‘Boundless sea, honey love and a sacred fire’
Boundless sea, honey love and a sacred fire
A Story by Coyote Poetry
Boundless sea, honey love and sacred fire
It was early Summer of 1994 and I was stationed at Texas. I went to Austin, Texas for the a poetry reading. I was trying to live the Hemingway life. The strong drink, loud song and delightful beautiful dancing ladies in the untamed taverns of Austin.
I have loved Texas since I arrived in the late Spring of 1993. I landed in Austin on a rainy night and Fifth street was alive and well. Fifth street song and drink made perfect place for a man who didn’t want to be saved. I didn’t care if I found heaven or hell and somehow I landed on my feet in Texas. I went to war to find peace and salvation. War taught me. No-one wins in war. I was stationed in California for two years and California taught me. Restless mind is a dead mind. I challenge the Pacific ocean by suicide boarding the Winter storms and I free-climbed the California fault line finding hidden waterfalls and beautiful places. Both ocean and fault line was kind to me. Allowed me find peace in the gifts of nature.
I became the street poet roaming Pacific Grove and Monterey. I roamed highway one seeking new place and the unknown. California awoke me from my slumber and search for early death. I read and wrote poetry from Big Sur to San Francisco. Poets, writers and musicians were hiding in safe places and I befriended many.
In Texas. I fell into her bosom. I loved the drink, the country dance and the Texas girls. Tonight I was reading at the yearly downtown poetry reading. A hundred writers and many people gathered to hear the words of the brave Poets and writers. I was the back-up Poet. If someone didn’t show-up. I would read. Me and two young girls were sitting and listening to the readers. They told me their names were Helen and Sue. Both were college students and they wanted conversation. I told them. My name is Johnnie and was good to have met them. Both girls had ivory skin, bold charm and their eyes filled with delight waiting to be heard. Helen asked me for a poem. I asked her. An old one or a new one? Helen smiled in a blissful way and she asked for a poem about boundless sea, honey love and a sacred fire.
I sat with a delightful lady,
her eyes of hazel green.
She had rosy tempting lips
and perfect ivory skin.
I told her.
Some woman cannot be held or loved.
They are like the boundless sea.
Free and wild leaving men to weep.
My lady of Summer.
So perfect in Summer dress and blessed by the early morning sun.
I loved how you deliberately danced by the Austin river,
allowed the lucky breeze to caress perfect tan legs, tender shoulders
and bare feet.
My Texas love fell to my feet.
She whispered to my yearning ears.
What is love Johnnie?
Is it joy and pain?
Is it just emotions dwelling in the wanting eyes of the lovers?
She kissed me once. She kissed me twice.
I told her.
Love is simple my love.
Love is you.
The honey love you share with me create a kindling of hope and joy that expanded to wild storm.
I want our love never to end or lessen.
Real love is never forgotten or put away.
My lady of the Texas Spring.
My joyful place of joy and happiness.
You inflamed my heart and mind.
When you are near.
I know love and nothing else.
You are my sacred fire.
Helen and Sue smiled. They held silence till my last words. Helen was my favorite kind of woman. Long red hair, short dress and legs as long as highway 35. Her dangerous blue eyes and luscious smell of her perfume, of the wildflowers made me wish for things I shouldn’t have. Sue was a beauty also. Long flowing brown hair and gentle voice. I could hear the song in her voice when she spoke. Her gentle brown eyes searched me. She knew I was broke and needed repair. She worn shorts and a tank top, allowing me to see tender shoulders and perfect body. She was a lucky man dream and wish.
Helen asked me. Did you wrote them poems for us? You honored us dear Johnnie. I believe tonight. Me, you and Helen need some sweet red wine, good song and us to celebrate the Austin nights. Poets, writers and singers need each other. We must write, we have no choice. With either pen or voice. We must create, sing and express our pain and joy.
I smiled and I told them. Dear Helen and dear Sue. You are my only good offer tonight. I believe Texas ladies need some Long Island ice teas, good music and some dancing. The sweet read wine is for us later. After the taverns are shut down. We will go to the Austin river. Talk, sing, dance and laugh at the Texas moon.
Both ladies smiled and agreed.