I stood there oblivious of time, as the seconds passed Disregarding the gallons of water pouring over me Shame on me! Guilt made me shut the shower off, the same which Makes me save aluminum cans in my purse… Like a transient – much better then not recycling, no?
I stare at the teardrops adhered to the shower curtain Then slowly I study those water droplets bouncing Off my nude form. I look at my breasts and marvel At how beautiful they are -- that is the Narcissus in me As I squeeze the silken orbs for lack of other hands, I sigh, and I blame this on the state of the economy
I juxtapose how the firm, lush fruits must be rotting Away at the Grand Central Market. Juicy peaches, Mangos, avocados, and melons are looked on with Longing, while the rats feast on them when the lights Shut off…such a waste. As I paint my toenails pink, The song the Rolling stones crone, plays in my mind
“If you can’t have the one you want, you get what You need.” ….I sing this over and over while my Roaming hands travel over the winding landscape Of my body, as it thirstily absorbs a layer of lotion I close my eyes for a moment, before I have to dress And I think that I too, am wasting away...in desire
Other hands might have to do, sure Yet, will I shut my mind long enough To endure? Perhaps I should seek a deaf mute Then only hands and lips will be used to communicate There is no need for banal chat anyway; it is such a bore The language of passion is plenty enough, of that I am sure
"The Metamorphosis of Narcissus" c.1937 by Salvador Dali
One must be attuned to its subtle waves With an open mind and heart, ever ready to welcome it To dive in, and revel in it It need not always be postponed for tomorrow It can be obtained right now, why dwell in sorrow
Sometimes my heart constricts when I perceive … Such acute pain, deep despair I absorb like a sponge Just a fleeting glance, for it festers under layers of make-up, Or a bravado façade. I pretend I do not see it, and life goes on Mobile on crutches that makes the pain fade into the background
For such reason, I am thankful when I capture a glimpse of joy This balances the avalanche of information overload Unexpected pleasures, like today’s, the jacuzzi filling up with Strong jets of water. The pressure on my shoulders was exquisite, Water splashed all around. I felt like a kid playing under a waterfall
As I slid down the straps of my bathing suit, to yield better results I recalled, such simple moments such as these can capture this Elusive emotion. It reminded me of sweltering afternoons When I walk alongside an automatic water sprinkler I hike up my skirt a bit higher to feel the delicious, cool midst
Cool water feels like thousands of little kisses up my bare legs Even better if nothings else in worn underneath As the water sprinkler appeases the thirst of the green lawn, Refreshes the lethargic trees and the petals of a rose The childlike joy of a kid should never, never, never be forgotten
The old fruit vendor took refuge under a straw hat The heat of the afternoon enhanced the scent of The lush fruit. I asked him how much For the avocados, bananas, and mangoes? He seemed genuinely grateful to make a sale On his improvised market on this busy street
I softly smiled in return; this would make the Fruit tastes even sweeter, as well as lighten his load And at least help fuel his vehicle for the road Late that night I woke up again, and served a cold Glass of milk. In truth I craved a chocolate bar too Yet, a banana purchased that day, would do
As I brought the banana to my lips, I thought That even better than chocolate and milk… Would be a soulful and prolonged kiss Then it dawned on me than much better than A long kiss, would be that accompanied with The sum of two bodies locked into one
Like the proper key inserted into the keyhole Then I thought…that even better than the perfect Fit of two bodies locked in an intimate embrace It would be if it were done in Maui or France Then I thought, that the ultimate would be...if Somehow chocolate would be incorporated into the mix
I think I died for a moment last night No, not le petit morte of excruciating bliss Perhaps I was attempting to fly away Things are getting really ugly down here
I sat up abruptly and listened to my erratic heart The room changed in dimension as if looked through A distorted lens. The big canvas of Jesus Christ Placed precariously on my dresser calmly observed me
Is it time? I asked not with an ounce of trepidation I think by now that I’ve done enough time, and not To be arrogant, but I think I’ve accrued enough points And thus far, I’ve gotten the gist of the overall picture
So, I’m just letting you know that I’m ready Freddy – just kidding No, not really. I am not being pessimistic even I am burning with the intense desire to know more
I know that it will be as easy as shedding a winter coat Then I stop to think how selfish I am too It would break my mom’s heart for she would simply not Understand, that we are divine spirits wearing a heavy mask
-“It is the principal of aesthetics Leticia! Beauty is synonymous with true goodness. Beauty is a pleasure to behold, and man’s true reward.” Rene attempted to cajole Leticia into submission, while cooling his livid temperament a little bit.
