Making Love with One You Love

by Don Paul and Hamid Drake

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about

Marigny Recording Studio, New Orleans, February 20, 2016

lyrics

Making Love with One You Love

The looks—the smiles—the surge
Rising up from within
In piques and stalks and compelling glimmers
Of tenderness and gratitude—
Rising up from within
Like multiform Vivaldi violins.
You two laugh and lie down. You two kiss long.
Tongue to tongue, tongue to ears,
Tongue to teats, round and round
And going down
Into the whole of you, the whole of me.
Tips of heat! Tips of wet!
To lick and suck!
Funki-yus! Funki-yus!
Oh, sweet sweat! Ah, sweet juice!
Our sheens of skin, our sheens of skin, raised with sweat,
And then the welcoming
Of walls like womb and thrusts to home—
Oh, yes, sweet, salty Molly said,
Of walls like womb and thrusts to home.
We now in union and motion
Making proofs that pass beyond Space and Time,
Proofs at least as vivid and dreams-fed,
As Mercury’s perihelion for Eddington and Einstein.
Oh, sweet fonk! Oh, sweet fonk!
Gifts Gods gave us to give ourselves!
Gifts Gods gave us to give ourselves!
Ah!—Ooh!—Ah!—Ooh! Oh—Eee—Ah—Eee—I—U—
Yes indeed! Ya heard me!
Our proofs of love the colors of vowels
Under pluming rainbows—
Making love with one you love always new
And measureless exploration,
Making love with one love always new
And measureless discovery.
Ah!—Ooh!—Ah!—Ooh! Oh—Eee—Ah—Eee—I—U—
We now so deep into the whole of me, the whole of you,
And tenderness and gratitude,
We roll like thunderclouds
Become oceans.
Not so young anymore—
No, no longer able to be like horses galloping
Along rivers for second and third hours,
Our thrusts to home and rocking strong
No longer becoming
Like jackhammers in an earthquake
Working all of the graveyard-shift.
We’re older now
And there’s the rub and perhaps
We make a deeper flowering
Of sweat and skin and lips and mouths
To home, sweet home—
Gifts Gods gave us to give ourselves—
Gifts Gods gave us to give ourselves!—
Ah—Oh—Ah—Ooh—Eee—Ah—Ooh—Ahh—Eee!—Ahh—U—Ah!
Coming—Coming—Coming!
Burst and bursts cascading
Into our flood of balms—
Shudders beyond both limbs and mind,
Shudders beyond both Space and Time—
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Another gift of Gods for you and me—
Another gift of Gods from you and me again.

Afterward in the continuum—
“It’s all the same day, man,” sweet Janis said—
We may relax apart
And talk of anything,
Of broccoli and kale,
Of avoiding cell-phones and pre-flavored oatmeal.
We may recall Jack Kerouac, the great Bop prosodist
And would-be Bodhisattva Saint,
Writing about the ‘huffing, puffing, sticky rigmarole of sex’
In his The Subterraneans.
“Poor Jack!” my Maryse says.
We may recall Martin Luther
And Katie Bora and their sensible delights
In their late marriage-bed.
We may find that Bob Dylan’s John Cohen
Really was right on the back of Highway 61 Revisited.
‘There is no eye!’ Our mouths are the gate to the eye.
We may agree that Lenny Bruce
Certainly got it right about fonking—
You know, about fonking being much healthier
Than other forms of violent activity.
We may recall Wilhelm Reich,
The only person imprisoned by both 1930s Nazi Germany
And 1950s USA, and the benefits Wilhelm Reich offered
For couples in his Orgone Box.
We may further suppose
That making love—yes, that fonking—
Is so GOOD and tonic
IT should be on Sunday-afternoon TV
Instead of all those supranational
Pharmaceutical Corporations’ ads
That promise improved stamina
With their possible side-effects
Of dizziness, shortness of breath, constipation,
Blindness, heart-attack, and …
“Honey? Honey,
I’m ready. Where are you?
Uhh!—Ohh!—Argh!—Oh, oh, oh!—Oh, God!”
Further, we may imagine ourselves contestants
On a new Sunday-afternoon TV series,
—Old People Fonking—
Yes, —Old People Fonking—
Our rival couples from Florida, Illinois,
And New Jersey,
Other States that have a number
Of former Public Officials in prison
Comparable to Louisiana’s total.
Anyway, we are, we know, at the least
Like friends and lovers before us—
Tristan and Isolde, Solomon and Sheba,
Constance and her gamekeeper,
Porgy and Bess, Durga, Kali, Shiva—
So glad, so glad, so glad
This incarnation has let us
Lay and glow and be together.

credits

released June 15, 2016
Don Paul, lyrics and vocal
Hamid Drake, drums
Rick G. Nelson, engineer
Art-work is detail from a drawing by Maryse Déjean

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