Journal of the Gypsy Rose and Other Unrelated Affairs

Volume 2 of 8 in the series of poetry “Songs for Michael” by Gay A. Wright

Published by Golden Age Word Publications 1991 This work is copyrighted and carries an ISBN number

Poems for the Michaels in my life

Some that broke my heart

Some that inspired deep love

And others that passed

Through my life treading a path

On my heart that were not even

Michael by name

Chapter One – the Gypsy Rose and the Michael Lover Tree

April 1990

The Gypsy Rose

The woman waited for her lover

As she walked along the edge of the shore

Her feet made soft prints in the wet sand.

The moon shimmered in her long flowing hair

That cascaded down her back gently

Wafting behind her in the soft breeze.

Dressed in the full maturity of her years

Her vitality radiated through out her whole being.

He face occupied by knowing blue eyes

Her body graced by flowing energy,

Lithe and smooth marked only with the kiss

Of the gypsy rose on her hip, an addition to her skin

Made as a choice of momentary madness in her past.

As her thoughts transcended beyond the present moment

Into a possible future, she considered the notion

That she had full control of her own reality

And smiled softly at how she would make

It a positive action of her current time frame.

For when her lover came to her they would not

Have to part and leave her to walk on the beach alone,

But instead, together they would make twin tracks

In the moons light along the edge of eternity.

April 1990

The Michael Lover Tree

In the twilight hour in the last year of my marriage

Two friends came to me on Xmas eve

Baron Michael and Jeanie both creative artists

And lifted me out of the bottomless gutter

Of my depression simply by stating

“There are friends out there that like you”.

By Easter the friendship grew and awakened

The fires of passion long thought dead.

This overwhelmed the Baron Michael

And he retreated from reality

Behind his own creativity and

Closed the door to his ivory tower

“Baron Michael Von Cynic the third was not at home”.

Summer winds blew in Michael the Younger

Intently passionate and virile while half my age

We made up for the barren years in one year six,

But his dark side was as intently abusive

As his good side was attentive and loving.

“Thank God his took his fickle immaturity elsewhere”.

Then came a time of freedom of choice

An interlude of lovers, not by the name Michael,

Who graced me with growth of expression,

Each unique in being, sharing special treasured moments.

Memories to be bottle for future reference and savoring,

The infinite variety almost staggers the mind,

“They were all loved well and returned unharmed to the world”.

John the Good, was a nomad by heart

And was sent to me by a friend and wise sage

Who saw what my life needed at that time.

John pitched his tent in my life and took up the labors

Of building my house and shared the pain of blazing fiery defeat

When it burned then reaped the fruit of rebuilt comfort.

“He gave me a piece of his rock to lean on”.

John the Energizer, my Aries friend

Sat quietly in the background of my mind

And waited until I was ready to receive him.

Then he touched me with his powerful body and spirit.

He showed me how to open the door to my flowing energy

Awakened in me control and unconditional love.

“He taught me hard lessons of love and healing”.

April 1990

Enigmatic Man

Where are you

Faceless man with

Large looping letters

In your name?

Foretold to me in the cards

By a gifted seer.

I look for you

On every path I trod

And in each face I meet.

Are you camouflaged so well

By unexpected traits?

My perfect man

With respect and devotion

The companion of my

Golden years,

My friend of all ages past

Are you there?

Are there signals you have

Tried to send through

The fog of my clouded vision?

Touch me but once

So I can clearly see

Who you are awaiting before me.

Chapter Two - John the Nomad

Aug 1989

Possibly

There is not a thing about Joh

I could possibly write about

As poetry material he certainly is not

But, John is stable.

This is not a thing about John

I could possibly write about

He doesn’t move me with fiery passion

But, John is true.

There is not a thing about John

I could possibly write about

He may not be the most motivated man

But, John takes good care of me.

There is not a thing about John

I could possibly write about

He has his faults he may never improve on

But, John stood by me in time of need.

Maybe,

There are a few things

About John

I could possibly write about.

Jan 1990

The Good Deal

We struck a bargain

John and I

His to build me a house

Mine to provide him a place.

We lived in the same space

John and I

It was good, warm and safe

A gentle rut of quietness.

We both had our own motives

John and I

His was convenience and comfort

Mine was love and free labor

We shared six years of time

John and I

Till interfering forces changed it

And the labor was finished

So we went our separate ways

John and I

His to new relationships

Mine to live in the house John built.

We parted as friends

John and I

With good memories and few regrets

To remember, until the “Next Deal”.

January 1990

John Moved the First Part of January

John fell in love and moved on in his life

And left this big hole in mine, so big

I get a headache just looking into it

And it makes my stomach quiver with nausea.

I still have everything in my life

And now I have this hole I’m looking into.

How do I take the life shifting shovel

And start filling in the empty areas?

Work goes on and decisions are made

But, still I have this hole I’m looking into

Waves of loneliness plague my footsteps

A hollowness forgotten during the full years.

This ache is fresh as I write, tears not dried

Maybe this hole I’m looking into will shrink

As life goes on and the rain filled dreary winter

Turns slowly into spring and new future sharing.

