Thursday, March 13, 2008

You Made Me Smile

You held my hand when the world was a huge, overwhelming place.
You smiled at my jokes even when they weren’t remotely funny.
You danced with me…you sang to me…you made me privy to your dreams…
You made me smile.

You called me baby. You called me papa. You called me out.
You called me friend. You called me lover.
You called me when you needed a caring heart to shelter yours.

You held me close when the world was a dark and stormy place.
You kissed me back when my passion bade me to melt into you.
You walked with me…you stood by me…you let down your intimate shields…
You made me smile.

- for everyone who recognizes themselves somewhere in these words
(and especially for those who don't) -

It's my birthday too, yeah!



It's my birthday and I'm an unabashed fan of birthdays (especially mine) so crank up the video...it's the Beatles, of course... and do a little long distance rock and roll celebrating with me!

Namaste, y'all.

Monday, March 10, 2008

I Thought About Brenda Today

I thought about Brenda today. This doesn’t happen everyday but it does still happen often enough to make the connection between us…as tenuous as it is these days…still feel real. Well, to an extent, anyway.

Once upon a time we were thick as thieves, friends who each other’s first calls at times of joy and, especially, each other’s first calls at times of travail (large and small.)

Once upon a time, we saw each other through new loves and tumultuous loves and broken loves…safe havens in those most stormy of seas.

Once upon a time we were as close as two people who were not…and, because it was outside the realm of our relationship, were never going to be…be lovers could hope to be…sharing mundane concerns and fanciful imaginings with no fear of mocking judgment.

Once upon a time, we folded into each other with patient ears, open hearts, and unselfconscious laughter, tears, and shy but undeniable tenderness.

Once upon a time…that time when stories (good, bad, and indifferent…real and imagined) begin and end…we were. And then…time and distance and circumstance conspired (with our compliance)…we were no longer.

But still…at random moments and from random angles…I think about Brenda…her quick wit, her fair beauty, her intense Irish eyes, her bright joys, her soft melancholies…and thinking about her soothes me in bittersweet, undeniable ways.

So I thought about Brenda today…missing her and feeling connected (however tenuously) to her at the selfsame time…and it made me smile.

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

150 Words: It Was Just the Night

It was just the night…the knowing yellow moon, the sparkling impish stars, the majestic gently roiling sea…and us. We walked along the beach…hand entwined with hand, heart entwined with heart…and we imagined…we knew…that, in that tender moment at least, the entirety of the vast blessed world contained no one but us.

It was just the night…a warm blanket in the sand, the serene jazz of waves against the shore, soft golden moonlight dancing on naked skin…and us. We warmed each other…young lovers not so young anymore but still, oh yes still, so very much in love…with passionate kisses and rapturously arousing embraces.

It was just the night…the boundless expanse of the ebon heavens as witness, the beating of our hearts as guides, the sweet fire of our touching as tender reward…and us. It was just us…alone, together, two as one…alone, together, in the bright blessed world…just us and the night.

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

The Legend of Larry

Larry constantly told transparent, unnecessary lies; lies as answers to questions that were never going to be asked. It was, as those who came to know him quickly realized, something reflexive…something born out of some need to keep his cards close to his chest even when there wasn’t a game being played.

Most of the people who knew Larry (he didn’t really have friends…chronic lying tends to make the retention of intimate friendship an iffy proposition at best) accepted it with resigned shrugs and barely concealed nods of disbelief and left him to inhabit his own insular world as much as possible.

Larry wasn’t a bad guy…but his addiction to almost ceaseless prevarication and its seemingly attendant furtive habits made him a guy people didn’t want to know too deeply. And, of course, nobody knew who Larry was…his colorful tales of his many exotic adventures and steamy romantic conquests throughout his 60+ years of life rewrote themselves with regularity depending on the occasion…and the audience…and the amount of wine Larry had “secretly” imbibed throughout the given day.

Larry had two (or was it three) ex-wives with whom he was still friends with and two to six children (none of whom apparently celebrated Father’s Day); he also had any number of beautiful, sexy ladies who, to hear him tell it so earnestly, longed to be the next Mrs. Larry.

It was, the people who knew him supposed, a gentler madness and they listened to the stories with a bare minimum of attention paid. And that, seemingly, was more than enough for Larry.

Sometimes late at night Larry, deep in his cups, would reach out…with plaintive phone calls and hopeful e-mails…looking for a sympathetic heart to give him some measure of shelter; he never found one. Failing that, he took solace in the company of more wine, fair weather folk willing to take advantage of his wide-eyed neediness, and women whose affections could be negotiated on an hourly basis.

It took a little while for people to notice when Larry disappeared. Nobody seemed to know where he went…nobody seemed to know if he was dead or alive…Larry was just gone, without a word and without a trace.

Every once in a while, Larry’s name would come up in conversation and the speculation would often become quite fanciful. In his absence, the legend of Larry grew and the fact that he wasn’t around became oddly poignant…it was a quite unexpected void…and Larry, wherever he was and whatever he was doing, must have really liked that.