Thursday, December 20, 2007

Kissing by Valentino


Last week I posted a video of the Latin Lover and silent screen superstar Rudolph Valentino in action. Valentino was a true artist, not like many in Hollywood today who have devalued the term art by calling themselves artists. Being in the era before sound, Valentino was adept at expressing emotions through his facial expressions. He was also the master when it came to kissing. In this video clip (the link is below) Rudy does the hand kiss which is almost a lost art.

In the country of Turkey, hand kissing is still done sometimes as a gesture of respect. A young person may go up to an older person, take their hand, kiss it, and then after kissing the hand of the older person, the younger person will take the older person's hand and touch their forehead with it. Before I got worn out with trying to exist in Turkey after living there twice briefly, I had become slightly acculturated. Several times I have done this gesture to older people I met there. Most accepted the gesture reluctantly out of humbleness, I believe. One of my friend's mischievous nephews who was about 8 even kissed my hand this way one time.

Like the previous Valentino clip that I posted last week, the producer of it has disabled embedding, so you can see the Master by clicking here.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

A Poem By An Iraqi

I live in Georgia, and our state "Georgia On My Mind" was made famous by Ray Charles. For me, however, I could re-word the lyrics and make it "Iraq On My Mind" since that country has continuously been in my thoughts almost every day since the war started. Please bear with me if I tend to post here regularly something pertaining to Iraq, but this is my blog and like the old song said, "It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to." It's my blog... :)

Back in the spring while looking for a magazine on freelance writing at Borders Bookstore, I ran across the spring and summer edition of Atlanta Review magazine which is a periodical featuring contemporary poetry not only by Americans, but my poets in other countries. The edition I found was labeled in red "Iraq" and contained poems by Iraqis translated from the original Arabic. I am going to post here a poem by an Iraqi which is in the magazine.

The Heart of a Woman

The heart of a woman is the only country
That I can enter without a passport.
Where no policeman
Asks me for my card
Or searches my suitcase
Full of contraband joys
Forbidden poems
And delicious sorrows.
The heart of a woman is the only country
That does not heap up heavy weapons
Nor force its citizens to fight its wars.

By Lateef Helmet
translated by Soheil Najm
Sincerae Bonita Smith's Facebook profile