As the days pass and the nights give way to each dawn

I begin chuck things into this hole in my life

I rearranged the furniture, shampooed John’s chair

Changed the bedclothes and put his pillow in the closet.

I spread out my things on the dresser, moved into the middle

Of the bed and his space went into the hole.

Followed by daily adjustments of attitude and close behind

The dressings of naturally healing wounds.

Enlightened by the knowledge revealed by the stars

Compacts more stuff into the dwindling hole

The Universe only gave us custody of seven years to share

Before Uranus went direct and passed into Capricorn.

As the moving planets in my chart change, so does lilfe.

The final regrets cast into this hole fill it up.

Till only a depression remains. John went out a better man

Putting his postscript on the top edge of the scar.

He would say. “There are no bad deals’.

Oct 1990

(John commented on his girlfriend’s remark about our continuing friendship) to which I replied:

Your New Love

Your new love seems to be bothered

By my presence. Jealous, perhaps,

Because of the lack of being able to put

A name on our continuing relationship.

We shared a life, now we share a friendship

One that endures the test of many past lives.

For we have been tied together by the threads of

Caring and being cared for by each other.

I once made a place for you by the sea

And died in your arms, so now our unfinished

Karma touches again. Death can not separate

Connected souls from each others’ lifetimes.

The bonds are stronger that the physical times

We have walked the earth together. So, here we are,

Doing it again, same song second verse,

Or is it the third or forth life by now?

I’ve lost track of timelessness.

Tell her not to be concerned

For I am not a threat to her world

And if she says you act differently after you’ve

Been in my company, you should.

For when the Earth Mother has touched

One of her own with her tuning fork

They vibrate at a different resonance.

Because they are once again in complete

Harmony and alignment with the Universe.

Chapter Three – My Aries Friend and frequent Lover

February 1990 My Aries friend enters my life

WHY ARE YOU THERE?

You left your card stuck in the screen door of my life

I was glad you came by, but I was elsewhere at the time.

You called again, but I wasn’t tuned in to your message,

I was still dealing with the hurts of my recently vacated lover.

You re-entered my life quietly, and I was so delighted

To see a friend that I didn’t ask why you were there.

You found me floundering in my independence

Desperately in need of support and a shoulder to lean on

You gently stroked my ego and bolstered up my soul

With your great strength of character.

I looked to you as someone I could talk to and still

I didn’t ask you why you were there.

As I re-organized my life, I found you were there to listen to my plans

And thoughts and to the events that had transpired.

We talked on the phone a lot and saw each other

When we could and still I didn’t ask you why you were there.

You finally got my attention by lighting a fire under my feet

And sending a burning energy bolt through my heart

Am I correctly reading the message of the energy lesson,

When you filled me with the light of the Universe

Or am I only writing it as an illusion for myself?

Are you waiting there to be with me?

Are you waiting there to love me and be loved by me?

Are you offering to share the future with me?

If that is why you are there, can I move out of

The middle of my bed of solitude I’ve made

By the prospect of shared intentions?

Can I rearrange my life to fit two?

Can I care for you the way you would like?

Can I love you and bring you joy and happiness?

I can, in a heartbeat, Babe

March 1990

The Perfect Man

While lying in his arms,

I was trying to express to John, the energizer

My Aries friend and frequent lover,

The qualities I desired in the perfect man.

One that would be a pleasure to be around and burden free

One that would respect my independent nature

One that would give support and comfort during distressing times

One that was sensitive to my moods and needs

One that head by thought that he was desired and needed then be there

One that after fulfilling that need would return back to his home

One that had great cosmic energy, strength of soul and hairy buns

He listened intently throughout, then replied:

‘Do you know anyone like that?’

I looked and discovered he was lying in my arms,

Subject to availability

April 1990

The Energy Lesson

He took me in is arms,

Completely encasing me in his aura

Then gently laid me down and shared

An incredible experience with me.

His power of love expanded filling the room

And we explored the realms of vibrating energy.

Slowly his kissed me and ran his hands down my body.

He stroked my space with his energy force

From my shoulders down my arms and out the ends

Of my fingers pulling the white light with him

Then returning it to me combined with his.

Our entwined energies swirled and rotated higher and higher

On waves of spiraling dual ecstasy and beams of light

Placing my hands on his chest the electricity between us raised

Me above him. I floated inches above him joined by only the threads of pulsating

Flashes of light reaching the perfect orgasm in the high state of AM.

He gathered together all the power with a wave of his arm

And presented it to me in a chalice of golden light

Trusting I would hold on and treasure it.

But, like an eager child with a new found toy

I thrashed the energy about until I was depleted

And shrunken like a prune

Showing his wisdom he came forth, smiling knowingly

He restored my strength and recharged my soul.

“On your way home next time”, he said, “don’t zap all the

Cars off the freeway with your projected energy.”

May 1990

To My Aries Friend

It’s nice to know

What you want from me

I’m willing to give.

I give you my hand in

Devoted friendship

Spiritually enriched

I give you my thoughts

An openness to really say

What’s on my mind and

Have you accept it.

