1 | Friday is for Poetry | Venerdi Poesia | “A Lake for the Heart | Il lago del cuore” | Luigi Anderlini

 Hi lovely Eathlings!
Luigi Anderlini
for the summer yours truly has decided to share something really beautiful and personal.  Her dad, Luigi Anderlini, was a really extraordinary person.  A poet, memoirist, and intellectual who came from teaching and dedicated himself to politics, he was such a model of honesty that when the entire political class of his generation came under attack for corruption by the judicial system–in the early 1990s–yours truly never even doubted for a moment that he was at any risk of being found wrong.  And he wasn’t!  
Today, with rampant greed pervading civil life, mainstream media, and politics, with a whole new class of nouveaux riches–the new rich whose money was made in the digital revolution and is now embezzled out of the economy and into some tax havens, or paradisi fiscali as they say in Italian–this is so rare as to demand celebration!
Because her dad was a poet, and because he so loved nature that one might say he almost feel in love with it like an ecosexual would do, yours truly happily celebrates this occasion with the forthcoming series Friday is for Poetry, or Venerdi poesia, as Italians would say.  The poems in this series are part of the collection her dad left for publication after his death, A Lake for the Heart, or Il lago del cuore.  Yours truly had the privilege of doing the translation and introduction to the bilingual edition for Gradiva Press in 2005.  This really helped her grieve the loss.  The death of Luigi Anderlini was a bit like the death of an age in the world where he emerged as a public figure, Italy, and later Europe and the world.  Her relatives kept asking, “aren’t you missing your dad?”  She replied, “no, because I’m with him every day when I translate one of his poems.”  Translators, especially good translators, really crawl under one’s skin.  They penetrate our body and soul.  Yours truly never felt as close to her dad as when she translated his poems.  Many of them made her cry over and over.  And revealed to her aspects of life beyond death.  It was an intimacy forbidden in the secular world.  And so she kept telling herself that this translation process felt a bit like post-mortem incest. Oh well . . .
Here she will reproduce the poems that stirred her emotions most, “The Lake,” “Women,” and “Lydia.”  You lovely earthlings who will read the series will become familiar with the poet, the fine, sensitive person whose emotions became chiseled in words.  The plan is to follow this with a short biography–the introduction to the collection–that will reveal more of the public figure and political person–the agent of change that Luigi Anderlini was in his era.  
Barak Obama and Hillary Clinton
Oh, if more poets came onto the scene of politics!  Obama, for one, is a good rhetorician, and–unlike his predecessor–he can spell.  He is literate, a cultured person.  And he can choose words.  Words, in politics and everything else, are not “just words.”  They are what stirs the imagination to make a transformed reality possible.  Politics is a chiseling of words.  Or not!  Obama has distinguished himself as a chiseler, and yours truly’s dad, who was known in Italy for crossing the color lines, would have been so happy to know that a man of two races followed the dark years of the shrub era.  When politics is not a chiseling of words, it can be a string of insults, a non-rhetoric of slander and offensiveness that only reflects the ignorance of those deluded enough to think that it it will benefit them, as in, say, the Tea Party Movement and its followers.
Poetry, however, is more than rhetoric, even elegant rhetoric.  Poetry is a search for the soul.  And that’s what the collection yours truly translated was.  A man consciously approaching the last door, with the memory of a life lived in integrity, an authentic life, an imperfect life, a life that made sense.  A man who chooses to dedicate time before death to chiseling the literary legacy of this life.  A legacy where the most personal aspects and the most public ones are integrated, in a somewhat feminist fashion dare one say.
As you stay with the project, dear reader and lovely earthling, you will come across the premonitions of ecosexual love in some of Luigi Anderlini’s poems, and the legacy of questions from her father’s biography that came up for her, as yours truly explored the possibility of finding answers for them in the inclusive practices of love of which she is now aware.
The poems will appear every Friday at 11:00 AM.
Come back! And get your copy of A Lake for the Heart right away!

Yours truly appreciates your attention.  Stay tuned for more wonders.

