Thursday, December 20, 2012

not enough time...

Not enough time to learn all your dances
Not enough time to sing all your songs
Not enough time to chase all those romances
just not enough time to find where I belong

Not enough time to let go of the sorrow
Not enough time to forget your name
Not enough time to chase after tomorrow
Just not enough time to heal all the pain

Not enough time to tell you I’m sorry
Not enough time to find the right words
Not enough time to tell you my story
Just not enough time to undo all the hurt

Not enough time to find out what love is
Not enough time to show you my heart
Not enough time for another good-night kiss
Just not enough time to make a fresh start

IF...

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling 

Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840) 
"Wanderer above the Sea of Fog"

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

just come back...

Cold December moon climbing over the mountains of Northern Mexico
The dessert wind howls through the night... the smell of mesquit
burns in the valley... you roll over in bed... and mumble words
I did not understand...

Before I crawl back into bed I light a candle at my alter...
At the end of the hall... my little alter... candles and flowers
sitting under a black velvet painting of Raquel Welch... that
I found in the old market in Juarez...

I light a candle and burn some incense and a poem on
Japanese paper in a little bowl... I call out her name...
I whisper it low... I say... “forgive me... for whatever
I have done... just come back...”

I listen for footsteps...

I close my eyes and try to sense the presence of an angel...
The devil... her ghost... I can’t find her shadow...
I can’t find her smell... I don’t hear her crying...
In my room... in the hall... in the kitchen... in the den...

In my dreams...

There is a small scar on my wrist... next to my vain...
It does not let me forget... it does not let me go...
It will be there for ever... but she... she always needed
more love than I could ever give her...

I don’t pretend that I ever loved her...
But now... I feel I love her...
There is a woman who’s name is Elena sleeping in my bed.
And I am writing poems in blood on ancient paper...

In hopes of seducing the ghost  I have tried so hard to abandon...

“forgive me... for whatever I have done... just come back...”

Thursday, December 6, 2012

ladies and whores...

She’s in my bed...

She’s wrapped herself up under the covers and made a fortress of the pillows...

She says “papi... regresa a la cama...”  -  “daddy... come back to bed...”

She sighs... a long, spiritual sigh that fills this dark room like the holly mantras that echo down the Himalayas...

She says “Tito... ven, mi amor... no escribas esta noche...”

She moans and makes whimpering sounds...

She says she’s cold and needs me to warm the bed... but it is not that cold... she speaks in her little girl voice... and then she growls in her angry annoyed mistress voice...

I am sitting  at my desk at the foot of the bed.  The light from the bathroom slithers through a half opened door that cast a shadow on her... I tell her I have to check the Asian Markets... She say - “really?”

And I say - “no...”

She lifts herself up on one elbow - “do you know what you look like in that light... the glow of the computer shining up at you?”

I ignore her and type these words...

I don’t finish the word on the last line when she say - “are you the devil...”

She is not the first woman to say that... but the last one that did say it... came pretty damn close to stealing what’s left of my heart...

I look at her - “where you hoping for an angel?”

“Something close to it...”

“And yet...”

“And yet... here I am... in your bed...”

She’s in my bed...

She just looks at me... she wants to say something... but I don’t think she really knows what those words are that will tell me what it is she is feeling right now... I think she feels a little scared... and a little bit confused... but I know that she wants to be here...
Elena and I have been together every night since the first day.  Not a single night has passed that she has not come over.  She shows up after work before she goes anywhere else... and after she has done what she needs  to  she comes back...she spends the night some times and leaves early for work... we’ll spend the weekends in bed or on the sofa... she says the world outside my door does not exist and that we are drifting in a lonely rocket out in space looking for a safe place to land... she tells me that she wants to know the secrets of my world... my reality... tonight she learned a very important part of that reality... and I think it shook hers out of its axis...

Elena always wants to know the “why’s” and the “how’s”... the reasons and the motivations of my life... I really don’t let the women that come and go in on those secrets and many have learned the hard way the “why’s” and the “how’s”.  She does not understand why I do not have friends and why I prefer to be alone...

I have three friends in this world - and two of then I have not spoken to in years - but they were loyal and I trust them and I give them my loyalty  in return... but I have not spoken to them in years... the third... well... he is just too much like me to contemplate giving my trust to... but he says I am the only man he trusts... and has offered me his friendship and loyalty... though he has led me into adventures that we narrowly escaped with our lives with  and continuously talks me into risky business deals and simply laughs off our misfortunes like the devil at a poker table... always with a shocked and surprised laugh at the irony of his well thought out plans not turning out so well... he just looks at me in disbelief... “Dash... I didn’t see that coming! Can you believe that! Ain’t that something... well... let’s go get a drink and some girls... “ He makes me laugh... but he may get me killed one day... and as for all the others whom I once called my friends... well... I can honestly say today that I am better off without them... for all those old friends at one time turned on me... blamed me for their mistakes and their bad luck... their shitty lives and they stabbed me in the back and betrayed my trust... they turned on me... abandoned me... I could not keep these people and reach the life I wanted... and I am getting there - I am getting closer and closer to it - with out a single one of them...

Tonight (earlier) Elena and I went out to join some of her friends at some bar, it is not the first time we have gone out with her friends but tonight was the most interesting night out we have had... I had met a few of them before and some of these people were co-workers and some were her girlfriends and a few other guys... and among them a couple of ex-boyfriends...  Yup... ex-boyfriends...

When you are the new boyfriend... you have to go through all the bullshit from her friends...  I am the one keeping her from spending time with her girlfriends and family... and the ex boyfriends need to prove... not sure what they need to prove... but they need to be ass-holes...  Now... I am the oldest person in this crowd by almost ten years - nine to be exact - and despite the poetry you may read here - I am a heartless bastard unimpressed with the world and uninterested in the opinions of what others think of me...

Elena was looking very fine this evening... she made a smooth transition from work to the bar somewhere along the way in the car... her hair was tied back and her blouse buttoned all the way to the top when she picked me up... but when we stepped out of the car her hair was loose and full and her blouse opened and quite inviting... even her face had a different glow to it... it’s at this point when I should have tuned into the vibrations of the night... but there were none to listen to...

The smoke and the smell of watered down drinks is the first thing that hits you as you walk in the door... and the music... crap... music today is mostly crap... her girl friends are at the bar... so we make our way there... she introduces me to the ones I haven’t met yet and I great the ones I already know... there is an empty stool so I take it... the bartender shows up with a big happy friendly smile... he’s feeling lucky tonight and hopes the crowd gets bigger... Elena asks for a daiquiri, I a scotch... the bartender - who’s name is Mickey - pours my drink in front of me... I motion with my thumb and fore finger to pour a little more and he smiles big... as he slides me my drink I slip him an American twenty and lean forward for only him to hear - start me a tab... he asks for my name and goes off to ring up our drinks... he leaves my change on the counter in front of me and I let it sit there... the girls are talking with each other and ignore me... I have my scotch... I don’t care...

