Friday, May 29, 2009

Don't tell me you love me.

Don’t tell me you love me
That you want to be near me
Even if it’s true
Because I’m not who you think I am
I’m not that good of a man
I know that I’ll only hurt you

Don’t say that you need me
Don’t think you can free me
From all the ghosts I’m running from
Though your kisses are gentle
And your touch is essential
My heart is still o n the run

Don’t hold me pretending
That you are not waiting
For the words I’ll never say
Though your love’s sweet temptation
Might be my salvation
From all my scoundrel ways

Thursday, May 28, 2009

...everything for you... that you are for me...

I’ll write you poems until my soul bleeds
I’ll draw you kisses until all of Heaven falls to its knees
I’ll give you love like you’ve never had before
When you say you need my touch
I’ll come running back to give you more...

I’ll fight all the Dragons that Heaven may send
Hold your heart so tender when it unmends
I’ll find the words that no man has ever said
Don’t you know by now
I would go where angels fear to tread...

I’ll break into Heaven if that’s what I have to do
If I ever run out of words to give to you
And I know that paper hearts are all I’ll leave behind
And a curse on anyone who makes you cry
Because those tears are mine...

Monday, May 25, 2009

What she said...

I think I mentioned, in these Deringer Files somewhere. that I don't speak with any women from my past - and the past could include yesterday, for some reason, that is just the way things turn out. A lot of that has to do with me - but getting into that conversation would drag on for ever and we would get nowhere... so... it is pointless to try to figure the reasons out. however, this leaves me in the dark about something I think of quite often - what do the women of my past think of me? There are many women that I left in better shape than when I found them, and equally as many that ended up in worse shape - but I have made it a rule and have always tried to leave them... shall we say... improved... I can't think of any other way to put it.
So because I don't speak to them and I am not out looking for any of them - I have no idea what they think of me now that we have nothing to do with eachother - but I always want to know - the good and the bad... so that I may too improve myself.
The following was written by the woman with whom I had my last "quasi-relationship" with. She posted it on the "Havana Club" Blog a few weeks into the relationship - I can't remember exactly when but I saved a copy of it before I shut that blog down and opened the Deringer Files here. The last time I spoke to her she wasn't too happy - and as you know the last time I saw her - I didn't speak to her... so we don't know how she feels now - but we know that she drops by to the Deringer Files from time to time... and we know how she felt then... I do miss her by the way - even though she made me nuts at times... she was lots of fun... and... nights are not the same without her.
He's laying there with his eye closed - he doesn't really sleep, he just lays there thinking a million thoughts all at once - making himself crazy trying to solve the problems of the world and sorting out poems for lovers who's names he says he can't remember and trying to hold back the demons of his childhood... and some where in the darkness of his mind is he thinking of a poem for me or is he trying to find his fathers voice...?

He keeps boxes of poetry that he has been writing since he was fourteen - more than half of them are still works in progress... you haven't read the really good stuff yet... his poetry makes me cry... wishing they had been written for me... but I am also praying that I don't end up just words in a note book of unfinished poems - whispers that linger... and kisses that ended too soon.
He's laying there and I can't help but think just how lazy this man really is - let me tell you - he said he wants to write a book on lounging or make a documentary on the art of taking it easy... maybe it's just me... and I have to constantly keep moving, but, he does help me to relax... I just wish I understood how he gets things done. For example - yesterday he turned in a brochure to a client - actually, he turned in five designed brochures laid out with copy for them to choose from, but he has not even mentioned that he had a client or that he was working on a project, so when did he have the time to put them all together since I have been taking up most of his time - hmm... Another great mystery about his man who claims to have nothing is that he can make money materialize from his pockets where there was previously none - that is a trick I would like to learn. Now, about his claims as to not owning anything - to be thirty nine years old and not to have accumulated anything? he has a small closet in his room that is filled with boxes and his clothing is well organized (according to color) and his T-shirts and sweaters nicely folded on the top shelf - I wish I could take a picture for you - but this is all that the man says is his. I personally do not buy this story, and if you new him personally you wouldn't either - there is just something in the way he carries himself and the way he talks and acts that lead me to believe that he is not as poor as he pretends to be... and he has many secrets. Sometimes he gets this grin on his face that is a give away that he is hiding something. It is a grin of a man that is very sure of himself. It is an evil grin - he knows something that the rest of the world doesn't know and he's not going to share it with any one... what could it be?
I have heard him say some very cruel things - he harbors many evil thoughts in him but he is a very kind man and he is very loyal and trustworthy to those he has chosen to give his loyalty and trust to - the rest of us are little people - outsiders, we are the poor unfortunate unenlightened slaves that he says we are and we deserve what we get - those are his words - you should also know that this man who wants to save the world is not politically correct - oh no.... he just figured out what I am doing... he says he is not politically correct because he is not a communist and it is a communist idea to make the peons feel equal and important...? plus he says it makes people sound stupid and has turned this country into a bunch of wimps.
The sun is up and I must get going... I will think of him all day... those lips... he is a great kisser... he knows just how much pressure to apply and how to tease me with his tongue and he knows how to touch me and how to hold me to make me feel wanted and desired and beautiful... and he knows how to caress my face and brush my hair to the side... he knows what to do and say to make me submit to him and he just melts me when he looks at me and doesn't say a word... he just looks at me with desire... and he also makes me lazy... but I must be going. I have to work for a living and can't just pull money out of thin air as he does...
He'll read this after I leave but he does not think I will post this... hee-hee...
Well... all I have to do is press publish, baby...

