31 – Imagine Babylon

 

Look at how easily you slipped into this Babylon of a city, with all of its lunacy and intransigence, the booze, the drugs, the sleaziness, the laziness, the divorces, the porno shops, the naked encounter parlors, the weird people wearing their weird clothes, driving their weird cars and cutting their hair in weird ways, Schmaltzing their way through each others night life as if they’re are all the best of friends, in the filthy air with its glossy foliage everywhere, and badly decorated interiors, and the restaurants and bars having the air of hollowness: like a slick movie set. It is a certain cheapness and trashiness which bothers me more than out and out evil. Like a music video which presents the promise of drugs sex an’ rock n’ roll – but which any one going there cannot handle too well – because.. well..-  because now It Is Really Happening To You… every one is living in Hollywood. Designer crime, cell phones, plastic sex to match the plastic cards…wishing it wuz reel It’s a fukken miracle..more so that I am alive to record the last days of Arm –a – geddon oud ov here

I always believe that if I keep sight of my own values – I can fight evil. But trashiness is insidious, slipping around one and slowly permeating the soul. I personally don wanna go there… not in that pig-swill. Might mess my clothes. Even worse. My mind! Then I gonna be real bad-ass crazee about getting you laid out all nice and sexy special like on a rail-road somewhere where you c’n kick ‘n scream until the steam train rolls over your sorry white trash arse.

Now you want to live your “Real” Life in this city, not running off to some distant star, like I am. And I never tried to coax you to come with me. Because you cannot go there. Not with me. You have no ability to deal with the exotic and the bizarre because it is not “Real”. You prefer the reality of the intended – with out going there your self.

You need: bonds, mortgages, appearances, overtaking the Jones’s, properties cars et al. Apart from the fact that you can drive fast but not well. Like to eat well but cannot cook.

But do it with someone who believes With You. You should have. I did tell you to do that. Didn’t I tell you to got do that? Didn’t I tell you that I am not that one for you? I told you that. You fought against it. Thought I would change for you… I love “My Version Of Life”.

Were you “My Version Of Life”? No!

 

 

You demonised me for not changing my dreams of what I want (and need most of all), to suit or include, or incorporate you and your life.

 

I had no choice but to get away.

Once again I Was Fled.

You See:

Sometimes we miss this important factor: the longer we have lived the wider our experiences have become, the more complicated our lives become, and eventually we are bound in so many interactions; a web of emotion and circumstance and event, that nothing is simple anymore and everything is subject to interpretation. Interpretation, however, is a waste of time.

I disguised my intelligence, which allowed me to manipulate my peers and, over time, my superiors. My insights into the intelligence of others, and the slickness of avoiding unpleasant situations were a conflict resolution technique, as well as a survival tactic.
But, at least, I developed such a flair while I was doing it.

Smoke and Mirrors.

The world is full of designs, patterns, coincidences and cycles that appear to indicate the existence of some magical power. And you might forget that these things are the result of subtle natural process.

Even the most logical interpretation is an attempt to bend mystery. To herd mystery into a cage and lock the door on it. It makes life no less mysterious. And it is equally pointless to seize upon patterns, to rely on them or to obey the mystical regulations they seem to imply.

So my one effective course against you was Entrenchment. I admitted to mystery and the incomprehensibility of my situation. But I had to shore up my web, clear it of blind corners, set alarms. I had to plan aggressively. In the beginning I had merely reacted to danger, without the forethought to challenge it. To survive, I had to become the monster of my own maze, as brutal and devious as the fate I sought to escape. It was a kind of militant acceptance that you practice without being aware of it.

Yes I can tell
Heaven from hell and Blue skies from pain
I can tell a green field from a cold steel rail
A smile from a veil
Yes I can tell

I was looking at you and I felt the pressure turn hard in my chest. I knew none of this was real to you. I had never been able to penetrate the screen that existed between you and the rest of the world. I felt the coldness filling me. A coldness that had nothing to do with sorrow.

It was hard not to run when I turned and left you.
I felt my breathing coming more freely…
…with each step I took.

Reaching for my dream…

Amado Mio, my Precious Star Fish, my thoughts, passion and desire that I lived through it all because of you. With my good Latino Lovergirl, with The One. With the Leading Lady, My dark haired Spanish dancer.

I looked at you and I will never forget what I saw, and exactly the way it was. Late sunlight made into lace by the bower of the tree outside your window clothed you:  you leaned one small hand flat on the ground; one slim supporting arm straight and straight down; your weight turned up that shoulder and your head tilted towards it as if drawn down by the heavy darkness of your hair. It gave a sense of yeilding, as if you were so fragile, which I knew you were not. Your other hand lay open across one knee, the palm up and the fingers not quite relaxed, as if they held something; and indeed they did, a spot of gold light, gold turned coral by the flesh of your hand, sunlight trapped in the palm of your hand. Just as I was trapped then, as all my life, by you.