I give you my body

To share the joys of

Physical expression in a

True bonding of attunement.

I give you my heart

To hold close and cradle

In your vibrating energy

Of unconditional love.

While you, in return, willingly

Give to me the same things

I want from you.

May 1990

Electric Dreams

You are the counterpart

The Yang to my Yin

The flame that inspires

Etheric electric dreams

My Aries of cardinal fire.

I am your Yin

The dreamer that calms

Your fiery soul with the

Waves of my eternal sea.

Your Pisces of mutable water.

We make a complete dual force

Linked together by cosmic unity

We balance each others polarities

And raise each other to the

Highest levels of physical purpose.

May 1990

The Time to Know

When I asked you, ‘Who are you in my life?’

You said, “When the time comes, you’ll know.”

Should I ask, ‘Who do I want you to be?’

Or better still, “Who do you want to be in my life?”

I have just realized what I have known for a

Long time under the surface of my inner mind.

Just out of reach of my conscious intention.

It suddenly materialized before my eyes.

Reading like the handwriting on the wall

You have been waiting for my psyche to clear

In order to shift the pieces in the puzzle of life

To match the oncoming pattern of our destinies.

You are my future life, my inevitable mate

You are my ideal knight, the man of my golden years

You already are my perfect lover, my soul’s twin flame

For I now know what you have been waiting for me to find

Llying on the bottom of my mind.

Considering we make our own realities and

You are over there and I am over here

I think the better reality would be for the both of us

To be in the same one together,

Instead of living in alternate nows.

It will be interesting to experience just how

We are going to make this happen.

It didn’t happen. The Universe had other plans for me and only allowed me to wet my appetite for the energy of the higher realms.

My Aries friend faded from my life, going on to other afternoon delights and back home to his wife.

August 29, 1990 When we could visit we enjoyed the privacy of

HIGH TEA

It’s four o’clock. I beckon you to come

It’s time to have high tea with me

Followed by love in the afternoon

In our special garden of fantasy

Regular people choose to wait

Until past the late evening hour of midnight

But that’s not for us, the finest hour

Comes early while the sun still has it’s light

When the shadows have not yet

Become long and narrow and the birds

Have not selected their nighttime roost

We embrace an interlude of unique moments

Four o’clock is a specially chosen interval

Filled with tranquil music, tangible sounds

Receptive to body movements sharing romance

A focused point of space totally spellbound

Holding the hands of time still long enough

To charge it with passionate vibrations

We’re surrounded by crystal power energy

As we dream by the shore of my amethyst sea.

September 4, 1990 In one of our many phone calls my Aries friend asked if I was

HAPPY

You asked me

If I am happy,

My reply is yes,

When I am with you.

How do I describe Happy?

Harmony

Always

Pleasure

Peace

You.

You bring my world into Harmony

Because you know how to love me always

You are the source of my pleasure

You give my heart peace

The center of my universe is you

Only one more thing would complete

My happiness in this world

That is to be with you for the

Rest of our lives as married partners,

And share with you all the happiness

We can bring each other on this physical level,

That we already know on the

Spiritual planes of existence.

My happiness would be completely

Un-measurable by mortal standards.

As I said before, this didn’t happen. I was only dreaming and it was a harsh reality when I woke up from the dream and found it was a nightmare in sheep clothing

October 14 1990 My Aries friend was not much on

CAMPING

We went camping

So far out in the hills where only

The coyote and mountain lion

Still roam in the quiet of the night

We bedded on the edge of the world

And touched the stars with our heads,

Leaving civilization behind the moon

To experience nature in the quiet of the night

Purrrr……

Oh, Baby, you’re tickling my toes gain.

Purrrr …..

Oh, Baby, you’re licking my face again

Purrrr….

Oh, Baby, you’re breathing in my ear again……

“That’s not me, Honey,

I’m up here on the top of the truck.”

November 24, 1990 My Aries friend and I ebbed and flowed with each other,

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

I acknowledge you for the space you give me

To interact with the people I meet in my life.

It is very important to me to flow in and out

Of new experiences without the holds of jealously

I have your love with me to jointly go forth

And share together in all the encounters I have.

Our souls are wrapped around each other in a

Solid bonded union of powerful spiritual alloys

I can face the greater and lesser resistances

In life for I carry your essence always by my side.

You give me the courage to stand erect and make

A silent statement as I enter the world around me.

I feel fulfilled and share the joy of our being as one

When I meet in the company of other humanity.

I am not alone when I sit with those around me,

Because I have the support and comfort of your love

I can soothe the troubled vibrations in the hearts that

Are aching by radiating the serenity of our devotion.

I love you and acknowledge you for the magnificent

Soul you are by understanding how important it is for

Me to freely roam and express myself in my life.

I am honored to be loved by you and cherish you

Beyond all means that are given to me to express that love.

June 1990

Flight Of Aries

I do not leash thee

Or cuff on they ankle put

Nor holds or bars behind

From which to look

The cost to be shackle free

Comes, high, physical freedom

The kind you need

For you to be thee

No holds on you, not the

Boundaries or the castle walls made

Or the staked out places

Nor restrictions or rules laid.