Shaken by the blatant fury Rene almost unleashed, Leticia thought that it would be prudent to stall, and let him cool off. –“I won’t agree to cosmetic surgery Rene, although I will agree to go for a consultation to ask the surgeon for a free evaluation.”
-“Good…good. You will make me very happy Leticia, and if you do this for me, I will pay for it in full.” Rene said with a smile, while he refrained from touching her at all. He was afraid that if he touched her, his hands would strangle her of their very own accord.
-“Slow-ass, motherfucker drivers!” Rene’s temper was sorely tested when driving on the two lane highway. This deserted highway snaked around the skirts of formidable mountains, and edged a precipice. Since the opposite lane was deserted, Rene merged into the opposite lane, and accelerated his speed to pass by the snail-paced drivers. For good measure he honked at them, and said farewell with a manual expression.
Once again settled into his lane, he situated the radio station to search for more favorable music. He was dividing his attention with an eye on the road, and alternatively on the car radio, when an image he saw reflected on the mirror, froze his hand in mid motion.
From the mirror he looked at the right side of the back seat to see Maribel’s apparition. Yet, this time there was a remarkable change. Her face had the same beautiful haunted expression, yet her breasts were fuller like coconuts seeping milk.
His pupils dilated when he turned his head back to focus on the thing suckling on her full breast. It had a very large head, its eyes were closed, and the minuscule hands and feet had a web like quality to them. The developing circuit of the nervous system was clearly discernible through the gelatin-like and viscous consistency of the flesh.
Rene snapped his head back to the road to see that he was coming close to another slow-ass driver. He gripped his perspiring hands on the wheel with uncommon force, until the knuckles turned white from the pressure.
-“Go away! Go to hell for all I care. That is NOT my son; you have probably cheated on me even in the afterlife! Go away!” Rene yelled at the expanse of road.
Seeing that the driver in front did not accelerate when Rene flashed him his headlights, he decided to merge into the opposite lane to pass the motherfucker and give him a piece of his mind. As he did, they were embracing a pronounced curve on the road, when he saw the lights of a massive truck fast approaching him straight on.
As time seemed to stand still, Rene felt bombarded with information from all sides. The slow-ass driver honked at him to merge into the right lane, Maribel’s eyes bore into his, full of reproach. The massive 18 wheeler honked from the enclosing distance, and flashed its headlights to Rene.
Rene felt enveloped in a trance, and mildly seduced to stay on the left lane, as a languorous inertia threatened imminent takeover. He seemed hypnotized by the headlights looming ever closer ahead, and by Maribel’s melodious voice, as sweet and smooth as Irish cream.
-“Stay on this lane Rene. Stay with us.” Maribel urged.
This story is loosely based on the true story of Tamalero Asesino, which happened sometime, somewhere in Mexico.
The sun played peek-a-boo through the open windows panes, as the flowery curtains surrendered to the wind’s capricious whim. Occasionally, they had the audacity to flirt by shamelessly lifting the hem of their skirts.
The wind surreptitiously carried a bit of dust to sprinkle over the tiles of this colorful and cheap eatery, situated on their route to Monterrey.
Under the glare of the noon sun, Rene observed Leticia as if under a microscope. He did this with the intent of a prospective investor, gauging the properties of a potential investment and all of its pitfalls.
In turn, Leticia was slowly becoming ensnared in Rene’s charm. As she followed the fluid conversation, her mind was conjuring a myriad of plans. What if... she allowed love into her life again? What did she have to lose? Leticia thought, as her anticipation rose. She blushed a bit when she thought of what it would ultimately involve.
She seemed a nice woman to Rene, with a sweet disposition, and a shelter to rest for a bit. Yet, her nose! The aquiline shape distorted the harmony of her face, and marred what could be a pretty face if enhanced with cosmetics, sexier clothes, and a softer nose. The latter was an insult to that face, and a conspicuous offense to anyone else.
Rene itched to ask her is she would consider rhinoplasty, and breast enhancement. Perhaps later on….Rene’s thoughts abruptly changed course when he focused on the vision which stood behind Leticia.
The open doorway gave complete freedom to the balmy breeze to tousle and play with Maribel’s loosened hair. The long raven tresses fluttered vigorously in the wind, as a pirate’s black flag does at the helm of a ship.
The cold which suddenly permeated the room, generated goose bumps on Rene's skin. The naked apparition of Maribel was a gruesome yet still a beautiful sight to behold.
