The dance of Delia- part two
The dance of Delia.
A Chapter by Coyote Poetry
The dance of Delia- chapter two”
“The Golf of Mexico
The majesty sea,
seduced men heart forever,
inflicting the bold and the restless
to dance with the chaos of the sea.
The sea,a wonderous lover,who murmur secret words to free men.
More to life than treeless land and demanding work.
The endless sea,a woman, that demand everything and cannot be tamed.
A celestial beauty who will bewitch your hearttill death steal you away.
The lucky man find safe harbour with the ocean near. Allowing the sound of the sea to calm his spirit,relax his mind.”
We arrived at the truck and I loaded her backpack into my storage container. She told me. Almost a five hour drive to Port Aransas. I told her. I never saw the Texas Golf of Mexico. I been to Florida often, never the coastline of Texas. She smiled and she reply. You will fall in love with her. The sand festival is going on, great food, great drink and amazing music. Aransas is paradise. My friend Lexi found her in 1990 and she rarely leaved the city. She lived in walking distance from the Golf of Mexico. The water is so clear. I told her. I love the sea and thank you dear Delia for inviting me for the road trip to the sea. I am off till Tuesday and when must you return? She smiled and she came to me and she whispered. I am self-employed. No schedule for the gypsy lady. She kissed me and she said. Time to roll dear Johnnie. The Golf of Mexico is calling us.
She roamed through my music. Putting Jim Morrison, Hank William Jr. and the Rolling Stones aside. She showed me the Jim Morrison cassette “L.A women”. She told me. My favorite travel music Johnnie. I knew you were alright. We have Jim Morrison songs and driving to the sea. Not a hard journey and my friend house is easy to be found. She is a artist too, more successful than me. She sells her paintings and make money. I am greedy with my work, my work are my babies. I was told I could sell them and make some real money. I prefer to hang them on my wall for me to see. She put the cassette in and she sang with the songs. I watched her sing and I admired her eyes. They were hazel green now and I loved the wildness and fire in her dancing eyes. I loved her moving bare feet and her flowing dark brown hair touching her shoulders. She was a natural Texas beauty, long and tall, womanly curved that would tempt the devil. Brave and not shy. She told me. I have lived in Austin, my whole life. I traveled for a while and I returned. Austin is cool. We have the music, the artist and the poets. She looked at me and she asked. Do you talk Johnnie? Or do you only write words to paper? Johnnie, please tell me a secret, something no-one knows except me after you tell me. She held my right hand since we left Austin. She squeezed my hand and she smiled.
I smiled and I told her. Three years ago, I left Michigan to seek a good death. Death didn’t want me. Once I thought I knew what love was and I was wrong. I learn with my three years stationed in California in Monterey. Life was more than me. The Pacific ocean taught me. So much to do, so many places to go. Now the Army owned me and the Army isn’t a kind lover. I drink too much and I want too little. She smiled and she leaned into my shoulder and she whispered. Beth allowed me to read your unpublished book. You must publish this work. My story is similar. I didn’t pay attention to what was truly important. Maybe, all of us Johnnie, we must fall down to get-up wiser. We bare the scars of disappointment and she laughed and she told me. Time for me to recite a poem.
“We are captive or willing,we can be.
We do not miss our innocence till she is gone.
First kiss, last kiss.Which one is sweeter?
Are we lovers or liars?Are we dancers or just puppets?
Are we captive by the chains of useless things?
Or are we willing to live life with zealous energy, to eat-up life without walls.
Do we steal? Or do we borrow? Will our fluttering heart become stalemated?
Will the kiss become less sweet?
Do we need to be consumed by the need of the flesh?is pleasure, our final emotion left?
What does the artist see?
What will the writer write?
What will the poet create?
Is silence, the bitter ending?”
She finished and she squeezed my hand. I told her, bravo. Beautiful, you are a poet dear Lelia. I believe when we forget to feel, we die. We need human contact. Skin to skin, people connecting and knowing the sweetest pleasure. We need the warmth of arms, legs, warm kisses where two people can be bare, honest and true. Consume each other will both people are content. These are the sweetest days dear Delia. She smiled and she laughed at my words. She asked me. Are you in-love with anyone? Do you belong to someone else? I brought her left hand to my lips, kissed her hand and I told her. Dear Delia, Johnnie been alone for awhile. Lost two brothers to suicide. One in 1988 and the second in 1989. I turn stone-cold. I excepted part of the reason, they wanted death over life. Maybe I was destined to fall in hell kitchen? I don’t have anyone dear Lelia.
Her eyes looked sad and she whispered. Today is a new day and we are almost to the sea. Maybe you and I can find a miracle of hope and forgiveness? I have been alone awhile too. Lost people to cancer and drugs. My busy life keeps my mind occupies. You tempted me at last year poetry reading in Austin. I believe you are more lover than soldier, more gentle than what people can see. There is more to the soldier’s words that you write. I told her the sea is near. I can smell her. She looked-up to the highway ending and she gave me a evil smile. She asked. Can we go swimming, the damn hot Texas day and I need to go swimming now?
I told her, of course dear Delia. I parked the truck on the beach and I watched her run toward the Golf of Mexico. She took off her Summer dress and she ran in her bra and panties into the moving water. I followed her, taking off my shoes, socks, pant and my shirt. I ran to her in my boxers into her open arms. I found her in shoulder deep water and the gentle waves caressed our faces. She wrapped her arms around me and brought me closer to her. She whispered, the sea feel so good and thank you Johnnie for bringing me to Port Aransas. This is my first time this year. I love the ocean, allowed us to know. Life is more than us. She kissed me long and sweet. We watched the afternoon sun and sea in a needed silence. I haven’t felt this good in many years and I did a silence prayer. Thank you god of life and death for Delia and the sea.
She dragged me to the truck and she told me. Lexi is making us a grand meal. She took off her bra and panties and I saw her beautiful rose bush tattoo. She put her Summer dress on and took off my boxers. I put my pants, shirt and shoes on. I drove barefoot to Lexi house. I told her. I loved your tattoo, you are art, a beauty for the ages. The most beautiful woman, I ever seen. She gave me a coy smile and she told me. If you are attempting to make me love you? Keep talking my dark poet. Maybe I can make you the poet of the light? I have another poem dear Johnnie. Do you want to hear the poem? I told her yes, please.
“The ocean song
She will siege your heart,
she will steal the weight of your sorrow.
She will sing Harmonious songs to you,
she will make the dreamer, dream.
She will make the painter, paint.
She will make the poet, create.
She can be sweet, she can be deadly.
She can uplift the dead in spirit and
she can heal the body and soul if you love her.
She can teach you what life can be.
The ocean song tell us.
We must be free, not tamed.
Seek mystery and wonder.
We must be like the sea.
Fearless and invincible.”
I told her. The most wonderful poem I ever heard dear Delia. Thank you for befriending me. You are a blessing to my heart. She looked serious and she reply. maybe the dark poet will smile more, dance more and drink less? Maybe he had found his muse?
The sea was near us still and we reached Lexi house. She brought my hand to her lips. Kissed my hand and she whispered. We made it Johnnie.