Monday, October 29, 2012

I have gone Marking

Pablo Neruda

I have gone marking the atlas of your body
with crosses of fire.
My mouth went across: a spider, trying to hide.
In you, behind you, timid, driven by thirst.

Stories to tell you on the shore of evening,
sad and gentle doll, so that you should not be sad.
A swan, a tree, something far away and happy.
The season of grapes, the ripe and fruitful season.

I who lived in a harbor from which I loved you.
The solitude crossed with dream and with silence.
Penned up between the sea and sadness.
Soundless, delirious, between two motionless gondoliers.

Between the lips and the voice something goes dying.
Something with the wings of a bird, something of anguish and oblivion.
The way nets cannot hold water.
My toy doll, only a few drops are left trembling.
Even so, something sings in these fugitive words.
Something sings, something climbs to my ravenous mouth.
Oh to be able to celebrate you with all the words of joy.

Sing, burn, flee, like a belfry at the hands of a madman.
My sad tenderness, what comes over you all at once?
When I have reached the most awesome and the coldest summit
my heart closes like a nocturnal flower.


Saturday, October 27, 2012

Angel of Temptation

Honey you’re an ice cream - on a Sunday afternoon
You’re a cool lemonade - on a sunny day in June
Baby you’re the whisper - of a humming bird in spring
You are the summer water - bringing life to everything...

Honey you’re the cool frost - that gathers on my window pain
You’re the steam from hot chocolate - rising to great me once again
Woman you’re the Christmas lights - wrapped around my tree
You’re the magic and the wisdom - in my philosophy...

Honey you’re the sugar - in my candy holiday
You’re the smell of the ocean - you’re the sounds of Montego Bay
Lady you’re the cool breeze - coming from the sea
You’re the angel of temptation - pouring inspiration down on me...

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

The Ballad of Star Chaser



I was the angel of thunder
When the world was young
I fell from Heaven like a snow flake
Trying not to hit the sun...
Became a pirate on the Marauder 
And I conquered the seven seas
And on the shores of India
I caught love's disease...

I was  the poet warrior
I conquered Heaven for my kings
But loves desperation
Brought me to my knees...
I crossed the fires of midnight
To mend a broken heart
But found an island of mad men
Stumbling in the dark...

I was prince of the city
Where all kings are crowned
But the sound of her heart beating
Is the curse that brought me down...
I can still hear them laughing
From the deepest parts of hell
To never let me forget
How the great Star Chaser fell...

I am the story teller...
Each night I ask the stars above
To give me strength to last forever
Until I’m with the one I love...
Her kiss I cannot forget
For I crumbled like a man 
My lust knows no regret
I'll find my Heaven once again...
Illustration by Victor Vogt for the "The Barrons Of Celica"

Sunday, October 21, 2012

10 useless facts about Dash Deringer

 ... but we're going to list them anyway...

 1.  I am not on face book... and you shouldn’t  be either...

 2.  I do not use a cell phone nor do I wish to own one again... my life functioned well before one and it functions quite well without... and it does not effect my business or my life in a negative way living without...

 3.  I do not own a car... not since I had to lived in one...

 4.  I do not own a home... well... I actually have found some land that I do have my eye on... with a little house on it... by the sea... everything else is incorporated...

 5.  I rather enjoy my time alone... I like not having to explain myself to anyone... not having to defend my life and the way I have chosen to live it... not having to make excuses for my comings and goings... my sudden urges to get away... and return when I please... my leisurely attitude toward life and devil may care about the money we spend... but I tell you again... for those that care to listen... once you know what it truly is that you want... then you go after it... you breathe it... eat it... drink it... dream it and live it... and you will get it... but only if you truly know what it is that you want... now, my love for my solitude and devotion to my bachelor ways does not mean that I will always live this way... at least I hope not... I do have much love to give... and I would like to find some one to enjoy the world with... but I know what I want... even in that department... why should I settle for less... exactly... I shouldn’t...