Her skin now had a grey tinge to it, and the haunted beauty of her face, deeply contrasted with the gruesome gash dividing her midriff in half, from the sternum to her pubic bone. The protruding broken ribs which Rene had haplessly pried open with grip pliers, exposed a hollow cavity from which blood still overflowed in Ruby rivulets down her legs, to leave a bloody trail as she ambled ever closer towards them.
The revolting stench of death accompanied her. She approached a few more steps, to stand next to him holding her hands together, as if in a prayer. Her reddened hands bathed in her own blood, held something in the bloody cocoon of her enclosed palms.
-“Rene, why did you kill us? I was good to you, and we did not deserve to die so brutally.” Opening her hands she showed a knob of flesh, no different than a red kidney bean. –“This is your son Rene; you also killed your son!” Maribel announced with inconsolable anguish reflected in her eyes.
-“NO! You’re dead! That’s not true!” Rene slammed his enclosed fists on the wooden table which toppled his beer bottle over. The effervescent river traveled directly to the floor to amalgamate with the blood and light dirt carpeting the tiled floor. The fusion created fizzling red bubbles as the dead blood thirstily sipped the fermented brew.
-“Rene what is the matter? You look shocked, Rene please, look at me!” Leticia stood up to lightly shake Rene’s shoulder.
Suddenly Maribel’s apparition vanished. Rene waited for the shock to abate before he spoke again. –“I’m alright; I think I just lost my appetite. Please order me another beer, and let’s get out of here.” Rene said as his heart beat stabilized a little bit.
In the months ensued, Rene had established a successful campaign to worm his way into Leticia’s home, and into her local community.
They lived in comfort and relative complacency, lacking a genuine passion for each other. This was alright for a while, until Rene became obsessed with transforming Leticia into her ideal woman.
-“It is not very expensive you know, and you can charge it all. I’ll even help you with the cost. Come on, will you at least consider it? Please?” Rene droned on about the subject once more.
-“I am afraid to die on the operating table. This is how God made me, and I am okay with myself. You should accept me as I am, as I accept you as well.” Leticia tried to reason with Rene.
A scalding wave of fury washed over Rene; he trembled with the intensity as his eyes distilled concentrated fury. The lust for blood rose again, and in his mind’s eye he saw how easy it could be to fall off the wagon again. She was being an unreasonable, stupid bitch, just like the others’ had been.
Leticia took a step back, for a moment truly alarmed by the murderous glare painted on Rene’s countenance.
-"I'm taking him to a makeshift graveyard site. He is going to show me where there are more cadavers buried." Pedro said as they left the station, with Rene restrained by handcuffs.
-"Where to?"
-"Obviously, to my home. You've made a wise decision my friend, as for what you get paid, it is not worth risking your life. You will prosper and I will mend my ways. I will be an honest man, and stick with what I do best - my tamales. Chicken, and pork, of course." Rene added as an afterthought.
Pedro sat on a box, as Rene excavated into the flooring of the cellar. He digged about three feet in, when his shovel made contact with metal.
-"Here, care to give me a hand? The box is pretty heavy, as I also collected watches, and gold jewelery from my exes. They just did not appreciate the jewelery which I bestowed on them to lure them into my bed. It was a wise investment considering the value of gold today." Rene said with labored breathing, as he grabbed one end of the metal chest, and waited for Pedro to help him get it up to level ground.
They both struggled with the weight of the treasure chest, and Rene quickly grabbed his set of keys, to open the lock of the metal case. The light from the weak light bulb reflected the contents of sandwich plastic bags of stacks of dollars, gold rings, separated gold chains and necklaces, and another enclosed link bracelets.
Pedro directed the light of his flashlight to the treasure chest and his face beamed with undiluted pleasure. This was indeed a jackpot! He was due this unexpected bonus, for the fifteen years he had devoted to the force, and barely made ends meet.
-"Here officer, let me get you a duffel bag for you to count the money if you like; it's all there. We can split the jewelery in half, since there are quite a few thousand dollars worth of gold here. All I ask, is that you respect my ten grand. I need to start from scratch, and live a decent life." Rene said this humbly, as she went to gather two large, navy-blue duffel bags and deposited those next to the open metal case.
Without wasting anymore time, Pedro expedited the transfer of money in a neat fashion into the bags. He put the jewelery aside, to split with el Tamalero after he was done.