Saturday, May 23, 2009

...Because I'll only break your heart

Baby don’t look at me with those eyes tonight
You don’t know what you do to me
And when you touch me like a curious child
You bring me to my knees
Baby don’t use that voice tonight
Don’t say the words I need to hear
And don’t hold me in your arms so tight
You make these demons disappear

Baby don’t look at me with those bedroom eyes
I feel like I’m under attack
And don’t take me to your paradise
No, I might not make it back
Don’t shower me with your love my dear
Your kisses fall on me like wine
If I could only let go of my fear
Then I would really make you mine

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Up with the fire

How could you turn out to be so cruel
To leave me here waiting for you like a fool
I’m starting to think I was just a joke
And all of my dreams of you have gone up in smoke

How could you have taken the best part of me
And leave me here in sorrow for all eternity
I’m starting to think it was just a game
And all of my hopes of joy have gone up in flames

How could you do all the things that you did
And leave me in chaos where order once lived
I’m starting to think you were just a liar
And my visions of love went up with the fire

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Give me more saxophone

Give me more saxophone
When I feel alone
When the night’s too long
And only a song
Can stop the thunder in my heart

Give me more symphony
When I need you next to me
When the city streets turn cold
And no dream I hold
Can stop the hurricane in my heart

Give me more saxophone
When you are gone
When the telephone doesn’t ring at all
And only a call
Can stop the volcanoes erupting in my heart

Give more Symphony
And less sympathy
When your letters don’t come on time
And only the songs when you were mine
Can stop the earthquakes in my heart

Saturday, May 16, 2009

To be with you tonight...

I would sail across an ocean of fire
Swim through the seas of desire
Ride the tides you inspire
To be with you tonight

I would run through a desert of broken glass
Crawl through the valleys of my past
Count every grain of sand for as long as forever may last
To be with you tonight

I would jump from star to star
Collect stolen halos in a jar
Trade them to the devil to find out where you are
To be with you tonight

Friday, May 15, 2009

Another lonely poem.

Another cigarette and maybe I’ll go
Another lonely poem, then maybe I’ll know
Why the angels in Heaven never hear my song
Why my heart does not feel like beating when you are gone
Why the stars above me do not shine as bright
And sweet rock and roll can’t even get me through the night
Another gin and tonic then maybe I’ll leave
Another love story then maybe I’ll believe
Somewhere across the ocean my dreams wait for me
Beyond some strange horizon are the things I’ve longed to see
Someday I’ll get it right and my dreams will all come true
And on a rainy night I’ll turn a corner and find you

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Breathe - Inspired by something Isabel said

Breathe - to the rhythm of the water
Sway to the rocking of the sea
Dance with the ocean's daughter
Sail to the edge of your dream
Breathe - with every creature that surrounds you
Touch every leaf on every tree
Be every dream that did not come true
Live for every man that can't be free
Breathe - until there is no more tomorrow
Rise beyond every yesterday
Melt away every pain and sorrow
Now you are the sunlight - now you are the rain

Friday, May 8, 2009

Waiting for inspiration

It lingers in the back of my throat like wine waiting to seduce me and on the dunes of my lips it sits like traces of her lip gloss... and it happens so often I have made her my mistress and I hide her away from all the others that linger... all those great first lines... all those amazing titles waiting to be part of some epic novel... or at least some poem that will make her stay.
It comes floating in the air like a magical, whimsical gossamer... a conversation I over heard or a line from an article in a magazine... sometimes it comes from the incoherent mumbling of some beggar... perhaps trying to find the ending to his own rock opera. Those first lines always come so easy... but the rest of the story... the middle and the end... elude me. They haunt me and they taunt me... they crash against the walls in my mind like the waves hitting rocks on the shores of Malta and the spray of the water rises up in hues of gray to paint my evenings in black and white and shades of "what could be"... they haunt me... Like the whispers she left behind... calling to me from a dream... whispering the words she knows will bring me to my knees, the words that will have me crawling on my belling through the fires of my lust, the words I will devour with the hunger of a wolf and drink in like the nectar from Ponce De Leon’s fountain... they haunt me... like the ever present scent of Chanel that I can never wash off my clothing or my fingers... or the sheets on my bed... she’s always there waiting for me to find her... to charm her... to seduce her into my arms once more... but when I reach out to hold her she fades away like the ghosts of so many other lovers that never had the chance to know who I really was and what I was really looking for... and she fades away through the walls and wanders down the hall... taunting me... and I chase after her with promises that I know I will never keep, promises of eternal love and devotion and fidelity... I fall to my knees at the feet of her alter and offer my confession in exchange for communion and the baptism that will cleanse my soul and wash the mortal desires from my body making me worthy of enlightenment... humble and broken and faithfully hers... just give me those words... but she taunts me... like phantom promises from a Lauren Bacall movie... and I... might be Bogart... and I might be insane... but I follow her... from room to room, down hallways and through doors that haven’t been opened since the winter wind blow them shut and I play hide and seek with her... and I bargain with her... I offer what’s left of me to her... I loose my mind for her... but I get nowhere closer to her... and the words that can save me fade away with her - into... the night.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009


I was in darkness - and you were the light
You were the bright skies - I was the shadow of night
I was rising up from the water to be baptized in your flame
We can never be together but you say we're one and the same ...

I was the picture of evil - you were an angel in hell
My life was cursed - and you were the spell
I was followed by a dark cloud - your love came down on me like rain
And when I'm bruised and beaten and down on luck you're there to heal the pain...

You're the star that guides me - when I'm lost at sea
And you're there to catch me - when I fall in a dream
And when I run out of inspiration and there are no more hearts left to break
And my master calls me back to Heaven you'll be waiting at the gate...
You are my soul mate...