 6.  I think I look good in a suit... unfortunately, as I do not report to an office - not even my own - on a daily basis, I do not get to wear them as much as I would like... but I think I will start dressing more professionally - once more - if for no other reason than it makes me feel more mature and manly... and the women always like it...

 7.  I love pasta... I love bread... and I love sweets... and I have reached the age when I must now start working hard to keep my body in proper working order and looking good - and I know I once said that I would not work out... it seems that I am now killing myself to stay alive... ain’t that a bitch...

 8.  It wasn’t too long ago that I sold off all my rights to a screen play that has since been turned into a movie... by selling of all my rights - I mean all of them, kids... my name will never appear in it’s credits and I will never receive any royalties... but I always was quite happy with the deal I made and walked away well compensated... these kinds of deals happen quite often... and if you want to know the formula for a movie that will get made... I am willing to let you in on that secret... for the right price... or I might just spill the beans over at “OSB”... and I will not (can’t) even say what movie it was...

 9.  I have recently been ordained as a Minister... bet you never saw that coming...

10.  A regular stalker of the Deringer Files asked why this blog has such little followers... she feels that we should be bigger... I reminded her that her icon is not included with the followers that I do have - as most stalkers do not wish to admit that they are indeed stalkers - or regular readers... but I have to say... I do not want this little blog, that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, to have many followers... I like it just the way it is... don’t you... of course you do... and that is why you come... this is “the V.I.P. Lounge... at the Havana Club”.

the usual suspects...
She had the looks, he had the muscle, and I had the brains...
and we'll never be that young again...

Friday, October 19, 2012

I need you...

More than a flower needs the rain...
More than an empire needs a name...
More than wild horses need to be free...
I need you...

More than the summer needs June...
More than a rose needs to bloom...
More than a river needs to flow to the sea...
I need you...

More than a sparrow needs to sing...
More than a castle needs a king...
More than a young lamb needs valleys of green...
I need you...

  need is a pretty strong word...
  what if I just say..." you make me want to do stupid things..."

Sunday, October 14, 2012

there you are...

Inevitable...
Brad Pitt for No5
video
I do believe this is the first time any man plays the role of the face of Chanel...

Saturday, October 13, 2012

I can't tell you I love you...

I can’t grow a garden - without any rain
I can’t write a love song - without feeling the pain
I can’t get to Heaven - without going through Hell
I can’t break a curse - without knowing the spell...

I can’t cross the desert - without the stars in the sky
I can’t cross the ocean - without the wind on my side
I can’t be an outlaw - without breaking the rules
I can’t be the hero - if I’m stealing the jewels...

I can’t lead you through darkness - if the candles wont glow
I can’t put out the fire - if the water wont flow
I can’t move the mountain - if my faith isn’t strong
I can’t get back home - if I don’t know where I belong...

I can’t fight the evil - if I don’t know what’s true
I can’t race to the arctic - without a brave crew
I can’t buy you diamonds - without silver and gold
I can’t bathe you in sunlight - if the clouds wont unfold...

I can’t tell you I love you - if the feeling’s not there
I can’t promise forever - if this is going nowhere
I can’t give you these words - if I don’t write them down
I can’t break your heart - If I’m not around...
art work by Dmitry Shorin

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

the last song...

This is the last song - that I will ever write
I’m down to the last bottle of wine for the night
And these are the last words - you’ll ever get from me
This ain’t no broken promise - it’s just a broken melody...

This is the last time - I will call out your name
I know you’ve moved on - I better do the same
And this will be the last girl - I’m gonna love tonight
I’m gonna give it all I’ve got to give before the morning light...

This is the last promise - I will ever make to you
This will make up for all the dreams I could not make come true
These are the last tears I’ll leave behind in this place
Let the beat of my heart fade away - Like the ghost of your beautiful face...


Sunday, October 7, 2012

indescribable grey...

There was a woman in Mumbai with eyes that were an indescribable grey, and every time I found myself trapped in her gentle gaze I felt as if I was swimming through a rain cloud... for they had a hint of sadness in them.  Her smile was subtle and tender and... quite reluctant... for she only smiled at me to be polite... but for two weeks we carried on such an unspoken affair at a small tea-house down the road from the Celestial Elephant Paper Company.  Every after-noon I would arrive for my tea (or a Coffee, some days) and read the English paper... or a magazine... or just day dream of the beauty of the colors of India...

