“A dance with death”
A dance with Death.
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
If we listen. Wisdom can be heard in the wind.
A dance with Death.
(If you are lucky. We get warnings to change our ways. Years ago I was trying to drink myself to death in Austin, Texas. A dark-haired beautiful woman with dark serious eyes change my direction. Kind spirits with wise advice do warn us that we control our destiny. I’m a historian and believe if we open our hearts and mind. We can have a good life. Death is always close. We must forgive the sins done against us and our sins done to other people. A wise man/woman learn to move on and is thankful for one more day to celebrate being alive.)
I was sitting alone in a Austin tavern. Drinking shots of whiskey and a lot of beer and wishing to be somewhere else. I was trying to erase my memory. I knew already.no cure for a beautiful faces tattoos on my heart and mind.Hard to erase desire to feel and hold a woman who is gone. I remembered an auburn hair beauty and.
I knew I made the fatal decision when I allowed her into my home many years ago.Her beauty enticed my hunger to dance into the lust and passion of her skin, her open hands, her wild eyes and willing mouth. I wanted to know her need to be held and used. I remembered she danced nude for me and she opened her legs on soft bed and her tempting smile made me fall into the flame of desperate need that can never be decreased, the flame must have more or shall die. I tried to satisfy her hunger of kiss and touch that increased with every touch.
She came to me on a cold October night with grief and tears. I consoled her and I manifested an illogical elicit dream and wish we could co-habit a space and a time.In the mist of passion and desire. Our two hearts in the discovery of the secrets only known to the lights of the burning candles.Sweet words of Leonard Cohen plays behind us. I spoke words of love and she spoke works of thankfulness. Sweet kisses escalated my hunger to discover every hidden secret of her perfect body. Her angelic smile and breathtaking beauty condemn me to wish for her every second we where apart.
We were Winter lovers and when the warm days of Spring came.She departed my life on an early Spring morning and I fell into the pit of loneliness. Finding peace in the long Island ice teas.The deprave desire of love was extinguish and my Immune heart and mind try not to ascend to the mirage of never loving again.
A beautiful dark-eyed woman sat next to me. I asked. ” Did she want a drink? $2.00 till 9 pm for the Long Islands.”She gave me a sad smile and she told me. “I’m the caretaker of death. I don’t need a drink. I need a second of your time dark poet. Please dance with me and I will whisper a song of life and death. Pain and sweetness.” She took my hand and she took me to the dance floor. We did the Texas two-step and Hank William Jr. was singing.”Why do we drink. Why do we smoke. ”
I held her close and her body was warm and create chills and fear at the same time. She whispered in my ear.”Your spirit has eroded to cheap whiskey and bad woman.You are black in aura you are contaminated in sin and self-pity. I will come for you soon.If you don’t change your ways.Your afflictions will kill you if you don’t change your road and dreams.You abandon and deprived yourself from human contact except in the thieves of flesh and kissing the dark motel rooms.Where drunken passion and lust can live only.”
I told her. Sometime being a condemned man, leave you safe and alone.The barren soul forfeit laughter and opportunity to be alive. You are safe.
The songs stopped. Her eyes were searching my eyes and I felt weak and afraid. “Asked is it too late? She smiled and she told me.”Hell is full of disappointed souls damn to swim in shit forever. Leave the booze and disappointment here in the back of this tavern.Live life like this is your last day to be alive.” She gave me a crystal on a rope and she told me.”Put this in your on your neck. May keep you safe.” She kissed my forehead and my lips. She walked away quickly to the exit.
I don’t drink anymore and I’m thankful for the warning. Death sometime does make house calls. Life is to be celebrated. Pain and pleasure are the memories and
building blocks to make us wiser and kinder. When the caretaker come to you. Wise person need to listen.
8 Aug 1994
Thanks for a piece of your life!
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A old story. I appreciate the comment my friend.
Reblogged this on crjen1958.
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Thank you my friend for reblogging. I do appreciate.