So roam in my space

And flow in and out

Of my life and I will

Not put the burden bout

Only micro cosmic stands

Of love line us feely

To the Universe and tie the energies

We give with the flex of elasticity

The light energy we use

Merges sounds and color flowing

Together to swing us in harmony

Throughout all eternity

June 1990

Thoughts

I laid in the quiet of the afternoon

And pulled a nearly perfect thought

Form of you gently into my mind

I paused, as the image wavered, then

Straightened it slightly and adjusted

Its lines into exact dimensions.

Because we generate physical form

Out of our individual thoughts

I am re-creating you

Into my reality of the moment.

How you feel when you hold me

Completely surrounding me with energy

How you look at me when we’re close

Intensely focused with our reality

How your sound vibrates when you

Whisper softly in my ear

How you smell of the sea, sun and earth

Nestling against your skin and hair

How you taste so sweet and pure

Tingling of clover and spices

How you constitute all of natures impeccable design.

It’s so easy to shape these patterns into form

For you’re always there surrounding me

With your spiritual essence

Enveloping me with the vibrant

Energy of your whole being

Wrapping me in the cloak of your soul

Sheathing me in your white light

Living me with the purest of emotion

That of Universal oneness.

So I stayed with the perfect essence of you

Content with the flawless imagery I projected

As I laid in the quiet of the afternoon.

Jan 1991

My Aries friend and I seemed to connect on many levels, even while

STILL SLEEPING

I awaken to the silence of awareness

In the state of still sleeping

You are here with me

I’m alone, yet I feel you in the darkness

We are In a quiet strange place.

Where am I?

I’m with you in the regions of space,

Yet caught in the wistful state of still sleeping

I hear your slow rhythmic breathing,

Across the covers of time your arm

Extends over my chest and your hand

Gently caresses my soul with a loving sensation,

Common in the waking world, but not always felt

With such cosmic acuteness

In the dreamy state of still sleeping

In a natural response, I reached out in return

To acknowledge the contentment we shared

And touched your head with my hand

Slowly I ran my fingers through your hair

Like you were really there

Feeling every strand soft and fine

Reassuring your etheric presence

Being fully enveloped with your love

In the awareness state of still sleeping

May 1990

The Wreck

You have completely overwhelmed me

And thrown me out of whack.

You have shattered all the concepts

Of my independent nature

It’s so easy to revolve your world

Around a unit of one

But when another presents himself

And makes a mark so profoundly as you did

You have completely overwhelmed me

And thrown me out of whack.

It would be so easy to fall in love with you

But that causes a screech of brakes and

An immediate regrouping

You have completely overwhelmed me

And thrown me out of whack.

Analyze all systems

Reschedule life’s possibilities

Re-shift attitudes

Re-think commitment choices

Is it possible that you are

Having the same train wreck

On the same track

At the same place

Within the same time frame as I?

You have completely overwhelmed me

And thrown me out of whack.

I was in love with the illusion I made of him. I went on to write other poems and eventually stabbed him several times with my poison pen when he became involved with my girlfriend, (the eternal triangle).

I was so in love I laid my heart out there so far and unprotected it suffered terribly before I could rescue it from complete destruction. All of this was part of the plan the Universe had for honing me into the resilient Dragoness Queen I would become.

The rest of the volumes have poems dealing with our relationship even as I was unfolding spiritually through out this process. I will never know really how he felt about our affair. He may have been just using me for a thrill to fulfill his Scorpio nature, to which I was a willing participant. I would not have traded the experience for anything in this world or any other.

Someone said once, there are no victims, only volunteers. How true.

Chapter 4 The Computer Wizard

(who is still my friend to this day)

April 1990

Lann -- the Computer Wizard

You eased into my space

A byte at a time

Not realizing the potential

Megahertz speed built on your board

When I turned around

I encountered your hard drive

Packed on a large mainframe

With plenty of ram

Made me want to give up

Floppy drives forever.

Now that you are here

How can I configure your sys.

To integrate with my

Basic program?

May 1990

The State of our Affair

I saw you falter and step back today

Over the state of our affair.

So, I feel I need to clear the air

And reassure you by stating my position.

I like you a lot, but I’m not in love with you.

I enjoy your company, but I don’t want you

Permanently adhered to my space.

I want to share experiences

But not completely stifle each other

I want to be comfortable with you and be able

For us to spit out what’s on our minds and resolve it

I want to get to know you and give our

Friendship time to grow before

We decide what direction it is taking us.

I want to be spiritually free o ebb and flow

And physically build a foundation of trust and understanding

I want positive energy to permeate all corners of our lives

And take us wherever the two of us decide it will

Sure I want you to be someone special in my life,

However, foremost I want you to be my trusted friend.

That happened and is still honored mutually to this day. Even though he went through and managed to out live the spell of my girlfriend, who at the time he fell madly in love with. That came to a screeching halt with the next poetic encounter.