I find myself making conversation with Mickey... and we start drinking shots of tequila... Elena’s co-workers begin to arrive and Mickey knows he will be making good money tonight as more men in suits arrive... introductions are made and I have to go through the same boring routine of explaining what I do and how I do it... but I go through the routine quite naturally and return my focus on my scotch... I am not here to impress any one tonight nor am I here to make any friends... I am here for Elena... because she wanted me here... so I will be friendly and charming for her sake...

A couple of women showed up and invaded  the space to my left at the bar... and Mickey keeps them entertained... Mickey is in his late twenties... he speaks like a man with schooling... he smiles like Tom Cruise - a bit annoying - and he looks like one of the Iglesias... the women seem to fancy him...  He begins to show up, in between fixing drinks for the crowd and flirting with the girls, with shots for us to try from the wide selection of tequilas that line a shelf behind him... these are on him... the girls to my left look at us waiting for us to offer them some shots... but I don’t buy women drinks and Mickey seems to know that game too well... I ignore them and drink... I’ll stop for a bit to make meaningless conversation with one of Elena’s friends to my right who still linger at the bar with me... the group has put together a few tables in the middle of the room... but many are just walking about and hanging ‘round the bar...

One of Elena’s friends, a loud, snobbish, gossipy woman, whom I do not like one bit comes to the bar next to me with empty glasses and says that Elena needs another drink... so I say to her “Get her one...”

“Do you want me to pay fro it?” she feigns shock...

I hate this bitch...

Mickey arrives... and the woman orders their drinks... I nod at Mickey and he takes my gesture to mean that those drinks are on my tab... I had informed him early on that Elena’s drinks were to by on my account as well... but no-one else... Elena comes and wraps her arms around me from behind... she whispers to me if I am doing well.. I nod my head slowly and she kissed the back of my neck... she picks up her drink and walks away... I watch her in the mirrored wall behind the shelves... her hair bounces... her ass sways... like a slow wave climbing onto the shore... and slipping back into the sea... one of the girls leans in close to me and asks if the woman that just left is my girl friend... I turn my head slow to her... still watching Elena in the mirror... I gaze into the girls eyes... “she thinks she is...” and I bring my glass to my lips and look away...

The little snobby girl is still at my right... I can feel her stare on me... I slowly turn to her... and she opens her stupid mouth...

“Who do you think you are?” and she walks away... thank God...

At that point of the night I am only on my second scotch, I have a beer in front of my as well but that is to chase the tequila... and there is also a glass of water in front of me too...

One of the girls to my right starts talking to me again but she gets closer and closer... she begins to flirt with me... her gestures are getting friendlier and friendlier... I flirt back... but I am a bit more subtle than her...  One of the girls to my left makes a comment about the one to my right throwing herself at me... and she responds by putting her arm around me and leaning in close to my chest... but then she gasps and says... 

“oh... Victor... do you see that man that Elena is with?”

We both are looking into the mirror...

“That is Alejandro Manuel... Elena’s ex...”

I said “so...”

“Two days before you came along ex...” she says in a low voice  - just loud enough for me to hear...

I respond - “no shit...???”
And turn my body to look at them...

But little snobby bitch shows up and shoves Cristina - the girl - away from me so that she can get to the bar... I throw the bitch a disapproving look... she turns her nose up at me and begins calling for Mickey... but it’s the bar manager who arrives to take her order... she orders a beer and turns to me... I ain’t paying for her shit... I ignore her and gaze at Cristina and smile... she smiles back at me... the bitch fumbles with her purse to get her money and pays for her drink... she sees the glances Cristina and I are exchanging as she turns to Cristina...

“What... you can never get your own man that you have to always try to take the ones that belong to your friends...”

Cristina looks down and takes her abuse... but then...
She say...” Elena’s over there with Alejandro... She doesn’t even talk with Victor except to spend his money...” which was true...

The bitch turns to me...

“So Elena is with Alejandro... what, are you jealous... are you trying to get her attention by hanging all over Cristina...”

I say “ I don’t care who Elena talks to...”

The bitch: “You don’t care?”

“I don’t care... it is none of my business who she talks to... what they talk about... what she does...”

“Oh... so you don’t care about your own girlfriend...”

“I don’t care what she does... I don’t own her... I don’t control her...”

“Alejandro is better than you... I don’t know why she left him... for you... he is much better than you are...”

“Many men are... much better than I am...” I drink what is left of my scotch...

“You are an ass-hole...” the bitch walks away but turns around to give Cristina a nasty look... Cristina turns to face the bar but does not look at me... she just looks down... I turn around and lift my empty glass to the bar manager... one of the girls to my left asks

“What’s that bitch’s problem...”

It makes me laugh...
When the manager brings my drink I tell him to get the girls a round...

“Oh, now you are going to buy us drinks...???”

“Just this round” I say - “it’s for making me laugh... you have to earn your gifts with me...”

They get their drinks and thank me - with a toast to me...

I turn to Cristina... “did you take her boyfriend?”

“No... she can’t get a man...”

“Then what is her problem?” I ask

“She’s just a miserable cunt...” Cristina replies... but she looks down and her lips move... she is holding something back... “Victor... Alejandro does not compare to you... he is no-where near your league...” she’s right...

“Did Elena leave Alejandro to be with me?”

“I don’t know... I’m confused...”

Elena shows up...

“What’s going on here...” in Spanish she calls Cristina a whore  - “are you messing with my man...”

Elena is angry... and she has been drinking... but not so much to be acting like this... something else is going on here... she turns to me

“What are you doing...???”

I straighten up and lift my head... I squint my eyes as I look straight into hers and raise my left eye brow just a bit that only she would notice it... she knows she just fucked up... but she must try to salvage some face...

Elena turns back to Cristina... she knows she doesn’t have a chance with me...

“You’re a whore... you’ve always been a whore... you want him... you can have him... he prefers whores anyway... and he will never care about you anyway... “ she looks at me

“It’s time you stop... before you say something really stupid...” I tell her

“Don’t tell me what to do!!” she yells at me

I stand up and touch her left arm... she pulls her arm back - “don’t touch me!!”

Alejandro - the hero arrives...

“Don’t touch her...” his friends are on their way from where they were sitting... we stare at each other - he and  I...

He opens his stupid mouth... “you don’t tell her what to do...”

I look over at Elena... “No... I don’t tell her what to do... she is free to do whatever the hell she wants...”

The bar manager had come out from behind the bar and was now in between Alejandro and me.. There were a couple of bouncers with him and he told Alejandro that he would have to leave... what can I say bartenders are among the few men in this world that like me...

Alejandro is looking at me -I can feel it - but I have not taken my eyes off Elena... I stare her down until she look to the floor and her face has gone red... she begins to cry and turns away... she runs out and Alejandro and everyone else follows... except for Cristina and another girl... who stays behind to comfort her... she is crying and Mickey comes to see if we need anything... drinks I let him know for me and the girls to my right... and for the girls to my left...

