i break your rule…
but I want to grab you
be that girl that can say
the right thing
that can make us right
but I can’t fix you and
and I gotta stop being that girl
that tries to fix everyone
else that’s broken
when I can’t fix myself
and you can’t handle my overstuffed luggage
i never could pack light
deep down I know it’s just an excuse
which is why I picked the fight
and forced your hand
to stop the push-pull
for us to end
what never was
better than unpacking your bags in vacancy
losing your luggage in uncertainty
and I know your right
my luggage is heavy
even for me
i have no business
involved
in more
until
one bag only
is more than a rule
…but I miss my friend
One Bag Only October 26, 2009
The Joys of Being French October 10, 2009
The First Million Years or So
600 Years of Unwanted Guests
Middle Ages and the Turn of Provence
Wars of Religion and Hocus Pocus Popes
Oppression, Resistance, Quel Renaissance!
Debating The Age of Bad Taste ou Epoch Classique?
Post-War brings Socialist Mitterand and the Revival of Occitan
The Joys of Being French, Oui or N’est Pas?
C’est La Vie in The South of France
Santon Fairs in the Var et Renoir at Les Collettes
Columns, Columns, Columns and a Bridge
Troubadours Cansos, Love Story, La Californie of Europe
Hug the road winding the Cote d’Azur
Bordeaux, Beaujolais, frescoes in Peille
Sailing to Promenade du Soleil
Down the Rhone: Orange to Beaucaire
Malabar’s bulging biceps swell
Jagged Alpilles, rocky plains of the Crau, marshlands of the Camargue
For the Rhone is a Saturdays Child
On to Nimes, the Gard and Montpellier
Le Vin’s de Herault and Agde founded by the ancient Greeks
Narbonne, the Corbieres and the Aude, Castles and Cathedrals abound
Last but not least, there’s the Catalans of Roussillon
Getting There
By Air, By Coach, By Car, By Train
By Boat, By Bus, By Bicycling
The Song of Summer, Cicadas tune
Siesta under pine trees and game of boules
Tender is the Night with starry skies
Bouillabaisse, Aioli, Thirteen desserts
Estocaficada and onion tart
Before Laying a Bet, will it be
Holiday Destination or Life on the Riviera?
Like the Fitzgerald’s and Hemingway’s
You will not be the first to stay
Avec votre coeur dans la méditerranéenne.
Vacancy September 18, 2009
Need lurks in the corners of her closet
Trying on a ball gown, a clutch, a stole
Pretending she is anything but herself
Waffling between the here and the there, of fame and anonymity
Jimmy Choo heels, borrowed Yurman, Prada on loan
Insecure steps on the red carpet she walks
Courage in a bottle, a pill, a man, she requires
For tonight’s masquerade, her anonymous task, she selects a numbing mask and
Free-flowing Vodka Gimlets to quiet her nerves
Desire harpooned that summer in Cannes
This chameleon, playing charades, she does pretend
Silk straps off her shoulders fall
Passionate promises, poor choices provoked
His smell on her she cannot escape
It’s a shame they will never know his name
Ivory Peonies August 8, 2009
Somewhere in the dark corners of my mind
The places we go to hide
I wish I were four and still a child
You say grow up, be a little more mild
I never asked you to stay and wait
In fact I think I warned you I’d be late
Flowers only bloom in the spring you see
And it’s been winter for eternity
Explains the cold shroud around my heart
And you thought i was just playing tart
No babe, but dessert sure is sweet
Yet haven’t you learned that I ain’t
I made you a pie, you baked me a cake
We spent that whole winter down by the lake
Trying to fix, to forgive, to forget
Strangers out of season, frozen with regret
I told you I did, I warned you I would
Get bored with gardening in the cold wood
He thawed my ivory peonies one magical night
Now from you I run with fright
Back to the comfort corner of my mind
Very safe place to go and hide
I’ll pretend I’m four, a prodigious child
I can’t hear your screams, your call of the wild
Some say a cold-water death can be euphoric
For your sins, I know you will burn for it
You and your dreams, now locked in a hard cell
I hope I haunt them from my cold watery hell
Change August 4, 2009
“It’s coming.” Said you
“What’s that?” Said i
“Change.” Said you
“Change? Change has come and gone and come again. It’s the only constant. You’ve been busy. Haven’t noticed.” Said i
“But I’m afraid of change.” Said you
“The hardest part is waiting. With change you skip-the-line. It’s a VIP pass straight to the ride.” Said i
With desperation you looked at me
I could see adequate fascination in your deep blue eyes
You questioned my actions
An intensity only you could deliver.
Remember the only constant in time is change
and only change is constant
I warned
Trying desperately to make you understand
the future is not something I can tell
nor do I know if I can give
what you want
if I only knew what it was
And if I did know these answers would I relinquish them so willing?
So time lingered
as predicted
adequacy became waning
as I warned
Parting company was easy, no hard feelings
except for a slight loneliness we had both dealt with before
with others we cared only too little about
It’s too bad we felt this way
for we too
remain constant
as changes always do
….and Nostalgia Came Creeping In August 2, 2009
Do you remember the time when you glanced at me
…and I swear I could see right down to the bottom of your soul
…and it felt so good
a moment captured in time, when all was good and right
…and you knew it too, you felt it same as I
and we thought it might last, we said it always would
but moments like these seldom do
for fear he captures our souls and he whisks us away before our very eyes
before we can recognize that life is too short to let these moments pass us by
…but so often they do
intoxicating… July 29, 2009
…as your hand grazed my incandescently illuminated flesh
lips parted
…waiting
…anticipating
my next…
and just as soon as I came…
I left
in search of another
…high
yours too had worn off
bittersweet succulence
engraved relentless
in clouded memories
i took your moment and made it mine
…feeling nothing