July 1990 My Computer Wizard almost burned our friendship over a tryst with my girlfriend

THE FLAME

The day I introduced you to the goddess on the pedestal

Is the day you faltered and stepped back from our affair

Lamely giving excuses about needing the regain religion

And how you still were suffering from your last misfortune.

I was hurt by your actions, but tried to be supportive

Of you and remain objective about the whole scenario.

The truth has since come back to haunt you,

For I have put the curios puzzle pieces together

And have seen through the half-truths of your intentions.

Can you ever forgive yourself for lusting after my girlfriend

You can’t burn the candle at both ends

Without extinguishing the wick of friendship

You did me a favor by striking the match and revealing

Your disgraceful nature in the flickering flame

The encounter they had at dinner snuffed out that flame in a hurry with flying forks and knives.

Have to tell you the Universe always provides…….what we least expect

July 1990

The Duel over Salad

Across from each other at the table they sat

Rather like the gingham dog and the calico cat

The tension building higher by the minute.

While, I, in the middle calmly addressed my salad.

With sword and shield in hand they glared at each other

Looking at each ones image mirrored in the others face

They circled, stalked and pried each other with verbal lashes

While, I, in the middle calmly put mayonnaise on my salad.

‘You’re playing mind games,’ snapped one, take that, Parry, Thrust.

Went the swords across the condiments on the table.

Dishes rattled and shook as the battle proceeded with gusto.

While, I, in the middle calmly ate my salad.

“Mind games, huh?” retorted the other. Parry, Thrust! again.

I reached in and rescued the salt and pepper shakers.

“Not me, you analytical wizard”, as she zapped him once more.

While, I, in the middle calmly salted my salad.

These two, my friends, one madly in love with

The goddess on the pedestal and she, defending

Her pedestal from the dragon of mankind.

While, I, in the middle watched them over my salad.

Both were sharing twin pain and agony carried over

From past relationships, using it as ammunition

On each other. What an arsenal they carried.

While, I, in the middle calmly finished my salad.

They were setting up perimeters around their spaces.

Don’t cross the line; parry and thrust, job and twist,

Dodge and lunge. The table was getting battle scarred.

While, I, in the middle started to get indigestion.

Touche, she drew blood by the first button on his shirt

His heart breaking as the image he had of her shattered.

Her heart icing over with the threat of invading barbarians.

While, I, in the middle waved time out with my salad fork.

“It’s time to quit dueling each other”, I said, “because you

Are only mad at your own selves and the fight is with your

Own issues, which each of you see reflected in each other”.

While, I, in the middle calmly sat back down by my salad.

Amazed t me, they looked at how they were building barriers

Between their friendship and put down the swords and shields

Of the physiological war, called a truce and shook hands.

While, I, in the middle silently applauded them.

Then we finally went on with the rest of dinner.

I still had two good friends and were still friends with each other

And most of all they had worked out their differing opinions.

While, I, in the middle was glad we were the friends we came in as.

Chapter Five: Rex, the King

Rex Golston is a magical percussionist musician, sensual avatar wizard, massage therapist, lover and most of all friend, who was sent by the Universe to explore the possibilities of this reality and play music for me to open up the doors to his magical realm of being-ness in unconditional love

May 1990

The Magic Moment

You got me on your wave length

Even before you knelt by my chair.

You reached into my space and

Helped yourself to my chips and dip

As I offered you my glass of coke

I fell into the depths of your crystal blue eyes.

The encounter was brief, but etched forever

On my mind with intense energy.

As you left, you kissed my hand with your touch

And my soul followed you off into infinity.

May 1990

The King and I

When I finally caught up with you

Somewhere between Austin and Brazil

You were standing in leather sandals

And a brightly flowered shirt.

Your tall, strong lean body framed

Against the orange and mauve sunset.

Your curly hair touched by a twinge

Of gray gently curled against the

Temples of your soul and around your

Keen blue eyes that radiated

The same hues as the evening sky.

My senses were awe struck by your

Complete sensuality.

When I finally caught up with you

Somewhere between Austin and Brazil

You were bedecked with bells, drums,

Gongs, chimes and flutes.

Earthly instruments you used to

Translate the rhythms of the

Celestial music that surrounded you.

Your embrace drew me into

The center of your vitality

My space overflowed with your calming spirit

My senses were awe struck by your

Complete sensuality.

When I finally caught up with you

Somewhere between Austin and Brazil

Your whole being-ness wrapped around me

And we transcended beyond the

Physical level as you made a safe harbor of

Loving solitude to share together.

You came to explore the possibilities

Of this reality with me and told me

That being with me was a reward for

Something nice you did at one time.

I can’t believe you have ever done anything

But nice in any of your earthly treks.

My senses were awe struck by your

Complete sensuality

When I finally caught up with you

Somewhere between Austin and Brazil

I sat with you and shared the

Passionate music of your soul.

A private performance raising the

Quality of purpose between the

Pages of mundane actuality.

The undulating melodies soothed

The most savage parts of me.

Pulsating patterns of sound and light

Interlaced with kaleidoscopic

Astral colors danced before my eyes.

I had completed a full circle of former lives

And was back at the beginning with you again,

Ready to accompany you this time

On the next journey into infinity.