Mickey smiles at me... “you are a dangerous man...” he laughs...

He brings us our drinks and empty shot glasses... for everyone... “what shall we try now...” he smiles his annoying smile... “whatever’s next in line...” I tell him...

I turn to Cristina - “I actually do prefer whores...” she laughs... “things are so much less complicated with them...”

I stayed there for about forty minutes and then walked out to find a cab...

Elena was sitting in her car... I saw her but I ignored her and just made my way to the sidewalk and started walking...

I flagged down a passing taxi and came home...

The bell rang from the gate... who could it be...

I walked out to find Elena... who were you expecting?

Cristina... it ran through my mind too...

Alejandro... he doesn’t have what it takes...

I open the gate for Elena and she walks into the house...

I walk behind her and secure the doors...

For a long time we do not say a word... I have nothing to say... she knows this...

“God damn it, Elena... What do you want?”

She cries...

“I want to be your woman... “

“Then act like my woman...”

She walks to me and throws her arms around me and begs me to forgive her for acting like an idiot...

While I have her in my arms I tell her... “this bullshit will never happen again... I’ll be in another city with another whore before you realize it...”

She nods her head that is buried in my shoulder

“Now... make me something to eat or get the fuck out...’

She pulls herself together... and I walk into the bedroom... I undressed and took a shower...

She made huevos rancheros with rice and chilaquiles...

She’s in my bed...

When the sun comes up will she still want to be my woman?

Will I even care...

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

so necessary for a civilized society...

In Isabel's last post Unida a este mundo I commented - "how did we let life get so complicated...?"
This is a response to my own comment... Thanks Isabel for reminding me to post this...


Tuesday, November 27, 2012

take me to the valley

Take me to the valley
Where the tall grass grows
Let me play in fields
That no-body knows
...
Take me to the valley
Where God's light has always shone
In fields of memories
Where I will finally find a home
...
Take me to the valley
Where I'll lay me down to rest
Where hearts aren't broken
    And no dreams are stolen
And no sorrow to confess
...
Take me to the valley
Let my creator walk  with me
Where  sailor songs echo through the sky
Like the rumblings  from the sea

Saturday, November 24, 2012

If I could be the one...

If I could be the one you’re dreaming of
Would you believe me then if I said it was love
If I could be the voice you need to hear
Would you eat my laughter as I drank your tears
If everything you say about me is true
Then why is hard not to be with you
And if I could be the man I wish I could be
Would it change the way you think of me
Or would you leave me lost in this fantasy...

If I was the one who held the key
Would I unlock your heart and set the rest of you free
If I had the strength to look inside
Would I understand all the things I find
But if I had to chose between lovers and friends
I’d take the easier heart to mend
Because I know I don’t have the strength to hold you
The way you need to be held
Don’t think I ever told
I don’t want to be free from this spell...

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

in your arms tonight...

All of the kisses that I gave away
The moments of love I let go astray
All of the whispers and seductive lies
Are coming alive in the gold of your eyes

Now every promise that I ever made
And the foolish tricks that I had played
And the broken hearts that I left behind
Have come to tease me like your voice in my mind

All of the poems I wrapped up in my pain
The dreams I once had that got lost in the rain
All of the chances that drift out of sight
Are coming alive in your arms tonight

And all of the stories I never wrote down
The pleas of forgiveness every time I left town
And all of the women that set my heart free
Are all in the woman in front of me

Monday, November 12, 2012

nothing here to take my mind off you

The late night movie show
And all night music on the radio
But there’s nothing here
To take my mind off you
I toss and turn in bed
Shadows of your voice
Dance inside my head
and there’s nothing here
To take my mind off you...

And I can cross the dessert
I can cross the sea
Hide in another country
But your ghost’s still chasing me
And I could gamble with the devil
I could steal an angels wings
But I just go around in circles
Back to the same old things...

The late night talk show
And a crowded city under the moon glow
And there’s nothing here
To take my mind off you
I could pour another drink
And loose myself in the haze
Until I cannot think
But there’s nothing here
To take my mind off you...

And I could cross the dessert
And I could cross the sea
I could climb a mountain
But your ghost’s still chasing me
And I don’t want to loose you
And I don’t want to forget
So haunt me if you want me
I can’t let go of you yet...

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Deringer Girl

A long time ago - before I left El Paso to chase after Diana in Chicago - I started seeing a young lady named Sandra (The poems Maybe I'm Crazy & Kiss me in Spanish were written for her)... One night I made the fatal mistake of asking her what it was that she wanted - 

"Everything" she said.
"Hmm..." was my response... "everything... that's a lot..."
"Yes it is..."
"What is it that you want from me?" Fool...
Why did I ask that... do you really want to know...
"Everything..." she answered... looking right into my soul...
"Now... that is a lot..." I waited a bit... to study her face... "and what would I get in return for that?"

She walked to me... stood on her toes to reach my ear as I bent forward for her... "Everything..."

I don't know what happened to her... she was the girl that came somewhere in between Carmen and my departure for Chicago... That girl  had many things that I liked... but she was young... and I was in desperate need of a woman... but the fool that I was... I went chasing after a fantasy...

Elena read  "An Awkward Moment" - 

"You do kiss and tell... don't you" she said to me
"only the interesting stuff... don't worry... only  about a dozen people actually read that blog..."

"So you said I was a Deringer Girl... what's a Deringer Girl?"
I said - "hmm..."

The following is a post from the original Deringer Files... or from the Havana Club Blog... I'm not sure... but until I rethink my opinion... this is the closest explanation of a Deringer Girl... This was about the woman I referred to as "The Good Night Girl", the girl from "Coffee and Kisses" - she was the one before the one before Rebecca... I think...

... the way she tilts her head in her subtle way when she tries to analyze the things I say... and says "hmm..." the way I do when I pretend to have things all figured out or when I fake being interested... she at least learned that about me and the way she smiles when she says and does things that many might consider - naughty - I like that - the naughty side of her but she knows when I want her to be naughty and when I need her to be the mature responsible and sensible one... and she knows when to seduce me and how to seduce me... she is a woman and never lets me forget it... "girls are for teenage boys... and men who want to be teenage boys..." she tells me... and she is right... she does not let me forget she is a woman... all woman... she is strong and independent and has learned to take care of herself. She is confident and sassy and has a sense of humor cultivated by years of trying to figure out the simple mind of men. She does not need me - but she claims to desire me... and I am fine with that, she does not try to change me or try to trick me into revealing my inner most secrets and she knows when to let me be the man... She doesn't bring her day into the relationship... unless it concerns the relationship and she claims that she has no idea why she looks for me every evening since we met... she calls in the afternoon and knows my routine... but she does not impose or show up unannounced - though I would not mind if she did. She lets her hair down when she is with me and I have yet to see her in blue jeans.... and she knows how to dress... she is sophisticated and stylish - but I have never seen any fashions magazines at her place - wait - I did see copies of Esquire there... on her night stand (But, that is a men's magazine?)... her style is Parisian but she is a small town girl trying to get to the big city... or trying to get away from it...

