She Doesn’t Speak French

On sleepless nights

I stroll the left bank in sequined heels

My Eyelids heavy with smoky glitter

Among the art I find you

Your essence pierces my veins

Settles in the pool of my heart

Dim lights flicker their last warning in

the cafe where like willows we sway

To long forgotten love songs

Then you are gone never hearing  Je t’aime

the only French I know.

Image result for art by Mark Spain

Mark Spain Art

“Je t’aime, Je t’aime  (lyrics by Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin)

“I love you

Like a fool like a soldier

Like a movie star

I love you I love you

Like a wolf like a king

Like a man that I am not

 I love you like that”

Bourbon Street

Late afternoons I sit at the counter of a small diner sipping vanilla coke watching the day turn into night or dollar green but it seems as Gershwin said, not for me. It is dog days and I am hot and tired and mostly luckless, angry too, my new love fading so soon. I dream myself into a hot soak in a fancy clawed foot bath tub sinking my dusty body into lilac scented bubbles. I imagine lying back with closed eyes as the hot water flicks at peony nipples. I am what one might call self-employed these days.
Settling for a motel shower stall I scrub my body that smells of dusty magnolias with rose scented oil until it glimmers like alabaster. Slipping into a black sheath, silver seamed stockings and stiletto heels saved for the occasion, I make my way onto Bourbon Street. At the corner the sounds of a sax carries through the open door of a dimly lit bar, it drifts up the alley over the roof of a brothel falling into gentle ruin. From my booth there I stare through a prism of glass at the Dog Star and blow a kiss to the man in the moon already yawning at the deep purple sky.

Night Music

denizen of dreams

My dream dies then returns

where you are a denizen who

speaks in languages I’ve yet

to learn

our dream had weight yet

Left no impression in the snow.

That December we

spoke in stutters still the heat

of our tongues turned words

to smoke.

You appear on the back of my eyes

etched into walls where light

and shadow mingle.

Why did you have to be so beautiful?

Now December holds me fast

forever retrieving the dream.

Night Music

Just Once More

I’ve  unfastened  knots

expunged cruel disputes

expelled grief to an acceptable level

Hidden sadness behind a wink and smile

cast all  doubts out to sea

We’ve conquered the boundaries of both hemispheres

where we traveled half-blind in the mist

Let me have you hold you adore you once more

and if it  don’t work out then you can tell me goodbye.

Night Music

To The Masses Unfree by Serge Gurkski

Do not
corrupt the binds that hold you
but should you feel so inclined
do not waste what you do not have.
In altered zones of delight
I tumble through the days.
My lover comes and goes leaving me
lonely and politics is not soothing either.

I speak to America, You beautiful nation.
Beauty is not my friend
but the concept that governs is.
Read the lines on which your independence
rests you citizens of heaven.

The Congress, July 4th, 1776.

“The history of the King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpation, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States“.

“”Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it”

…writer and philosopher George Santayana

A Little Night Music

Blue Bird

When I spread my wings

I feel the pull of freedom.

I spread them wide and trail

my shadow the way birds do.

Your hands are elegant thieves

your tongue a web of lies,

in this desperate nest of chaos

When the veil falls apart and

daylight slivers through I can see

the slant of sky where you slipped in.

Night Music

Loui Jover

For Pablo

When I found  you

I was not searching

beautiful and wild

our lids heavy with desire

we sipped Santiago raindrops

from our cupped tongues.

Tears of salt-rose fell from my eyes

at the hour of your departure and

my heart became a  dying bird

it’s wings unfastened and open.

 

Night on the Island

by Pablo Neruda

I have slept with you
and on waking, your mouth,
come from your dream,
gave me the taste of earth,
of sea water, of seaweed,
of the depths of your life,
and I received your kiss
moistened by the dawn
as if it came to me
from the sea that surrounds us.

 

Night Music