Namaste,

Serena Anderlini-D’Onofrio, PhD

Gilf Gaia Extraordinaire
Author of Gaia and the New Politics of Love and many other books
Professor of Humanities

University of Puerto Rico, Mayaguez

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A Lake for the Heart

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4 of 4 – Oh the Power of Ecosexual Poetry! – It’s Not Called Labour for Nothing – Yemisi Ilesanmi

It’s not called labour for nothing!
Ouch, what is that kick
That makes me sick
Breaking in sweat
Oh mine, I am wet
Is that mucous
Oh just focus!
It’s coming, go get the doctor
Stop looking at the buttocks
Tis no time for old wives tales
For I am in pains and already pale
I am coming, I am coming, you screamed
Keep pushing, keep pushing now you screeched
Oh nurse, this hurts, please do something
It’s not yet time, she keeps snorting
Tis was sweet but now it’s a dilemma
Oh no try a push and a dilation
Those sweet contractions
Are now a contradiction
That leaves me frustrated
No longer besotted
Push, Push, you are all preaching
I am the one that is screeching
The baby must not come breeching
Oh what, I am bleeding!
Maybe I need an epidural
Or is this just procedural
Heavily I breathe
Now I seethe
Not cumming in ecstatic  orgasms
But pushing a human organism
Oh, I see a head
Quick I need a lead
Oh nurses stop laughing
Maybe try fawning
This isn’t funny
 I don’t feel sunny
This is no botox
Where is the doctor
I might need a suture
To give me succour
Oh dear, here comes my baby
All wet, slippery and bubbly
Beautiful as the morning dew
You have come to pay your due
Ha, tis looking for the boobs
Ready to start the smooch
In my arms tis nestled
All ready to suckle
I am ready to nurture
I guess tis in my nature
Tis suckling, You are rustled
Dad is rippling but bristled
Those boobs are mine alone
On my terms I give and loan
I do all the labour
You get all the flavour
Never again will I be pushed
This was agony I am flushed
I need science of equality to share
Our baby together we should bear
Mommy is that my sibling
Oh no, I must be blinking
Can’t afford to miss my periods
Cos things can get too serious
Little bump and grind and the baby pops
Now all I have is a pushing tot that sobs
But then I should know
One, two, three years now
I can see a rounded tommy
Ready again to be a mommy!
BY YEMISI ILESANMI 22 MARCH, 2011
Biographical Note
Yemisi Ilesanmi

Yemisi Ilesanmi is a trade union/human rights activist. She has a Masters of Law (LLM) on Gender, Sexuality and Human Rights from Keele University, Stadffordshire, UK and a Law degree(LLB) from Obafemi Awolowo University ile -Ife, Nigeria. She works with the Nigeria Labour Congress . She has served on many national and International labour/ human rights committees including as Vice president of the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) 2006-2009 and President of the ITUC Youth committee (2004-2009) 

Yemisi Ilesanmi is a passionate human rights activist, bisexual, atheist and an unpublished poet and budding writer. She is interested in and often make public presentations on gender issues, sexuality rights, workers rights, youth representation and environmental protection. She is commited to a world of peace where justice reigns supreme.
Text originally published as a Note on Facebook, republished here with permission.
http://polyplanet.blogspot.com

3 of 4 – Oh the Power of Ecosexual Poetry! – I Am a Single Mother – Yemisi Ilesanmi

I am a Single Mother
I am a single mother
Proud like the other
I was a young mummy
Now wise and yummy
Yes I have a son
As bright as the sun
You say he needs a daddy
For him to be dandy
But I need no ring
To make me sing
I am a single mother
Sleek as the otter
I need no rows
To take the vows
I work and toil
But I don’t spoil
I spare the rod
But he is not rot
Sometimes I smack
Never leave a mark
I am a single mother
That is not a murder
So stop the blunders
Enough of your slanders
You need a man
Like your Nan
Soon you will sag
Funny how they nag
I really don’t know for what
Certainly not for my want!
I am a single mother
I am proud to utter
He has a father
Who is just farther
You should know
It takes Two
Not just a procreator
To be his creator
A baby a community can scold
It takes love a human to mould
I am a single mother
Stop your muttering
He is not a bastard
Don’t be a retard
He is not a furnace
For your social menace
He is not a barnacle
But a special miracle
Landing on your moon
To make you swoon
 I am a single mummy
Both sexy and yummy
 I can date, I will get a sitter
Don’t be late, I need no cheater
Just be ready  
To go steady
No drinking late
That leaves you stale
Three is a number
That leaves me somber
I am a single mother
That can go yonder
I am proud to mutter
That I am no nutter
My son praises I sing
For he is a gift I bring
I need no wedding ring
Not even a big bling
Get out of your cove
For it is time to love
BY YEMISI ILESANMI 19 March, 2011
Biographical Note
Yemisi Ilesanmi

Yemisi Ilesanmi is a trade union/human rights activist. She has a Masters of Law (LLM) on Gender, Sexuality and Human Rights from Keele University, Stadffordshire, UK and a Law degree(LLB) from Obafemi Awolowo University ile -Ife, Nigeria. She works with the Nigeria Labour Congress . She has served on many national and International labour/ human rights committees including as Vice president of the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) 2006-2009 and President of the ITUC Youth committee (2004-2009) 