She is thin... and a bit pale... but she got lucky when she caught my eye - because I like them thin and pale - she is not what many would consider perfect - but she is  perfect for me... I try to get her to eat - she seems to forget to at times - she's got a lot going on... and I worry she is going through the day snacking on candy bars... she likes that I worry about her and she lets me do it... when I do get her to eat - she's a carnivore... and could care less about what others may think - all sophistication is out the window when she gets her hands on a good steak.... she knows what to do and say to keep all my attention on her - and yes, she knows how to feed my ego... and she knows how to make me want her... ah... the reverse seduction... I'll be damned! - It worked... and if another woman should arouse my interest while we our out in public she makes it perfectly clear without having to say a word of all that could be mine and all that I could lose... should I walk away from this one... and I have to say... I am totally impressed by her confidence... that is sexy... I have caught her in vulnerable moments when she was not too sure of herself... when she did not know I was spying on her... but she talked herself through it and there are times when she is in my arms that she is the complete opposite of her daytime persona... and I think she knows that I find this side of her very attractive... and she uses this to keep me wanting more... you see... I find myself wanting to spend more time with her... but - is this a game... I don't want to play... and I think she is playing for keeps - but she may still be testing me... good for her... I want her to make sure I am the right one for her... before I waste her time - put me through all your tests... you will have to work hard for this scoundrel...

She is Smart - smarter than I am - and has told me that men are often intimidated by her intellect - I told her it makes me hard... what?... it does... I'm looking to improve my family gene pool.... the smarter the chick the better - if I should get her pregnant... the kid has a fighting chance... I wasn't born with my smarts - I got it all the hard way... and she is quantum physics smart... and understands more about the human mind than she pretends to... she can play poker with the boys and have tea at the lady's book club - or whatever that is... we can go to the fights and she is as comfortable there as she is at the symphony... and she says if we were married I would have to get her season tickets and she would let me bet at the track... cool... yes - we've had that conversation... but I told her I dream of the life of a gipsy... and could she live that way... and her response was - "would you take care of me?" - "of course"... I said... and she didn't say anything else.... I have not deciphered that one yet.

... but most of all, I like the way her breath feels on the back of my neck at the moment... as I type this...and the smell of her hair... and the way she whispers my name in a Spanish accent... and she doesn't think I am going to post this...

well... 

Friday, November 9, 2012

moments of the night - part II

There are moments of the night when I  listen in the darkness for sounds of you... your footsteps... your breath beside me, behind me... falling down on me... your sighs and the tones of your seductions... your whispers and your whimpers... I lose sleep for wandering strange cities trying to find the smells of you... your hair... your neck... that place between your breasts... and that soft tender flesh of your wrist... I roam the hallways of empty hotels in search of the taste of you... your lips... your earlobes... the back of your knee... the fruit of your vagina...

There are moments of the night when the insanity and the solitude are too much to bear alone and only the ghost of you can rock me to sleep... only the thought of you and the shadows of you can sooth out the doubts and the fears and all the uncertainties of life without you...
                                           
There are moments of the night when you just wont come... when I need you the most - I can’t find your ghost... when I am frightened of myself your voice is not there to stop me from destroying the furniture... your touch is not there to stop me from setting another wall of books a’ blaze... your sweet whisper is not there to stop me from jumping from another bridge... another tower... another cliff... in my mind... when the insanity and the solitude are too much to bear alone...

There are moments of the night that I long for your anger... your screams and your wails... the fires of hell from your curses and the bruises you left on my soul... I pray to your angels to feel the cold steal of the blade you held at my heart... I long for your tears and the desperation in your voice... and all the things that tore me apart... my delicate angel with a broken heart...

And after all these years... can it be...

It is you that I am looking for... it is you that I am working so hard for... it is you that I am bartering with angels and demons for... now that your ghost comes less and less... I find myself... lost and empty...

How can it be... after all these years... that now I come to realize that I loved you all along... and now that the memory of your voice is drifting from these moments of the night... now that those whispers that saved me... now that those little hands that pulled me up from the pits of hell are no longer here to brush my hair and seduce the dark side of my soul... now that the  voice that brought back the hope and the desire is fading away from these moments of the night... I come to realize you were the one...

Did I take to long for you... did your memories tire of waiting for me to come running to you  - now that I am losing the phantom of you... to these cold... empty... lonely... silent... moments of the night...

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Her love's now a ghost

She comes and she goes
Her love’s now a ghost
That only arrives with the moon
Her whispers and sighs
They now come disguised
As storm clouds that drift off too soon...

Her kiss and caress
And the warmth of her breasts
Are just a memory
The strength of her thighs
And the look in her eyes
No longer come to conquer me...
 Claudia

Monday, November 5, 2012

An awkward moment...

I will begin this story by saying that I am currently residing in the city where I was born.  For me it has become strange and does not resemble the city of my youth - I have no memories of this fascinating  new place, which makes it perfect to start over again... The violence here has been curved and I am not worried a bit about what feud a couple of drug traffickers have between themselfs - it’s really none of my affair... I have absolutely no fear here - it’s not like I am in Africa or any country in the Middle East in which the U.S. is currently bringing Democracy to - that Democracy sure is fucking bloody... I have chosen to be here, for how long I do not know... but it is a temporary base camp until I tie up some loose ends at which point I will depart for Panama...

This City is where I spent my nights and most of my days in the closing of 1996 and the beginning of 1997 when  I  had left Elsa behind in Lubbock and returned to El Paso to go back to school - I did not really want to go to school but did so only for Her - Elsa. I thought I could get some sort of useful skill that would help me find a respectable occupation and show her that I could be responsible and provide for her the way I though she wanted - then again - I never ever really knew what it was that she wanted - from me, at least - by the way, to this day, I have never worked in the field in which I studied nor have I ever used any of the skills I learned in school -

When I had returned to El Paso, women were the furthest from my mind, all I wanted to do was finish school and find a job... and... be with Elsa... you see... she was all I knew... she was all I wanted... and at the time I always believed that she and I were destined to be together - in spite of the fact that we were both changing into different people that no longer knew each other, for some reason I thought she would wait for me while she was off at school and I was in mine.  I was actually pretty good in school, I was highly motivated and eager to learn, just to get it over with... but when I found out that Elsa had married... things came crumbling down... I did finish school but reluctantly did I carry on... and  I  had fallen into a self destructive pattern of one night stands and drunken nights as I gathered me a harem of willing young ladies on whom to waste my reckless, loveless passions on...  And, here is where this story begins...