My senses will always be awe struck by your

Complete sensuality

The time has not come yet for the next journey to begin, but when it does, I will be ready to accompany this sweet soul off into infinity.

May 1990

Gypsy Rose and the King share a

Banquet of Infinity

“I heard your poetry on the wind”, he said,

“It has beckoned to me from afar

And I have come to be of service to you, Madame”.

“Come sit with me”, she said, “in the quietude

Of my garden, under the shade of my trees”.

She had spread a banquet before her on a blanket

And said, “Please Sir, come and partake of my fine cuisine”.

Oranges from across the China sea, fine French wines,

Delicate tidbits of Indian flavor, mangos, soft spice cakes

And sweetmeats made from nature’s nectar.

The afternoon sun streamed through the branches

Of the trees making lacy patterns on the ground

From the fluttering leaves above them

He reached beneath his cloak and drew forth a

Flute of the finest tone and serenaded her with

Exquisite melodies of unending variety.

Drawn together by the etheric music he made

Sound gently wafting through the rustling leaves

The two spent a timeless ecstasy

Feasting far into the late evening.

He reached over and took her hand,

One that he had kissed before with his touch

And gazed longingly into her misty blue eyes.

He delicately touched her lips with his

And presented his undying love for her

By displaying his heart on his sleeve.

Thus they had met, in many lifetimes before,

For countless ages past and had partaken of the feast of nature.

Spread out on the blanket of timeless reality

Splendor on the grass placed under the eternal stars

Close to the center of the soul.

May 1990

Sometime Past Midnight

Your spirit announced

You’re coming by arriving

Two hours before you

Physically appeared.

Making a grand entrance

A tall, full bodied shadow

Of tangible air gliding

Past my window into the room

It awakened me with a

Quiver of delight.

I said, “I know you are here’”,

I reached out and drew it forth

And we lay patiently waiting

For your body to follow.

You came sometime past midnight

Quietly through the back door.

You were seeking your spirit self

And found us wrapped

Together in a snug cocoon.

I said, “I know that you are here,

For your soul has preceded you

And we have only been dreaming”.

You slid in between us, merging

We three together into a

Bonded union completely

Fulfilling all my sexual

Earthly expectations

Since the dawn of time.

January 9, 1991

Rex was a sensitive man who was always at service to me and soothed me with a great massage

THE PERFECT DREAM

I had a day that was less that positive.

It followed a week of nightmare circumstances

That seemed to be built by meddling hands

Of unseen faces rather than myself.

I was dragging this scenario behind me,

Or maybe I was pushing it up the trench I was

Digging ahead of me, I’m not sure which now.

In any case I put the desire out to the Universe

That I needed to be stroked pampered and healed.

It only took one phone call to my druid friend.

I actually found him home and asked,

“Hi! What’s for dinner? Is there a vacancy sign

On your massage table? You say, Yes? Oh, good,

Hold that pose, I’m on my way.”

I followed the light he beamed up and he reeled me into

A Perfect Dream

As I drove up to his house, tinkling melodies of wind chimes

Hanging from the trees marked my path to his door.

I was met by a smile and a bow. He said,

“I’m here to be of service to you, Madame.”

He went ahead of me weaving a magic spell through the air

With a burning wand of delightfully scented rare eastern incense.

We sat and ate dinner of veggies and rice among

He collection of his drums, gongs, bells and other

Bazaar things, listened to his latest recorded music

And stroked his cat, Isis. He then told me he had

Drawn me a bath spiced with delicate oils of wintergreen

And jasmine. I was directed down the hall with a fluffy

Towel and robe to the steamy bathroom to immerse.

I lounged in the mist and soaked up to my neck

In candle lit splendor. He tended to my every need,

Scrubbed my back and massaged my hands and feet

Among the exotic fragrant bubbles until I was thoroughly limpid.

I rose and folded the robe around my prune marked fingers and toes

While he guided me to the next room that was enveloped

With Persian trappings draped ceiling to floor.

As I lay covered in soft sheets on the massage table,

I was aware of the softly lit tapestries and unusual wall hangings.

Reminded me of being in a Sheik’s tent somewhere in the desert.

Slowly I felt the tension start to subside into tranquil bliss.

I was oiled with frankincense, sassafras and other exotic herbs.

His magic touch indulged, stroked, kneaded, plied, rolled,

Rubbed, rocked and caressed over every inch of my body from

The top of my head to the very bottom under my toes

I traveled further and further into the far reaches of space.

I lolled and drifted in the serenity of nothingness while

Every sinew of my body remained in suspended animation.

After an eternity of internal visions, multi-flowing colors,

Drifting patterns, ethereal pictures and intense awareness

On higher cosmic planes of existence I was returned

To earth by a gentle squeeze on the toe by my faithful guardian.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him.

‘Over, so soon? How can I drive home like this’, I thought?

Worry not, he tenderly drew me up and I sat limp as wilted lettuce.

I was rolled off the table and was softly received by

The waiting cool quilted bed covers and he tucked me in.

