She.. The Mistress of the NIght

She was sitting there, in the far corner of the bar basking in the ultra blue light of the bar. Legs crossed. Sheer black dress. Ruby red lipstick.

A slim cigarette in an ivory holder held firmly between her lips. Puffs of little clouds escaping with every breath.

Slightly chipped nails playing with the curls. an inwardly pressure building. an eruption of feelings. Feelings across the spectrum. The need to be held then released. Kissed and left alone under a lamp in the street. Wined and dined with no promises beyond 9pm.

Five Rivers

The last night
The farewell
The night of the living dead
5 blades across the flesh
The first try
A plough of blood
Trail of blood
5 crimson rivers running up my thigh
Gushing out of me
Into you
Pouring into your vessel
Filling your vial
My 5 rivers in you
Love… Everlasting

Unknown Legend

He lost her. Crude tiny microscopic cells invaded her body, overnight. Colonies took abode in her lungs, left kidney and half a liver. Cancer .. the big C word ravaging the body , yet retaining the mind and soul.

They were one. A unit. In the summer of ’71. A pair of shiny Harley Davidson on route 66. Holding hands on an empty stretch before a setting sun. Wild hair, Indian shirts, leather gear. A strand of blond hair escaping the helmet..blowing in the wind.

Young and in love. They continued on that highway till the end. Till the Harleys become heavy with life’s responsibilities; children, a career, cash. They stored them in the shed under a tarp. Oiled and majestic yet in exile.

Their children became adults, got married, did all the proper things. Weddings, bells, cards, dresses, another stretch of the highway.

Old age creeped under the wooden blocks. Passed through thick socks and boots. Resided in cold chests under knitted sweaters. Separated them in bed, yet made the summer of ’71 more memorable.

The end came .. a pain in the arm, ache in the leg, a cough, fever. Reaper ready to sough the seed of life. The blonde hair became snow, the face shrinked, the smile didn’t fade.

The last kiss on a white starchy hospital bed. Under florescent lights. The same old thin lips. She battled silently with her eyes .. her books.. her silence and pride. She was his unknown legend.

Somewhere on a desert highway She rides a Harley-Davidson
Her long blonde hair
Flyin’ in the wind
She’s been runnin’ half her life
The chrome and steel she rides Collidin’ with
The very air she breathes
The air she breathes.

You know it ain’t easy
You got to hold on
She was an unknown legend
In her time

Unknown Legend – Neil Young

Fragment : The Girl Of His Dreams

She walks alone
From shore to shore
Twilight to dawn

She sits at a corner by the the window..
The girl of his dreams

One day he vows to save her.

Fragment #8 Burnin Love

A dark bar..wooden floors..Five slot machines in a dark corner next to the ladies washroom.

A man with blue glasses, baby blue frames..baby blue aviators ..in an Air Canada pilot uniform complete with a hat, and three stars on each shoulder.

“Elvis is alive”  he proclaims..no one raises their eyes. the old man still playing the machine, a youngish bald guy sipping a bloody Mary on the counter, me nursing a beer .. and our friend the pilot in the shadow proclaiming the immortal life of the Hunk of Burnin Love.

“I have evidence .. a watch”. A huge circular Coca Cola red wall watch .. with the picture of Elvis. A profile of Elvis in a white rhinestone suit..an angelic or prophetic image..

“He is alive” some crack a laugh.. the man leaves carrying the watch ..dragging the evidence of immortality and hops to the next bar.