Yesterday, I rose from my restless slumber before the sun could make its way through my window... greeted by the low humming glow of my computer, reminding me that Singapore is waiting for a reply... I stumbled out of bed hungry and grumpy and in need of the warm tender flesh that only youth can satisfy... I think of Thailand as I make my way to the bath room... and as I try to gather my thoughts together in the shower... the ghost of Veronica comes to me once more.. she wraps her arms around me and places her lips on my back... and fades away with the steam before I can whisper her name...

I walked out into the morning like an angel looking to pick a fight... I need sugar... I need coffee... and I need it now! A few blocks away from my place is my bakery and I can smell the fresh scent of pastries waiting for me...  I sniff it out like a wolf in the forest tracking a rabbit in the snow... in my mind I can already taste the cream filling and the fruit exploding in my mouth as I will bite down on freshly baked dough the way a vampire bites down on the delicate breast of a sleeping teenage maiden in his parlor... my head spins with lust for powdered sugar and chocolate cake... I calculate my options and try to make up my mind as to what I will chose before I arrive so that I can pick quickly and leave but I already know that by the time I reach the counter I will be walking out with entirely different goodies than what I had in mind when I arrive... I think of Bruno’s and my mouth waters... I have come to the decision that pastries is something I choose not  live with out... I may give up Asian girls before I give up pastries... and I really love Asian girls... As I opened the door to the bakery the smell of freshly baked bread and sugar filles my lungs and my blood races up to my brain in a fury and almost knocks me off my feet... Don Carlos behind the counter laughs at my dramatic entrance... I march like a zombie to the racks of doughnuts in front of me as a choir performs Wagner in the opera house of my mind...

Don Carlos prepares me a small cup of coffee with cream and I walked out with two apple filled enpanadas, a sugar doughnut, and a croissant... plus I ate a pumpkin filled enpanada and a croissant at the counter while chatting with Don Carlos...

I made my way to a major street where I knew I could find  a cab that would take me to an electronics store... where... unknown to me... I would find Elena...

I was in search of new desk top publishing software and graphic design software... something new... I am always on the look-out to try new design software... I never studied art or design in school... but I should have... perhaps I would have actually enjoyed school more if I had learned something I actually wanted to... but I did go on to start my own design studio and eventually I would become a partner at Celestial Elephant - though they were not a design studio until I came along... that is a story for another day... I will say this... I failed... a lot... boy did I fail... but I paid my dues, there is no denying that... the thing is, I had failed so much when I was younger that I lost my confidence and faith in my self... I listened too much to people telling me that I couldn’t do something instead of surrounding myself with people that would push me to reach for the things that I wanted... but then... I did not know what it was that I really wanted... and that is half of the trick... to know what you want... Designing (of any sort) is something I rarely do... it is not my main occupation - I am a Business Finance Consultant - I find money for companies in need, whether they be established businesses or start ups... basically I am a broker, selling other peoples money and getting commission from putting others in debt... I am good at what I do... I don’t play games with people and I make an honest living and live with out quilt what-so ever... but I don’t just broker money... I’ll broker anything... anything you are looking for or want to sell... this is how I came to become a partner at Celestial Elephant - it was a printing company looking for a loan to expand. It was not enough money to attract any investors but it was perfect for me... it had just been taken over by the grand daughter of it’s founder - whom herself was in marketing... I convinced her to make me a partner and we turned her business into a design studio and small publishing company... and... we also do printing... I don’t make any decisions nor do I do any actual work there... I show up once in a while to give some input and look over the books and see what is going on but rarely will I be asked to help out on any design or layout work... I did come up with the idea for a couple of news letters that we published... but they are no longer in print... I am pretty much useless for them... even when I think I have found some new amazing software... they are one step ahead of me...

You know that feeling you get when someone is staring at you... that awkward, uneasy feeling that makes you a bit self conscious... yeah, that one... that’s what came over me... and I don’t usually get that feeling when I know I am being stared at... but I had a feeling that something was about to happen and one thing I have learned in my life - is to listen to that little voice inside my head and to pay attention to my feelings... well being the paranoid type, the first thing I did was look for the exits... a door leading to a back room... try to remember how many people were inside the shop... who looked like trouble... is my knife in my pocket... yes... are my pastries secured... priorities people... not only should you visualize the good things you want out of life... you should also visualize your way out of a bad situation... but there was no threat... at that point... I picked up a box from a rack in front of me and casually turned around as I lifted it closer to my face pretending to read the label as I scanned the room... and there she was kids... a woman... a real woman... not what television or your magazines tells you is a woman... but a real woman... and she was looking right at me... I looked right back at her... I squinted my eyes and gazed at her... she wore a black skirt that covered her knees and a silk blouse the color of peach. Her hair was slicked back and tied in a bun... looked a bit like my professor, Gloria, back in school... and she had a multi colored scarf warped around her neck... she was, I dare say... a Deringer Girl... there was something very familiar about this woman... not only was she my type... sophisticated and mysteries and very, very feminine... she had a look and a shyness which I seem to always find in the women I ended up hurting the most... her stare was not diverting as I gazed upon her... forming scientific equations of seduction in my devious little brain... forming hellos and witty introductions to use on her... I gaze... into her eyes... like a gunfighter in the mid-day sun... on an empty dusty road... in a broke down Mexican village... come to take revenge for honor lost... and she.. The victim of a broken heart... she looks at me as to say... you killed my father... prepare to die... it was quite intense for a moment there... but my thoughts turn lust-full... perhaps it was the skirt... or the scarf... I have always been a sucker for women in scarfs... a strange little fetish... perhaps it is why I loved French girls so much... maybe it was the way my lips form into a wicked half smile when I have decided I want to seduce a woman that shows my intentions... but it makes them blush and turn their eyes downward... I had her... at that moment I knew... I had her... she had made up her mind and she knew that I knew... it was just now a matter of discretion...

I turned my eyes slowly back to the label on the box and began to read... and turned my back to her...

She walks to me... slowly... carefully... calculating every step she took... perhaps a bit hesitant and doubting herself... forming her own hellos and witty introductions...

In Spanish she spoke...
 - that isn’t very good... not worth the money...
 - Have you tried this yourself?
 - (she nods) I wouldn’t waste my time with that if I were you...
 - do you work here?
 - I’m a marketing consultant...
 - (I nod my head almost un-noticeable) do you know anything about 3D rendering? - I asked without looking at her as I replaced the box where I got it from...
 She tilts her head to try to look at my eyes... I know she is smiling... she has a look on her face that I know... I know that look she is giving... she is waiting for something... she wants me to respond... she wants me to reply...
 - are you an artist? She asks... still waiting
 - sometimes...
 - I don’t know anything about 3D... do you mean something Like MAYA?
 - something like that...
 - well... how about trying MAYA...
 - I point a finger up at her and nod...

