there was the sea
the plaintive cry of seagulls
you stood at the edge
with a look I could not read
waves broke
the sun did not shine
there was the sea
the plaintive cry of seagulls
you stood at the edge
with a look I could not read
waves broke
the sun did not shine
genegenegene
do you remember
daviddaviddavid
the three of us
and me singing
cowgirl in the sand
just like neil young
in a park somewhere
’cause i was singing
and dancing to it
today in my living room
remembering
you two and me
and how once upon a time
we were young
and so was the world
so was the world
sleep
without dreams
she stands
breasts reaching skyward
left leg bent
her rear highlighted
the jeans a second skin
posing
on her phone
for all to see
no one noticing
too absorbed
in their own phones
thumbs working overtime
living a life
in cyberspace
while she advertises
one here
on earth
he can’t remember the song
just the image
her naked dancing
candles the only light in the room
he’s sitting on the floor
leaning back against the couch
the dog asleep above him
and her hips sway
the light playing shadows
where lust lives
and he will bury his head soon
immersed in shadows himself
and hips will be joined
on that floor
that rug
lost in what should have lasted forever
but is only a memory now
as the baseball sage
once said
“when you come to
a fork in the road,
take it ”
and I’m taking it
and going
wherever it leads
me
the air she breathes
fills her lungs
with the scent
of flowers
and her heart
becomes a rose
waiting for the man
who will pluck it
there were roads taken
miles and miles of track
Ohio winters
NY summers
autumn nowhere
and everywhere
leaves turning color
dropping in my path
with memories of you
I remember hair length
mine and yours
there was Anthony
our first shared hair stylist
who transformed me into someone
even I didn’t recognize
and you sold your waist length hair
to a wig maker
what did you use the money for
those acting lessons
the vocal coach
to buy presents for the men
in your life
when I was not quite in it
I remember sitting on the curb
in Hollywood
discussing Franny & Zooey
later listening to Henry Miller
talk movies
with your teacher/lover
in between drinks
and deep dish pizza
with Alex and Vimal
who didn’t drink
but liked to watch me
in case I fell down
and I came pretty close
on several occasions
those days/nights
when you were breaking my heart
you sang Without You
to me in some club on Melrose
before you went home
with someone else
and those 2am visits
to my place in Malibu
the door never locked
just in case you came
from that strip club
where you did lap dances
in a g-string and tassles
to pretend there was still a chance
that what we once had could work
there were the stories
even you weren’t sure of
the truth
the deceptions
that guy from your acting class
hiding in the loft
when George Bellenich came to call
and what happened that night
on 85th Street anyway
when I was away
you were always a bit vague
in your recollection
just like the time you called
for me to save you
from date rape in Santa Monica
you never could explain
what you were doing there
in the first place
there was that tryst
on the floor of a classroom
with an instructor
the first time I cried
the lies you said
years later in counseling
all mingled together
why I even tried
I’ll never really know
the Calabrese in me
stubborn to the end
believing in vows
words of honor
even when it’s obvious
to everyone else
you can’t go backward
on these roads
of life
just forward
regardless of potholes
toward whatever future
lies ahead
the heart sinks under memories
of other days
and I get to thinking
which is not necessarily a good thing
about those faces I see in the dark
try to remember names
personality quirks
the smell of a wet field
the sun breaking through the clouds
for instance
a dog gingerly picks his way along a beach
there are shells everywhere
and is it Gene or David
who stoops to pick one up
grinning
the dog looks up expecting a game
and that long haired woman with the green eyes
who will break my heart
in ways, at times
too numerous to mention
will make the world stop
and time
here in Izmir
moves forward
just the way it’s supposed to
dragging my mind along
hesitantly
but gently
to where it needs to go
there you were
in my dream
as young as you were
when I was a kid
and you said
you were letting the past
go
but I could not
release it
I reminded you
of that Chinese restaurant
you always took me to
on our yearly pilgrimage
to Macys
during holiday season
then you smiled
as you faded from view
and my eyes
turned to liquid
and my heart
melted away
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
A virtual cabaret of songs, stories and questionable life choices.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet and author by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
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Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World