the gypsies' journey...

we all are gypsies of a sort wandering traveling through this life other lives space and time here there and yon on roads less traveled - following the path of the sun and the trail of the stars to worlds known and unknown from yesterday and today into tomorrow -

this is a written and visual journal of my own travels - imagined and/or real -
imagined and/or real - a STREAMOFCONSCIOUSNESS telling of my own personal thoughts feelings experiences - interspersed with words and images of others - with things defined by most as PARAnormal which - for me - all my life - have been PERFECTLYnormal -

SO come along with me and we'll dance among the stars under the sun and over the moon - we'll share our stories around the campfire - together -

THE GYPSYWOMANWORLD

My photo
A...WOMAN IN MOTION WITH HAIR AS DARK AS NIGHT HER EYES WERE LIKE THAT OF A CAT IN THE DARK... SHE WAS A GYPSYWOMAN... she danced round and round... from the fire her face was all aglow... she was dancing... dancing... waiting for the RISING SUN... loving caring relationships are like THE RISING SUN...we are nourished by their warmth...we are energized by their strength...we grow in their light...we find shelter and solace there...they are our sanctuary... born in the sign of the sun, i am a true LEO-love the sun and its hot orange red fire-passionate in and about everything i do-i believe in instant chemistry charisma love/lust at first sight-in the magic of the eyes and the beauty of the soul-in the instant recognition familiarity in meeting someone from a past life and in the knowledge that we might meet in a future life-i believe that we are each ageless and flawless-i believe in the beauty of the moment-the whisper of yesterday-the hope of tomorrow-the power of forgiveness for even ourselves-the absolute and total beauty of love---[credit to brian hyland and curtis mayfield]

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

CANTO XII from The Heights of Macchu Picchu


Arise to birth with me, my brother.
Give me your hand out of the depths
sown by your sorrows.
You will not return from these stone fastnesses.
You will not emerge from subterranean time.
Your rasping voice will not come back,
nor your pierced eyes rise from their sockets.

Look at me from the depths of the earth,
tiller of fields, weaver, reticent shepherd,
groom of totemic guanacos,
mason high on your treacherous scaffolding,
iceman of Andean tears,
jeweler with crushed fingers,
farmer anxious among his seedlings,
potter wasted among his clays--
bring to the cup of this new life
your ancient buried sorrows.
Show me your blood and your furrow;
say to me: here I was scourged
because a gem was dull or because the earth
failed to give up in time its tithe of corn or stone.
Point out to me the rock on which you stumbled,
the wood they used to crucify your body.
Strike the old flints
to kindle ancient lamps, light up the whips
glued to your wounds throughout the centuries
and light the axes gleaming with your blood.

I come to speak for your dead mouths.

Throughout the earth
let dead lips congregate,
out of the depths spin this long night to me
as if I rode at anchor here with you.

And tell me everything, tell chain by chain,
and link by link, and step by step;
sharpen the knives you kept hidden away,
thrust them into my breast, into my hands,
like a torrent of sunbursts,
an Amazon of buried jaguars,
and leave me cry: hours, days and years,
blind ages, stellar centuries.

And give me silence, give me water, hope.

Give me the struggle, the iron, the volcanoes.

Let bodies cling like magnets to my body.

Come quickly to my veins and to my mouth.

Speak through my speech, and through my blood.


[trish, you know, i could not help but think of you when i posted this - the words and the image - perhaps we met there once, in another time] 

6 comments:

Cole said...

Well.... you know I like this! Such words. I might have to read that over a few hundred more times. Very passionate. But the image! Now you are just making this place that much more alluring for me. I had to quickly look it up and check out other pictures to see the profile? Not quite the same in real life, but very close and still magical. Great post.

GYPSYWOMAN said...

yes, came across this image while i was doing the post actually - fabulous, isn't it? and you see the face so clearly! and neruda's work is just sublime! his love poems are beyond words - well, i love all his writings - come back soon, cole!!! see you over at your place!

Nancy said...

Wow. Now I need to go back and re-read it...

GYPSYWOMAN said...

hey nancy! yes, i think it takes a couple of readings, which i did, too! but i love love his work - and of course, then, there's this magical place! thanks for coming over - see you over at your place -

Trish and Rob MacGregor said...

Gypsy - it wouldn't surprise me at all. We were the Incans!

GYPSYWOMAN said...

i know, trish! a culture intriguing beyond words - and familiar!