I look at her... she smiles... her head tilts more... she looks a bit confused... she is still waiting for me to respond... she is waiting for me to remember her... but I can’t... I always wonder to myself in this situation  - should I remember... they are always hurt when I don’t...

I extend my hand to her and say  - my name is Victor... and yours is...
 - I know... I know you are Victor... she is still smiling and I find myself becoming quite taken by her... she continues - why did you change your name?

The first thing I thought of was Dash Deringer... she knows I go by Dash...
Now I looked confused...

 - Vogt... why did you change your last name to Vogt...

Now I was a bit scared... shit! She did know me...

 - Victor Vogt... she reaches her hand up to take mine and shakes it gently... her hands are soft and very female...

 - Not too many people pronounce it like that on the first try... (with a silent G)
   I never changed it... I simply started using it again... Vogt is my name... it is... who I am...

 - aaah... she is still holding my hand... waiting for me to remember...

 - How do you know I go by Vogt?

 - Many years ago I tried to find you... but you had disappeared... and then a few  years back you came out of hiding... but your name came up on the internet with a matching name... Victor Vogt... so I looked up Victor Vogt and found some of your writings and...

 - Why were you trying to find me...

 - (she looks away and pulls back her hand... her smile fades away...) I was curious...

I can’t remember her... did I hurt her... I must have... I wish I could remember...

 - ( she looks back at me) I have always wondered about you... and always wanted to know what happened to you... were did you go... I always wanted you to be happy... her smile comes back.... but... it is not the same...

 I think of the Deringer Files...
 - when was the last time you tried to look for me...

She laughs... and says...
 - Deringer Files... (she composes herself... and reaches up to touch my arms with her right hand) I never knew... those poems... I never knew that about you... that side of you... was it there... all those years ago...

I gaze into her eyes... and try to let her know what I am thinking...
 - yes... maybe not those... but it was there...
 - you never showed it...
 - it was there... I assured her...

Her eyes began to water... but she quickly shook that demon off her...
 - Elena... Victor... Soy Elena...

She waited for me to process and try to pull up her face and her voice from the dungeon of forgotten kisses in the crumbling palace that was my heart... but I could not come up with any images of her in those lonely corridors... and my look begged for forgiveness... I was a fox in a snare begging for mercy... “please just let me loose to chase butterflies... and I will leave your chickens alone”... I have been in this situation before... but at this moment I felt like an absolute scoundrel... I was ashamed... that never happens... I could not remember this woman and I could not conjure an apology sincere enough to satisfy her...

I could sense her uneasiness and embarrassment and before she could come up with an excuse to walk way I placed my hands on her fore arms to keep her there
 - you know that I was a drunk... back then I was a drunk... (I assumed we knew each other when I stumbled into hell...) You’ve read the Deringer Files... you know that...
 - I know... I know... you were drunk the night we... and Diana... waiting for you in the next room... I didn’t know that she and you were not together... I just thought... everyone thought... I didn’t know about Chicago... and Paris... and Elsa...
 - how do you know about Elsa...
 - Beatrice told me...
I remember Beatrice... so this narrows the possibilities and time-line down... she knew Diana... and we... apparently... had a relation...
 - I never told Beatrice about Elsa... but Everyone new I suppose... It must have been Javier (Javier was friends with Beatrice and I went to school with him)

 - I am sorry that I don’t remember your kiss, Elena... forgive me, please... for any stupid thing I might have done... and that perhaps we should both try to forget...

She smiles... and her eyes begin to water again...
 - you have changed...
   Why couldn’t you be then the person you are now...
 - then we would not have this moment in time... and this... moment... I will always remember...

She wipes a runaway tear from her cheek...
 - perhaps...

She takes a step back from me...
 - I should be leaving I have a family thing to get to...
 - do you need a lift... we could share a taxi...
 - I have a car... do you need a ride... (she offers)... have you ever had a car...
 - not since I lived in one...
She laughs uneasy... but she laughs
 - I’ll take a ride... I live here now...
 - you do... why... people are trying to get out...
 - trust me... the smart ones will be coming back... I have enpanadas... (I motion to the bag under my arm...

She gave me a ride home and she asked about Paris... Diana... on the way to my place I tried to give her a full account of that story as best I could but I was more interested in hearing what she knew... what did Beatrice know about Diana... more importantly what did Diana say about it all... since I never saw her or spoke to her again... Beatrice had taken a trip to Mexico City where she saw Diana But Diana did not want to speak about me - in fact According to Elena, Diana was over me by the time she had returned to Mexico City - she was seeing some one new and had nothing kind to say about me for leaving Paris and not waiting for her or be willing to chase after her like a hungry dog looking for scraps... but also according to Elena... no one even knew that Diana and I had finally gotten together - of course she also says that everyone had thought that Diana and I were together even when I was with Elsa... they thought I was cheating on Elsa while she was in Lubbock... I never told anyone in that circle that I was leaving for Chicago when I did... I just left... and it wasn’t until Beatrice had returned from Mexico that anyone found out what happened to me and Diana... She never did return to El Paso or to Northen Mexico... not that any one knows of... Diana still has Family in El Paso... but she will never return... Elena asked what was in the letter I wrote Diana when I left her flat... and I told her I could not remember... she laughed... honestly and emotionally... laughter without apologies...
 -  poor Victor, the drink and the drugs have taken their tool, haven’t they... how have you survived....
 - by the kindness of strangers my dear... the kindness of strangers...

We arrived at my home and I asked her to come in for a coffee and pastries... she wrote down her phone numbers for me and I told her everything about myself that she wanted to know... and I felt like I was making a new friend... little did I know... she was laying her trap... and I had let my guard down...

She had to leave... and I led her to the door... but as I reach to open it she jumped in front of me and my arm lassoed her waist and I pulled her with out resistance to me and we kissed... long and slow... deliberately and carefully calculated on both sides... she knew what she wanted when we first gazed at each other back at the store... we both knew this is where we would end up... we both knew this is the moment we wanted... I breathed her in... in between kisses I inhaled every part of her and filled my lungs and my soul with her... the taste of her... the sighs of her... she would not escape my dungeon again... I would build her a cell of her own in the fortress of unfinished poems and kisses I locked away for the ghost of love that comes to haunt me less and less these days... and at the moment I was ready to tear her blouse open she leans into my ear and whisper... “I have always hated loving you...”

The soft sound of her voice swirled in my mind like a drop of ink in a glass of water and the words she spoke punched me in the side of the head... and I came out of a dream like a boxer rising from the matt  before the referee calls the fight... I rise up to take another beating... but what is that I have to prove to a crowd of hungry spectators laying down their money to see me bleed some more...

Elena...

It was those words she spoke...

