound moments of reflection.

Alfred Hitchcock said, “Drama is life with the dull parts taken out.”

Well I agree that 70 – 80% of life is tedium and monotony, but that other 30 – 20% is pure wonderfulness.

I realized that I have been to New York and Boston. I have been to London and St. Louis, Paris, Orlando, and I have eaten fried chicken in Philadelphia with my grandmother (whom I miss dearly). I have had sangria on the roof of the Met (one of my favorite places in the world) and I have watched the sky turn green in Ozark Missouri before a thunder storm. I’ve been to Branson and Las Vegas. I have stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower and at the top of the fake one at the Paris Casino. I have been thrown out of bars in San Francisco and loaned my jacket to a naked stripper in Fresno, who was trying to catch some ZZZs on the couch. I have been lucky enough to fall in love and unlucky enough to get stranded at Heathrow for two days. I’ve had fish thrown over my head at Pike’s Place Market in Seattle and I have stumbled ass backward into fist fights in Sun Valley. I personally discovered that the snow in Park City Utah is nature’s best beer cozy and also have experienced a couple of sublimely perfect days in Salt Lake City; there’s nothing quite as perfect as being in love in the cold. I have smoked cigarettes in San Diego while listening to Nada Surf play live while landing jets passed overhead. I’ve driven a rented Vauxhall (on the wrong side of the road) all the way to Stonehenge and walked the world’s best museum in Shelburne Vermont. I have nearly died on a kayak off the coast of Catalina and I have been deliriously in love on 17-Mile-Drive around Pebble Beach. I have straddled the Prime Meridian and the US-Mexico border; for that matter I have flown a kite under a pier on a Mexican beach and personally haggled over the price of a lobster dinner. I have watched a Minute Man III missile launch from Vanderburgh before the sun had come up and I have stood on the flight deck of an operational aircraft carrier, with Tchaikovsky blaring in my headphones. I have known more amazing women than is fair and I have been lucky enough to love some of them and to be loved in return. I have unhooked corsets in dark rooms and made love on a bare stage (empty audience). I have been found guilty in court of a misdemeanor and I have cried in front of more than one therapist. I have fallen in love with the Brooklyn Bridge and been terrified by the Coronado Bridge. And next week I will go white water rafting on the American River and the week after I will hike into the Grand Canyon and then ride a helicopter out of it. There is no end to the things that I love about life, and while life never seems easy at the time, it is simply and always worth the effort.

From time to time I re-fall in love with life.

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Mending.

Mending
by james bezerra

Here’s how you fix a broken heart:
to get a good start,
go back to the beginning,
back to when it wasn’t hurting.
Learn from what happened between then and now.
Then you should figure out how
to throw all that sour emotion away
and find a brand new way
to make today
a better day than yesterday.

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A Fairly Relevant Misunderstanding.

A Fairly Relevant Misunderstanding
by james bezerra

I thought it was great
when that dating site
found me a mate;
So forgive me for being rude
when it came to light
that my perfect mate was also a dude!

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The Storm Cloud and the Sea.

The Storm Cloud and the Sea
by james bezerra

If I were a storm cloud
and you were the sea,
I would give you all of me
until I ceased to be.
I wonder if you’d notice.

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A Ghost Living in Us.

I am reading a book called Atmospheric Disturbances by a very talented writer named Rivka Galchen. Essentially it is the story of a man who believes that his wife has been replaced by an imposter (for all my fellow word fetishists out there, he calls her “a simulacrum”). On a deeper level, it is a story of how me understand and deal with love in our lives.

I just read this passage and liked it a lot:

It’s like a ghost living in us, our blood, that’s what I think it is like, having something within us – like our blood, like our livers, like our loves – that goes about it’s business without consulting us.

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Those Evil Gays!

PLEASE READ THIS GREAT EDITORIAL by Jose Fidelino for TIME.

Finally! A married gay man takes responsibility for destroying the holy institution of marriage.

Confessions of a Gay Weapon of Marital Destruction.



I love this article and if Mister Fidelino didn't already have a husband, I would so gay-marry that.


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A Good Day for Love, Freedom.

Judge overturns Calif. gay marriage ban.

You have already heard about it, but here is an article just in case.

I'm so happy about this I might just drive up to San Francisco and marry a dude.

I know that there is going to be a big, nasty appeals fight and everything, but at least for TODAY, love and freedom and - you know - legal common sense won the day.

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UPDATE: Fuck, the judge just stayed the ruling, so I can't marry a dude tomorrow, but this is still a good day, theoretically anyway.
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Our Big Cadillac.

Most of the email that I get lately is spam. I think that I ended up on some list that got sold recently.

I have the email alert on my phone set to vibrate, so there’s a little party in my pants pocket every time that I get an email and I get so excited to see what new email treasure I have received from the world. Lately though, it always turns out to be something about how I have won a laptop or how I might have unclaimed government money due to me or how I can make $50k a year working part-time from home.

So when I feel that tickle in my pocket and reach on in there, I am invariably disappointed, because part of my brain always thinks that you have finally decided to write me and tell me that you want to run off together. How we should steal a convertible Cadillac and drive across this big country of ours and fall in love while the sun sets over the great plains. How we should eat at roadside diners and always only order whatever that day’s special is. How we will sleep curled up together in the big leather backseat of our big, stolen American automobile. How you will whisper in my ear that this is your best moment in all of your life.

But sadly, you never send me that email. So I am always disappointed.


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