I never knew her name and I never bothered to make conversation with her - though I could have found many things to speak of with her - I do recall that one of the girls, a designer at Celestial Elephant, may have mentioned this beauty, and that they were acquainted, and this woman, with eyes of the sea covered in winter, may have also been a designer...

Every after noon I would arrive before her... place my order and sit at the same table - against the wall to the right of the entrance, facing the window... she would walk in... always as I was ready to sit and place her order and sit at the same table... in front of the window to the right of the entrance and sat facing me... she always carried what looked like a sketch book - though I never saw her draw in it and she carried an agenda - like a Filofax - she would stir her tea slowly... with long thin fingers that blossomed into nails of porcelain... painted and manicured by ancient, mystical creatures from the deep gardens of Agartha... I imagine the swirls she made in her cup of tea opening portals to other worlds and wondered what I must do to get there... she would often loose herself in that trance of stirring her tea and would look up startled when she would wake from her self induce hypnosis... to find my gaze upon her... I would give her a half a smile in approval of her eccentric behavior and she would force herself to smile... that unapologetic... yet, socially acceptable... fake... courtesy smile... which only made my smile bigger and friendlier... quite pleased with myself at inducing what might turn out to be disdain for me from this woman...

And so it was...

For two weeks in Mumbai we carried on this way... it was on the fourth day that I actually found myself anticipating her and placing bets with myself on what she would be wearing and how she would fix her hair... would it be covered under a scarf... would it be tied back... would it be loose and free... would she take pity on this miserable poets soul and allow me a whiff of her dark silky strands... I would dream, some nights, of those mysterious swirls in her tea cup... and the white squall raging in the seas of her eyes... and by the end of the sixth day I found I was writing little poems for her... four or six little lines professing my love for her... and only her... I pledged on my knees... in one poem... to be her champion as she knighted me with her pencil... and swore to never love another... I wrote her poems and promises and reminders to meet me here tomorrow... which I ended up polluting the city with...

Did she know... the desire she inspired in me... the curse of her beauty... did she know... the insanity she was forcing down upon me... did she know?

The day before I left Mumbai  - on this trip - I did not visit the tea-house.  I stopped before I entered and decided to wait for her across the street - there is a small shop there were I hid behind some racks behind the window and stood in silence like a tiger waiting for it’s prey to foolishly stumble into my lair... she walked into my trap... with anticipation... and stopped at the entrance... fidgeting with her blouse and lowered her scarf from her hair - it was tied back today... she wore lipstick the color of blood... dripping from a matador’s sword... and I thought I saw her let out a sigh... she entered as she always did... ignoring the world around her... dismissing the lowly peasants that hold up the kingdom she rules over... haughty little princes... but she stopped at her table and stared out the window... could she see me?

Her face became confused... and her confusion turned somber, and what was the beginning of a smile turned to disappointment as she slowly turned her head to face my empty table... she forced her self to sit and gazed deep into her tea cup...

She sat there for a few minutes pretending to look over her schedule and flipping through the pages of her portfolio... something she never did in all these fourteen days... until now... she re-arranged the objects on her table... and moved them back into place again... she looked around for a ghost that was not there... shifting her head to the sound of a voice she never even heard before... she began to tremble like a squirrel on a delicate branch swaying in the breeze... she looked out the window and back at the entrance... she looked up to the counter but her ghost was nowhere to be found... nowhere...

I watched her come to terms with her solitude and she reluctantly picked up her spoon and lost herself in the swirls in her tea cup...


Farewell, my darling...

I walked out of the shop and headed up the road to the studio...

And I have never been back to that particular tea-house... again...


Saturday, October 6, 2012

"Be..." another friendly stalker video

She said... "we'll shoot it over the internet
and I said... "o-kay..."
what you don't here are the silly instructions which she was giving...
and four months later...
video