I watched as he covered the massage table with a blue satin

cloth and filled it up brass Tibetan bowls.

He began to serenade me with wafting sounds of

Bells, brass bowls, chimes and gongs and other things

As I gazed through half closed eyes he lovingly lifted

Each one in turn and coaxed it to sing sweetly in the darkness.

The sounds vibrated in my head and echoed pleasantly

Throughout my body as I drifted contentedly off to sleep.

Sometime past midnight, as he had done before, he slid in

Between my soul and I and nestled and cradled me in the

Warmth of his great soul body the rest of the night

In the early morning before the moon set silently over the

Western rim my goddess sent my restored vitality up through

The depths of the Earth and bestowed her sensual blessings

On my watchful nighttime protector.

We have met in other lifetimes and have been of service to each

Other in many ways before, but never as wonderful and

Nurturing as my wounded soul needed to be touched at that moment.

I was received and every need was met

And cared for by my truly devoted friend, Rex.

I acknowledge this free spirit, the King

That I dearly love unconditionally in this life

And constantly for all of our lives, my friend,

Through out all of time yet to be experienced.

The only earthly flaw I saw in Rex was that he operated on Cosmic time. That is no time at all. He never wore a watch and if he did it would have no face or hand.s. He was never on time for anything which at times was frustrating.

June 1990

Punctuality

Sometime past midnight

Was fun once.

But, let’s try something

A little earlier next time,

Say, seven or eight,

When the body is still

Responding to stimuli.

You’ve been on your

Way for awhile,

Really since last Tuesday

And I’m glad I remembered

To breathe during the duration,

Or I would have passed out

Cold by Thursday noon.

Just because you have an

Artists’ habits and disorder

Is written all over your Astral chart

Is not to mean they need to

Be applied so literally.

Free choice and a watch would

Make you more punctual

And me, Miss Congeniality.

There are a few more references to Rex in upcoming poetry, but it was time for him to bow out of my life. He moved to Tuson, Ariz and met the woman he had been waiting for all his life and hopefully lives there happily ever after. He deserves it. I probably will never really know as that is another reality and not mine.

Chapter Six: Bob and John

Bob was a contractor friend, another karmic star attraction and John a fellow poet and practicing pagan

Both were fun, witty, interesting men, but never lovers.

May 1990

In Regards to Bob

I’ve known you for many years

But lovers we have never been

The times my lover’s ship came in

You were always taking yours to the airport

We’re friends, sharing parallel live

Entwined with the same interests and work

I have complete respect and admiration for you as person

As a man, I have a deep physical desire for you

Do you think our twain shall ever meet?

But then, maybe, we shouldn’t complicate our

Friendship with such a trivial pursuit.

Oct 1 1990 Bob and I went to dinner and was sure

We would consider a little

TRIVIAL PURSUIT

I think I feel our twain coming soon,

I can almost forecast the event.

It’s just beyond the horizon,

In the hills following closely on the

Heels of dinner and the show we shared.

It seems your love has recently left

With a one way plane ticket to separation,

And mine is circling in limbo, floundering

Aboard a boat of his unresolved circumstances.

We were sitting with thighs of jeans and silk

Bonded hot and close, not just touching casually,

But in a lengthy measured, well thought out

Maneuver done separately by the both of us.

Your thoughts I do not know, except the unspoken

Language seemed to indicate pleasure, for if you

Didn’t like it, you surely would have mover over.

There was plenty of room at the table and time to do so.

It was all I could do to keep my hand off your leg.

For I was seriously considering running my fingers

From your knee up to your pockets.

But, I was hesitant, lest I would scorch the fabric

With my electrified touch and start the game of

Trivial Pursuit

May 1990

John the Honored Subject of My Poetry

Upon sharing my writings, my personal

Loves and experiences expressed in verse

You were caught up in the spell of my sensuous poetry

Fantasizing the joyous pleasure of participation

You drew forth the drapes of my chamber

And threw the coat of your affection before me.

Asking to be the honored subject of my amours quill

You caught me by surprise that I had moved

Someone as much as this

But there you were, like Caesar before Cleopatra

Raising me high on the queenly throne

And stood waiting from me to peel you grapes.

Now, how do you reciprocate?

He did and I was overwhelmed with the erotic vision he wrote. ‘The Middle Woman’, which is published in the volume Goddess, Dragons and Warriors on another page. I was humbled by the experience and replied with the following entry

Feb 1991

Paper Flowers

You presented me with a handful of papers

As gallantly as you would have given me

A bouquet of red roses.

One time you requested to be honored by my

Written verse, to which I humorously replied

Then waited for your reciprocation.

So, now I stand graciously accepting crisp

White pages of vowel and consonant flowers

Acknowledging full well, it is I

Who is the most honored of your subjects, instead.

Chapter Seven: Other unrelated Affairs

June 6, 1990

This is what I did to make a living.. A job is what you do to make a living, a profession is what you like doing to make a living and get paid for it too.

ARTISTIC WALLS

I do walls

Wall art

Art smart

Smart paper

Paper colors

Colors paint

Paint float

Float mud

Mud texture

Texture hang

Hang Artistic

Artistic walls

Walls do I

Mar 1990

The Clan

When I came to Texas

I felt I came home.

