My MP3 player’s screen has only enough room to show “Star Wars IV: A New Ho.” That’s a completely new movie. . . and I’d bet Chewabacca would be the star.
On that lovely note, and being so close to Valentine’s, I figured it was time to bring out the big gun of the sensual and semi-romantic crowd, none other than Pablo Neruda. And of all his love poems, there’s one in particular that’s special to me, that helped me win the heart of a beautiful woman. . . well, for one night, anyway, but I’ll bet she still remembers it. . .
Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs,
you look like a world, lying in surrender.
My rough peasant’s body digs in you
and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth.
I was lone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me,
and nigh swamped me with its crushing invasion.
To survive myself I forged you like a weapon,
like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling.
But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you.
Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk.
Oh the goblets of the breast! Oh the eyes of absence!
Oh the roses of the pubis! Oh your voice, slow and sad!
Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace.
My thirst, my boundless desire, my shifting road!
Dark river-beds where the eternal thirst flows
and weariness follows, and the infinite ache.