‘I want a life of a million lovers’

'I want a life of a million lovers'

Here’s a lovely poetic plea to human connections, to love in all its forms, to being close without any demands, to polyamory in its widest sense of being able to love many. As I see it this is writing as an ode to the wondrous manifold manifestations of the human yearning to connect, to passionately discover each other beyond categories, to behold the other with tenderness and love. Thought it was wonderful, full of zest and levity.

Just a short quote, please go to the original for its full length version.

“I want a life of a million lovers.

I want to love you.

I want to love you if you are male or female, young or old, single or married…

When I see you we will embrace and hold a hug long enough to glimpse some insight from each other’s heartbeat.

When we walk down the street we shall link arms, pause frequently, and turn our toes and noses towards the other to speak directly without modesty.

I would like us to share the couch together, rather than creating a “do not cross” line where we may as well be sitting on brick blocks seated four feet away. Give me your knee, your foot, your thigh—let your body dangle on top of my body so I can know you the way litters of kittens know each other.

I want to show up to you and look into your eyes instead at your eyes. I want to feel your hand and be consumed by it until the rest of the world ceases to exist. I want to be in your presence and be in want of nothing.

I would like you to leave our time together feeling loved and free and full of your most vibrant and luscious hue of you-ness.

Please do not get confused: I do not want to have sex with you—whether you are male or female.

I have no sexual agenda, as you know, because we laugh at the freedom we feel to speak to strangers for reasons other than because we have to or because we’re hitting on them.

For me, sharing sex with someone requires a certain alignment, and I do not take that lightly. My sex requires that I can possibly foresee living with a person and combining all my stuff with all of their stuff (and I mean physical, emotional, cognitive and spiritual stuff—the stuff that just feels heavy if it’s not the right fit, but feels buoyant beyond imagination when it is). It is delicate, it is careful, it is not presumptuous or impulsive.

And I do not think that our connection is somehow weakened because we do not share our bodies with each other….

Day of Poetry

21st March is Intarnational Day of Poetry. Hungarians take this seriously and here’s a wonderful offering of Horace’s Ode (Book 3, Poem 9) to/with Lydia. Yes, they sing in Hungarian. The gorgeous voice of Bea Palya resonates so beautifully while on guitar you can see/hear Janos Sebõ. The band is the Sebõ Band. Original Hungarian translation by the (there famous) Sándor Radnóti. I find the Hungarian version sweetly erotic and beautifully deep (with far fewer Roman names and formalities :P).

I grew up with the Sebõ Band and many other folk bands in Hungary. Lovely to see them still around (this was a concert on Sebõ ‘s birthday) and to know they uphold some lovely poetic traditions…

Quintus Horatius Flaccus (8 December 65 BC – 27 November 8 BC)

Odes 3.9

While I had power to bless you,
Nor any round that neck his arms did fling
More privileged to caress you,
Happier was Horace than the Persian king.

While you for none were pining
Sorer, nor Lydia after Chloe came,
Lydia, her peers outshining,
Might match her own with Ilia’s Roman fame.

Now Chloe is my treasure,
Whose voice, whose touch, can make sweet music flow:
For her I’d die with pleasure,
Would Fate but spare the dear survivor so.

I love my own fond lover,
Young Calais, son of Thurian Ornytus:
For him I’d die twice over,
Would Fate but spare the sweet survivor thus.

What now, if Love returning
Should pair us ‘neath his brazen yoke once more,
And, bright-hair’d Chloe spurning,
Horace to off-cast Lydia open his door?

Though he is fairer, milder,
Than starlight, you lighter than bark of tree,
Than stormy Hadria wilder,
With you to live, to die, were bliss for me.

Horace. The Odes and Carmen Saeculare of Horace. John Conington. trans. London. George Bell and Sons. 1882.

Rumi… Only Breath

Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu
Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion

or cultural system. I am not from the East
or the West, not out of the ocean or up

from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not
composed of elements at all. I do not exist,

am not an entity in this world or the next,
did not descend from Adam or Eve or any

origin story. My place is placeless, a trace
of the traceless. Neither body or soul.

I belong to the beloved, have seen the two
worlds as one and that one call to and know,

first, last, outer, inner, only that
breath breathing human being.



Finally got the chance to see this well crafted, insightful and beautiful film about Allan Ginsberg’s life and his (in)famous poem.

As a Guardian review says the poem was about ‘sex, drugs and race that became a battlecry for the US counterculture’. Mental illness and religion are also strong themes and we get some insights into how all these relate to Ginsberg and the times.

We are in the 1950s and the film paints the scene very well without resorting to too many cliches as historical films often do.

The rhythm of the editing is joyous, shifting between the poem read out aloud, its reception in the audience, the court trial on Howl on the basis of obscenity, developments in Ginsberg’s life and that of his friends, and finally the awesome animation that magnifies and brings to vivid life the poetry.

The sub-themes of gay liberation, cultural liberation and personal liberation are beautiful and poignant too.

What really makes the film tick is bringing the 29 year old Ginsberg to life, played superbly by James Franco, who comes up with an elaborate justification of his poem that is a mixture of defense, explanation, reflection, psychotherapy, memoir and confession. It’s a brilliant device.

It doesn’t matter that the film didn’t make it for the 50th anniversary of Howl 4 years ago, film-makers Rob ­Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman were right to wait and create something truly memorable.

If you haven’t seen this film, now’s your time 🙂

Read the Guardian review here

An NPR radio program on the film, Howl and Ginsberg (about 8 min)



Tantra is connection and touch
Feeling my breath on your face
Feeling your will on my skin
Sensing my essence, your trace

Of a thought as it moves
The way it learns to find its place
Celebrated, caressed, fired up
the vibrating soul in a soft human case

Like mine, learning to be what it is
Juicy, grieving, joyful or terse
connecting with itself and with you
through a magnified conscious universe

(artwork by photoport on DeviantArt)

.. and Lisa Gerrard from Dead Can Dance singing Sanvean… to the most beautiful underwater visuals ever (thanks to Luke for the find)…