Then I met the rest of my clan,

Friends from former lives.

We had sailed and wassailed in the past

Championed causes, loved and died for honor

Now we get together and share our poetry

Friends of present times.

March 1990

My poetry

I wrote my poetry

On scraps of paper

Wrapping and manila

Anything would do when the thoughts came

Then I entered it in a green

Notebook with spiral wire

So it was born in book form

With blank pages in the back for additions

I kept it on a book shelf

In my office with my other treasures

Books, records, photos, mementos

Of the special time I wanted to remember in my life

So, then it all burned in the

Fiery massacre of April 87

Along with my house and all my

Possessions and structures of my life.

What are these treasures of life anyway?

Expressions of intense emotional moments

Preserved artistically for lasting

Pleasure recorded carefully in paper and pen

Now, gone; a tearful memory

Added to all that was lost in the blaze.

One must go on and rebuild life and

Try and savor their reminiscences.

Then Lo! Arise the phoenix!!

Like the bird of old, out of the ashes

Rose as the remains were scooped

And hauled away, what’s this??

A twinge of green in the landscape

Of black, soggy rubble, peeking it

Showing of color through the burned

Ground like a new seed in spring

I jumped and ran to the spot

Elation in the midst of traumatized depression

Overjoyed with the recognition – this way my poetry!!

Reunited, I gently lifted the treasure to my breast.

Scorched and burned around the edges

And immeasurably scarred

But as the author, unbelievably

Still intact at the core of the soul.

June 1990

Memorial

I was moved to tears today

By the deep compassion and respect

Shown by all the people in Houston

For the memory of someone

Most of us didn’t even know.

A policeman was mortally shot yesterday

And all the traveling vehicles

Out shown the sun with a continues

Ribbon of headlights flowing

In mass down all of the roadways

As far as the eye could see

In all directions

Radiant beacons of prayer

Such a simple gesture renewed my faith

In the sensitivity of mankind

Written in memory of James Irby, Houston Motorcycle division

May 1990

Lunch Invitation for Tony

I have come out of your alternate future

Sensing your overwhelming crisis

And stand by your side while you are

In the depths of your current depressed state.

As a friend before once did for me

I am now doing for you.

I am offering you sanctuary of my peaceful porch

And solace in the garden of my serenity

To sit with me in conversation and lunch.

We’ll dine on soul food and comfort tea

Followed by desert of sympathy cakes.

A magical sharing wrapped in a blanket of my flowing energy.

A time to get you on my wave length to lift your spirit

And give you strength to resolve your present reality.

An interlude of quietude and healing to

Recharge your depleted vitality.

June 1990

A vision of me given by a gifted seer while I attended a social gathering

A Past Summer Night

The air on this summer night sears my throat

As you tell me about the horses with

Thundering hooves and flying tails.

My Indian ponies marked with painted signs

Stampeding rhythms across the fields of death

Plowing en mass into the village waterhole

With me, the Cherokee woman, dragged beneath them

Into the lake that turns to blood at sunset.

How eternal the memory that rides the wind

With the hawk and eagle and carries

My soul forever to the ends of the earth

For nothing else matters now, except in the past

As you tell me about the horses with

Thundering hooves and flying tails.

July 1990

The Purple Shroud

Every artist at one time or another

Experiences the soul wrenching feeling

Of their heart being torn out when one of

Their creations meet total destruction

By the hands of willful assassins.

I did, when death met me at the corner and beckoned

Me to the grave of one of my biggest wall murals

My debut offering to art when I arrived in 1982.

Life size painted figures of the old west on four interior

Walls in a small bar on Houston’s N. E. side.

Such thought forms of pure energy went into

Transforming drab wall into western scenes

Completely encircling the room with

Vivid sunsets, life size horses, people

And places of the early west.

Now I stood and looked at the grave site

It was dark, somber and pathetic

Painted over with a dull purple tone

With paper posters of Mexican figures

Tacked up here and there on the walls.

It’s Ok, you say, progress!

Looking at the tomb on an unwilling subject

My heart bled all over the floor

Showing purple droplets of agony and pain

Through the crimson rays of my anger.

No! its’ not ok!

How would they feel to have their

Artistic talents doomed by a painted shroud.

Their soul would feel ripped out, as mine is

By the sight of purple termination.

Aug 1990

The Pen

Poetry is a point of view

A way to put thoughts in written form

Away to express inner feelings

A way to record them acceptably in pen

A way to put forth grief, agony,

Sadness and anger

And drain the heart of strain

The poison pen

Poetry is an emotional expression

A way to journal personal events

A way to open the heart to love

A way to make a public declaration

A way to share the joy, cheer,

Happiness and delight in

Overwhelming elation of the soul

The passionate pen

By added enough poetic license

To my verse

I’ll try not to impale myself on my pen

By doing so.

Go back to the poetry page for another volume of the series, ‘Songs for Michael’,

Volume 3 entitled ‘God Always Walks in the Circle of Light’