I was drunk the night we made love... I don’t remember making love to her... but I remember those words and I remember her... that night she said to me - “I hate being in love with you...” and yes, Diana was in the next room... Elena is Beatrice’s younger sister and would sometimes be around when that circle of friends got together... she wasn’t always around though, at that time Elena was eighteen and the rest of us were in our mid twenties... but when she was around I remember speaking with her and trying to get friendly - but I was seeing Elsa and then there was, of course, Diana...  I drifted away from that circle - they wanted me around less and less but tolerated me only for the sake of Diana and Javier.  Elena, I remember ended up going to school in Monte Rey in Mexico and ended up never seeing her again... and Diana and I never actually got together until several years later...

Elena was the first woman I made love to After I found out that Elsa had married... I was very drunk that night... a big group of us had gotten together at a place called Electri-Q... and I was drunk when I got there... this was still a full month after I had found out about Elsa... I still hadn’t been with a woman... but that night I remember Diana was ignoring me because I was being a miserable drunk so I danced and drank with Elena and her friends all night long when they showed up at the club...and now as I write this... I am remembering more of that night... but I remember those words...

When I realized who she was... I pushed her away...

 - Elena!.................!!!

She knew that I remembered...

 - you look fantastic... it was very hard for me to be cool at this moment...

She started to blush  - perhaps a bit worried about what I do remember from that night...
But I did not want her to leave... and I knew that she did not want me to let her go... not lot this... so I grabbed her... and kissed her... and tore that God damn blouse off and took her there at the door...



- well... she panted... her shirt torn to shreds and skirt ripped from the side up to her hip... her hair tossed in a mess like a leaf storm in Autumn...  - I hope you remember that one...

 - that I will remember... did you really have some family thing to go to...
 - yes...
 - please don’t tell your sister about this...
 - how will I explain when I show up wearing a man’s shirt...
 - you’re in marketing... you’ll think of something...

We kissed and made slow delicate love until the sun went down... and she finally convinced herself that she had to leave... and get to that very important family gathering...

She asked if I was going to disappear again... I said not too soon...

She asked if I was going to write about this... I said I had no plans to do so... but I might change my mind... perhaps you might want to check the Deringer Files on Monday I told her...

Now that you now where to find me...
























art work by 
Dmitry Shorin

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Monday, October 29, 2012

I have gone Marking

Pablo Neruda

I have gone marking the atlas of your body
with crosses of fire.
My mouth went across: a spider, trying to hide.
In you, behind you, timid, driven by thirst.

Stories to tell you on the shore of evening,
sad and gentle doll, so that you should not be sad.
A swan, a tree, something far away and happy.
The season of grapes, the ripe and fruitful season.

I who lived in a harbor from which I loved you.
The solitude crossed with dream and with silence.
Penned up between the sea and sadness.
Soundless, delirious, between two motionless gondoliers.

Between the lips and the voice something goes dying.
Something with the wings of a bird, something of anguish and oblivion.
The way nets cannot hold water.
My toy doll, only a few drops are left trembling.
Even so, something sings in these fugitive words.
Something sings, something climbs to my ravenous mouth.
Oh to be able to celebrate you with all the words of joy.

Sing, burn, flee, like a belfry at the hands of a madman.
My sad tenderness, what comes over you all at once?
When I have reached the most awesome and the coldest summit
my heart closes like a nocturnal flower.


Saturday, October 27, 2012

Angel of Temptation

Honey you’re an ice cream - on a Sunday afternoon
You’re a cool lemonade - on a sunny day in June
Baby you’re the whisper - of a humming bird in spring
You are the summer water - bringing life to everything...

Honey you’re the cool frost - that gathers on my window pain
You’re the steam from hot chocolate - rising to great me once again
Woman you’re the Christmas lights - wrapped around my tree
You’re the magic and the wisdom - in my philosophy...

Honey you’re the sugar - in my candy holiday
You’re the smell of the ocean - you’re the sounds of Montego Bay
Lady you’re the cool breeze - coming from the sea
You’re the angel of temptation - pouring inspiration down on me...

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

The Ballad of Star Chaser



I was the angel of thunder
When the world was young
I fell from Heaven like a snow flake
Trying not to hit the sun...
Became a pirate on the Marauder 
And I conquered the seven seas
And on the shores of India
I caught love's disease...

I was  the poet warrior
I conquered Heaven for my kings
But loves desperation
Brought me to my knees...
I crossed the fires of midnight
To mend a broken heart
But found an island of mad men
Stumbling in the dark...

I was prince of the city
Where all kings are crowned
But the sound of her heart beating
Is the curse that brought me down...
I can still hear them laughing
From the deepest parts of hell
To never let me forget
How the great Star Chaser fell...

I am the story teller...
Each night I ask the stars above
To give me strength to last forever
Until I’m with the one I love...
Her kiss I cannot forget
For I crumbled like a man 
My lust knows no regret
I'll find my Heaven once again...
Illustration by Victor Vogt for the "The Barrons Of Celica"

Sunday, October 21, 2012

10 useless facts about Dash Deringer

 ... but we're going to list them anyway...

 1.  I am not on face book... and you shouldn’t  be either...

 2.  I do not use a cell phone nor do I wish to own one again... my life functioned well before one and it functions quite well without... and it does not effect my business or my life in a negative way living without...

 3.  I do not own a car... not since I had to lived in one...

 4.  I do not own a home... well... I actually have found some land that I do have my eye on... with a little house on it... by the sea... everything else is incorporated...

 5.  I rather enjoy my time alone... I like not having to explain myself to anyone... not having to defend my life and the way I have chosen to live it... not having to make excuses for my comings and goings... my sudden urges to get away... and return when I please... my leisurely attitude toward life and devil may care about the money we spend... but I tell you again... for those that care to listen... once you know what it truly is that you want... then you go after it... you breathe it... eat it... drink it... dream it and live it... and you will get it... but only if you truly know what it is that you want... now, my love for my solitude and devotion to my bachelor ways does not mean that I will always live this way... at least I hope not... I do have much love to give... and I would like to find some one to enjoy the world with... but I know what I want... even in that department... why should I settle for less... exactly... I shouldn’t...

 6.  I think I look good in a suit... unfortunately, as I do not report to an office - not even my own - on a daily basis, I do not get to wear them as much as I would like... but I think I will start dressing more professionally - once more - if for no other reason than it makes me feel more mature and manly... and the women always like it...

 7.  I love pasta... I love bread... and I love sweets... and I have reached the age when I must now start working hard to keep my body in proper working order and looking good - and I know I once said that I would not work out... it seems that I am now killing myself to stay alive... ain’t that a bitch...

 8.  It wasn’t too long ago that I sold off all my rights to a screen play that has since been turned into a movie... by selling of all my rights - I mean all of them, kids... my name will never appear in it’s credits and I will never receive any royalties... but I always was quite happy with the deal I made and walked away well compensated... these kinds of deals happen quite often... and if you want to know the formula for a movie that will get made... I am willing to let you in on that secret... for the right price... or I might just spill the beans over at “OSB”... and I will not (can’t) even say what movie it was...