Yemisi Ilesanmi is a passionate human rights activist, bisexual, atheist and an unpublished poet and budding writer. She is interested in and often make public presentations on gender issues, sexuality rights, workers rights, youth representation and environmental protection. She is commited to a world of peace where justice reigns supreme.
Text originally published as a Note on Facebook, republished here with permission.
http://polyplanet.blogspot.com

2 of 4 – Oh the Power of Ecosexual Poetry! – My Genderless Love – Yemisi Ilesanmi

MY GENDERLESS LOVE!
I don’t walk straight
Not even for the bait
 I am merry yet not gay
 I am bi and I can bay
 But saying goodbye
Is not my hallmark
Yet you all smack
Like I always play
Our goal is acceptance
Where is the tolerance
I am not gay enough
To be enfolded
Not sufficiently lesbian
To be embraced
Do I even talk Trans
Can’t brace the rants
You preach diversity
As community necessity
Yet you sneer
While I leer
When in the mall
Yes I want it all
With the dick
I play and lick
And the boobs
Makes me smooch
The big breasted
Leaves me besotted
With the hermaphrodite
I am a smitten Aphrodite
With the pussy
I get all fussy
The shaven sight
To suckle all night
The pert bums
Makes me bowl
The bouncy balls
I love to maul
With the Pecs
I need no specs
I am bisexual, not a player
So don’t make me a slayer
Like you I choose my partner
It is a natural attraction
And not just a selection
A sex you choose
My love I embrace
It matters not the gender
All I want is tenderness
For my love is genderless.
By Yemisi Ilesanmi 17 March, 2011
Biographical Note
Yemisi Ilesanmi
Yemisi Ilesanmi is a trade union/human rights activist. She has a Masters of Law (LLM) on Gender, Sexuality and Human Rights from Keele University, Stadffordshire, UK and a Law degree(LLB) from Obafemi Awolowo University ile -Ife, Nigeria. She works with the Nigeria Labour Congress . She has served on many national and International labour/ human rights committees including as Vice president of the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) 2006-2009 and President of the ITUC Youth committee (2004-2009) 

Yemisi Ilesanmi is a passionate human rights activist, bisexual, atheist and an unpublished poet and budding writer. She is interested in and often make public presentations on gender issues, sexuality rights, workers rights, youth representation and environmental protection. She is commited to a world of peace where justice reigns supreme.

Text originally published as a Note on Facebook, republished here with permission.

http://polyplanet.blogspot.com

1 of 4 – Oh the Power of Ecosexual Poetry! – Mother Nature, My Explosive Lover – Yemisi Ilesanmi

Mother Nature, My explosive lover !
Mother Nature
Beautiful you are
You smile and I waver
You kiss and I quiver
Aroused by your touch
Fed by your smooch
Melting my heart
Twisting my feelings
Swinging my being
With your seduction
Warm in the embrace
Of your blazing love
Your magical fingers
The waves conjures
Your tsunamic orgasm
Blows high and mighty
Many cry and scream
As you explode in cum
Your volcanic temper
Leaves me high and dry
In the grip of your love
I gasp for breath
How long shall I drown
In your magical prowess
Making love drenched
Like there is no tomorrow
Oh your anger
I cannot bear
You huff and puff
And the roof goes off
You blow hot and cold
And up it all goes in flames
You bat your seismic eyelashes
And everywhere floods
You shake your bounty
And the earth quakes
With your waves
The wind bows
You move a disc
And everything falls
Licking at your walls
Is it vanity that gives you airs
To sail on howling hairs
Do you seek attention
Or is it my provocation
That gets you in a hoot
For I am guilty too
Bombs I blow
Tear gas I howl
Carbonized air I emit
To get you to submit
Blame it on my human nature
To plough, prod and tear apart
But you my love
I thought are above
My human frailties
In all your subtleties
Lovesick I worship
At your holy shrine
In awe of your majesty
I marvel at your beauty
But now you come wheezing
With many screaming
Sorrows, tears and blood
You leave flowing
In the wake of your howling
Do you in sadistic pleasure gloat
Seeing the disaster you float
Or are these disasters
A harrowing cry for help
Do you cower in the dark
Hoping for a hug
You I cannot but bug
Amidst the floating bodies
Do you hear the screams
Of your helpless victims
Children, old and young
Barely hanging on
Do you flinch?
As they cling?
I preach acceptance
My wish is tolerance
I accept diversity
As life’s necesity
But how long shall I bear
The brunt of your anger
Or is it just who you are
Oh mother nature, my love
With your tears you let me know
You are neither a God nor a Goddess
But like me, just a mere creation
You and I are not perfect
My human caprice we will capture
Your wild nature we will nurture
I tame mine, we tame yours
You and I babe
Can be together
A lifetime longer.
Yemisi Ilesanmi