For in my life time I had it all, each tiniest part, even to the soles of your feet I have touched, washed and kissed.

And I have known since then, since we were children, that life’s biggest moment, during the moment itself, a rarity in itself, and all times of life, it was a time to say the unforgettable, for any thing said in the “now” would be.

On the Tip of My Tongue:
There are things that I touch, that remind me of touching you: like the skin of a peach. And things that I smell. The fragrance of orange, freshly peeled – reminds me of your hands, still with the fragrance of freshly peeled orange, as they trembled and fluttered on your stomach, the first time that I ever kissed and ate your cunt. Every cunt I have ever eaten on a first time has recalled for me that first time with you on an afternoon – after school… all day all night / Magarite…Down on the bed spread / singing sweet

Also freshly cut grass…and small floral print fabrics with the color green. You had a dress that you had made which was green with small purple flowers. The Simon and Garfunkel song: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme: always reminds me of you in that green dress. You were wearing it one afternoon, as we sat out on the small lawn outside your bedroom window. The green hibiscus hedge behind us, the green smell of freshly cut lawn on a hot afternoon.

Bright dancing sun in your dark tresses as you brushed out your freshly washed hair. I was watching the red-gold sparkle shimmering along the high-light spots… the sight of your school-girl breasts moving beneath the thin fabric of that green dress, comes to me any time I see breasts moving beneath such a thin film and the dappled light on one smooth thigh….and see your face again in my minds eye. The lift of your eye brow. The lilt of your voice. The corner of your mouth…I tilt mine to the right, you to the left. My beautiful mirror of my love for you…

I cannot recall our conversation entirely, I was getting ready to go to the army. It may have even been just as I was planning to leave for South Africa. Carissima, I was watching the sun play on your thighs and I was vaguely aware that that they were slowly drifting apart… until I was looking at the delicate pink coral diamond of that inviting schoolgirl slit nestling in its newly flourishing black velvet frame.

And I looked up in surprise at you as I realized that we had stopped talking for some time, and you had been watching me with some amusement, at what you had been doing to mesmerise me… you had sat there advertising the absence of your panties, and as your eyes met mine,  you were laughing gaily and saying how you knew how to get my “complete attention”.

Small floral print fabrics with the color green always remind me of the breathless occasions that I had lifted that dress off you, drawing it up over your head, pulling you against me…

Swim Suit Paradise:
Every yellow swimsuit recalls for me, your beautiful behind as I watched it flex and move – you tending your pot plants and herb bed. I watched with secret admiration and awe from behind my sunglasses. Secretly wanting you – were it not for such memories prompted.

– your blue swimsuit…about 2 sizes too small – you were growing in all of those places… Taking you with me to the shower block.  there in the heat of the day to have a shower with you…I love the beach. And full swimsuits. And peeling off swim suits. Always reminds me of you….

I might mislay things. But I have not forgotten you. I cannot forget anything in my life.
It seems to go on for ever. Memories. Some do not even fade.

To lie upon the earth and root
Your pulse my pulse

To see the druid moon and light
Your eyes my eyes
To cultivate the flesh and grow
Your skin my skin
To trace the smile and water
Your soul my soul
To hold the day today and life
Your love my love

My Inspiration to Please:
I always wanted you to know: that nothing feeds my soul, like feeling a woman melt. The greatest thrill is not in loosing myself, but in my inducing abandon in her. To take her to the peak of pleasure, To see her forsake her control. To see her hovering between ecstasy and despair. To hear her plead…To love her pleading…
And to want. To please..

And because that is what I had always wanted with you, I practiced it all my life with all…you, my beautiful…

I decided that I would practice my art and science on all of women, as if they were all you just one. Obsession? Perhaps…we all have to have our Dreams. You were mine

“Thou Shalt Have no Science Before me”, you proclaimed after every orgasm…

Domination by breathless consent.

Any fool can bend another, by force or payment… but to make a woman beg me to do as I am already pleased to do, to have her offer herself up and keep her as long as I might wish – now that is worth going to bed for.

To overcome her pain and bring her to a celebration of her abandonment, that, truly, is a triumph of lasting splendor. For she will always remember that first sigh. In a way, who ever can do that for a woman will own a part of her life. Forever.

But I have arrived at the conclusion that the reverse is also true. For much as I have wanted that with You, you have surely inhabited my thoughts and swum in the warm oceans of my Emerald Dreams. Never a day has passed without you. Condemned as I was to a life of yearning. For the smell of your skin, the touch of your hands. I am imprisoned by my memory of you. Desire for you.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
     Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
     She once was a true love of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
    / A hill in the deep forest green
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
    / War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions
Without no seams nor needle work,
    / A soldier cleans and polishes a gun
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
    / Sleeps unaware of the clarion call…

Taedium Vitae

the weariness of life.

PROBABLY   NEVER
PROBABILITY = 0.95