 9.  I have recently been ordained as a Minister... bet you never saw that coming...

10.  A regular stalker of the Deringer Files asked why this blog has such little followers... she feels that we should be bigger... I reminded her that her icon is not included with the followers that I do have - as most stalkers do not wish to admit that they are indeed stalkers - or regular readers... but I have to say... I do not want this little blog, that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, to have many followers... I like it just the way it is... don’t you... of course you do... and that is why you come... this is “the V.I.P. Lounge... at the Havana Club”.

the usual suspects...
She had the looks, he had the muscle, and I had the brains...
and we'll never be that young again...

Friday, October 19, 2012

I need you...

More than a flower needs the rain...
More than an empire needs a name...
More than wild horses need to be free...
I need you...

More than the summer needs June...
More than a rose needs to bloom...
More than a river needs to flow to the sea...
I need you...

More than a sparrow needs to sing...
More than a castle needs a king...
More than a young lamb needs valleys of green...
I need you...

  need is a pretty strong word...
  what if I just say..." you make me want to do stupid things..."

Sunday, October 14, 2012

there you are...

Inevitable...
Brad Pitt for No5
I do believe this is the first time any man plays the role of the face of Chanel...

Saturday, October 13, 2012

I can't tell you I love you...

I can’t grow a garden - without any rain
I can’t write a love song - without feeling the pain
I can’t get to Heaven - without going through Hell
I can’t break a curse - without knowing the spell...

I can’t cross the desert - without the stars in the sky
I can’t cross the ocean - without the wind on my side
I can’t be an outlaw - without breaking the rules
I can’t be the hero - if I’m stealing the jewels...

I can’t lead you through darkness - if the candles wont glow
I can’t put out the fire - if the water wont flow
I can’t move the mountain - if my faith isn’t strong
I can’t get back home - if I don’t know where I belong...

I can’t fight the evil - if I don’t know what’s true
I can’t race to the arctic - without a brave crew
I can’t buy you diamonds - without silver and gold
I can’t bathe you in sunlight - if the clouds wont unfold...

I can’t tell you I love you - if the feeling’s not there
I can’t promise forever - if this is going nowhere
I can’t give you these words - if I don’t write them down
I can’t break your heart - If I’m not around...
art work by Dmitry Shorin

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

the last song...

This is the last song - that I will ever write
I’m down to the last bottle of wine for the night
And these are the last words - you’ll ever get from me
This ain’t no broken promise - it’s just a broken melody...

This is the last time - I will call out your name
I know you’ve moved on - I better do the same
And this will be the last girl - I’m gonna love tonight
I’m gonna give it all I’ve got to give before the morning light...

This is the last promise - I will ever make to you
This will make up for all the dreams I could not make come true
These are the last tears I’ll leave behind in this place
Let the beat of my heart fade away - Like the ghost of your beautiful face...


Sunday, October 7, 2012

indescribable grey...

There was a woman in Mumbai with eyes that were an indescribable grey, and every time I found myself trapped in her gentle gaze I felt as if I was swimming through a rain cloud... for they had a hint of sadness in them.  Her smile was subtle and tender and... quite reluctant... for she only smiled at me to be polite... but for two weeks we carried on such an unspoken affair at a small tea-house down the road from the Celestial Elephant Paper Company.  Every after-noon I would arrive for my tea (or a Coffee, some days) and read the English paper... or a magazine... or just day dream of the beauty of the colors of India...

I never knew her name and I never bothered to make conversation with her - though I could have found many things to speak of with her - I do recall that one of the girls, a designer at Celestial Elephant, may have mentioned this beauty, and that they were acquainted, and this woman, with eyes of the sea covered in winter, may have also been a designer...

Every after noon I would arrive before her... place my order and sit at the same table - against the wall to the right of the entrance, facing the window... she would walk in... always as I was ready to sit and place her order and sit at the same table... in front of the window to the right of the entrance and sat facing me... she always carried what looked like a sketch book - though I never saw her draw in it and she carried an agenda - like a Filofax - she would stir her tea slowly... with long thin fingers that blossomed into nails of porcelain... painted and manicured by ancient, mystical creatures from the deep gardens of Agartha... I imagine the swirls she made in her cup of tea opening portals to other worlds and wondered what I must do to get there... she would often loose herself in that trance of stirring her tea and would look up startled when she would wake from her self induce hypnosis... to find my gaze upon her... I would give her a half a smile in approval of her eccentric behavior and she would force herself to smile... that unapologetic... yet, socially acceptable... fake... courtesy smile... which only made my smile bigger and friendlier... quite pleased with myself at inducing what might turn out to be disdain for me from this woman...

And so it was...

For two weeks in Mumbai we carried on this way... it was on the fourth day that I actually found myself anticipating her and placing bets with myself on what she would be wearing and how she would fix her hair... would it be covered under a scarf... would it be tied back... would it be loose and free... would she take pity on this miserable poets soul and allow me a whiff of her dark silky strands... I would dream, some nights, of those mysterious swirls in her tea cup... and the white squall raging in the seas of her eyes... and by the end of the sixth day I found I was writing little poems for her... four or six little lines professing my love for her... and only her... I pledged on my knees... in one poem... to be her champion as she knighted me with her pencil... and swore to never love another... I wrote her poems and promises and reminders to meet me here tomorrow... which I ended up polluting the city with...

Did she know... the desire she inspired in me... the curse of her beauty... did she know... the insanity she was forcing down upon me... did she know?

The day before I left Mumbai  - on this trip - I did not visit the tea-house.  I stopped before I entered and decided to wait for her across the street - there is a small shop there were I hid behind some racks behind the window and stood in silence like a tiger waiting for it’s prey to foolishly stumble into my lair... she walked into my trap... with anticipation... and stopped at the entrance... fidgeting with her blouse and lowered her scarf from her hair - it was tied back today... she wore lipstick the color of blood... dripping from a matador’s sword... and I thought I saw her let out a sigh... she entered as she always did... ignoring the world around her... dismissing the lowly peasants that hold up the kingdom she rules over... haughty little princes... but she stopped at her table and stared out the window... could she see me?

Her face became confused... and her confusion turned somber, and what was the beginning of a smile turned to disappointment as she slowly turned her head to face my empty table... she forced her self to sit and gazed deep into her tea cup...

She sat there for a few minutes pretending to look over her schedule and flipping through the pages of her portfolio... something she never did in all these fourteen days... until now... she re-arranged the objects on her table... and moved them back into place again... she looked around for a ghost that was not there... shifting her head to the sound of a voice she never even heard before... she began to tremble like a squirrel on a delicate branch swaying in the breeze... she looked out the window and back at the entrance... she looked up to the counter but her ghost was nowhere to be found... nowhere...

I watched her come to terms with her solitude and she reluctantly picked up her spoon and lost herself in the swirls in her tea cup...


Farewell, my darling...

I walked out of the shop and headed up the road to the studio...

And I have never been back to that particular tea-house... again...