By Yemisi Ilesanmi 14 March, 2011

Biographical Note
Yemisi Ilesanmi is a trade union/human rights activist. She has a Masters of Law (LLM) on Gender, Sexuality and Human Rights from Keele University, Stadffordshire, UK and a Law degree(LLB) from Obafemi Awolowo University ile -Ife, Nigeria. She works with the Nigeria Labour Congress . She has served on many national and International labour/ human rights committees including as Vice president of the International Trade Union Confederation (ITUC) 2006-2009 and President of the ITUC Youth committee (2004-2009) 
Yemisi Ilesanmi is a passionate human rights activist, bisexual, atheist and an unpublished poet and budding writer. She is interested in and often make public presentations on gender issues, sexuality rights, workers rights, youth representation and environmental protection. She is committed to a world of peace where justice reigns supreme.

Text originally published as a Note on Facebook, republished here with permission.

http://polyplanet.blogspot.com

Postscript, a bi poem by Chrsitine Baynes

Postscript,
To my foster sister. My gemini
Happy parade day
What’s that u write in your letter now…? I mean the four cryptic lines in response to my 500 pages
the topic: our thrilling discussion of sexuality
It’s like communicating with an ancient dragon
If I am completely pure you will not be able to devour me
No idea what you are talking about, though I like the sound of the strange words
Yet I never could possibly accept them, they’re outrageous!
We…them…US? Are you crazy?
(then again when are you ever not crazy)
No idea where you’re going with this

Talk to the hand

            I mouth your words out loud in your voice
            Like a little poltergeist in the pink ribbons my mother has put me in
            Then roll my eyes, smack my lips
            Laugh heartily (but not too loudly) and giggle a little bit and stamp my foot
You (ms bad-mannered low-class bouncer type, sleeps with anything, grungy grungy girl, smells bad too, ew–)
and I–
Principled. Educated. Honest. Okay, a little nerdy, in a space cadet sort of way–
 have Nothing in Common 
(You. the Evil. Brainwasher.). Me the flouncy girly girl with the pageboy hair,
always did have the better neckline,
beautiful like a greek goddess
you were always way too tall your arms strong, wiry 
your coffee eyes how they would probe so deep inside me
hypnotic making me tell all my deepest darkest secrets accidentally
We should look for boys, you said one day all non-chalant, yet excitedly
Pretending to blush but looking right through me
How rather sneaky you are
Flashing eyes like Satan in feline female form
Watching like the Cheshire cat for my response
Like we were about to discover a new country
But why? And, So soon? I replied as if on cue
feeling terribly betrayed looking back at you sadly quizzically suddenly lost
was I too boring
I could read less books!
Try to be more of a n action figure like you for once
And after that I instantly forgot all the magical tomgirl memories
Pushed them down down down
Someplace where no one would ever find them
It was easier somehow just to stuff them, to try to forget
(even if it made me sick)
As one day you just left, taking the better part of me with you
And by the way I’m just FINE, thanks for asking,
 Perfectly normal, right as rain
 It’s still a load of non-sense whatever you were saying
You don’t define me, so there
You’re such a pain, always trying to tell me who I am
It’s just a little postpartum aversion to hetero men
Not that someone as wacko as you would ever understand 
I’m sure it will go away any minute now
(Yet it’s pretty serious this time even I have to admit)
Went to our little local multi-colored parade today
It was nice—considering–
You don’t exactly invite us to Your Shiny translucent Castro Neighborhood
Which you think You Just Own (as usual)…

Hope mom and dad don’t

See me and baby on television in rainbow gear
cuz they are gonna freak, huh?
I wish u were here to take the heat
Not to mention the sunburn                                                           
Standing next to a drunk Native American
In the broad daylight
Who doesn’t know what he is doing there either
Chatting me up
He was kinda cute though
Maybe he was just happy
Maybe he had two spirits
(Like somebody I knew)
           
            …the baby who I refused to gender before birth
(whose shower, yes, you missed)
I just couldn’t
In the ultrasound he looked
So much like you, long ago
anyway never mind about the argument,
what was it about again? can’t quite remember
I do hope it was important though
well, don’t forget how much we miss you
Your little sister & perpetual student

~Lesbian until graduation

 (ps Indian Spirit is still better, any fool like u can ride a Harley)
 Paper. Rock. Scissors.
p.s.p.s. of course I didn’t send it! She’s so damn stoopid (aka that’s how SHE’d spell it) & she never could read fast like I could, she just faked it to impress, the little witch!
Christine Baynes
http://polyplanet.blogspot.com