He had vacated all the contents in record time, and was sorting through the jewelery, now dispersed on a nearby table, when he made the fatal error of exposing the back of his neck to the brutal and swift contact of Rene's shovel. One judiciously placed blow on the neck was sufficient to render Pedro unconscious.
Rene was of medium stature and slight of frame. He had trouble picking up Pedro's corpulent body over his shoulder to haul upstairs. He ended dragging the unconscious body from underneath his armpits.
He arrived at the kitchen, and unable to place the massive body of the long kitchen table, he traveled further more into the bathroom. I short time he placed Pedro's vital organs, including his eyes, into the cooler filled with ice.
He placed the cooler last in the trunk back of his SUV, as first he had carpeted the back seat flooring with the duffel bags full of loot. With no time to vacate or clean the tub, Rene disrobed and grabbed the loose shower head to cleanse his body of the blood, sweat and dirt covering his form. He shampooed his hair, and lathered his body with thrifty strokes of the soap, as the soapy water gathered on the tile floor, next to Pedro's cavernous cadaver laying prone on the bathtub with bloody tears streaking his face, now devoid of his eye balls.
-"Let's meet for a chat in half an hour; I have to split." Rene said this into the telephone receiver, and proceeded to leave his home, for the last time.
-"I don't like airplanes; I have a distinctive aversion to flying. How about you?"
Turning to address his seat companion on the charter bus, Rene politely engaged her in conversation. She was a rather plain woman of perhaps late thirties. Her alabaster skin, the gold tones in her hair, and hazel eyes, bespoke of her European heritage.
-"Ah, me too. I'd much rather travel cross country by bus, than buy an airplane ticket. If you only knew why. Rene thought to himself.
Leticia smiled happy to find someone so nice to converse with on the long trip to Monterrey. And a fellow passenger who dislike planes too!
-"Are you traveling for work or pleasure?" Leticia asked to keep the momentum going.
-"Both. I intend to scout the terrain for new opportunities. I am a chef."
-"Oh that is so interesting! My father used to cook delicious meals as a hobby. He never let on to others' his 'secret' recipes.
It was the usual topic of conversation post a delicious feast he enabled, deciphering which ingredients he used in his succulent blackened turkey. It was marinated the previous day and holes were poked through and through to stuff cloves of garlic, and black Spanish olives. And the bird had been marinating the the blackened concoction of garlic, red wine, chilies, a dash of oregano...anyway, the point is that no one knew the exact recipe for sure. Many tried to duplicate his recipe, according to the taste.
All modesty aside, I must say that I think I bettered his recipe a slight notch in the end, by mixing in fresh cilantro to the blended mix. This transformed the color and flavor into something that was mouth-watering to inhale. I do think some men have an extraordinary hand for the kitchen, though that is rare to find."
-"We are coming to a stopover for lunch. Would you care to accompany me Mrs..."?
-"Miss. I am Leticia Medina. I am single, and I have no romantic attachments." Leticia beamed when she smiled.
-"It is a pleasure to meet you Ms. Medina. My name is Rene Rodriguez. And as I was saying, it would be a pleasure to invite you to lunch on our stopover." Pedro say with a charming smile.
-"I'd love to." Leticia said, her heartbeat accelerating just a bit.
-"Tell me, what is it that you do?" Rene asked measuring her potential for a partnership.
-"I am a second grade teacher. I am taking advantage of Easter holiday to travel for business affairs to Mexico City. I am a member of the board, although occasionally do I make roll call.
-"Board? Which board?" Rene asked, his curiosity peaked.
-"I inherited a portion of my father's holdings, along with my brothers. They live in Mexico City, while I rather stay in the ranch where we were raised. I love the country, so much more than the multitudes of a large metropolis."
-"Who do you live with? If it's not too forward to ask." Rene asked with acute interest on the subject.
-"I live alone with my dogs. My housekeeper and her husband also live there, yet in separate lodgings."
Rene bestowed a brilliant smile on Leticia. He was in good form to start a clean slate. He was in good form indeed. He caressed his face devoid of any facial hair, and his newly shaved head. With sunglasses, he was unrecognisable.
-“Love can be a tenuous thing. I was lonely, so I set out on the quest to find a lover to warm my bed, and to massage my aching feet. I met a lovely girl who barely made ends meet by selling flowers on the streets. Her natural beauty rivaled those of the delicate flowers which she displayed. She had come to the big city from a small province, to search for a better opportunity for herself.
Her eyes were like dollops of honey, and her long braided hair, glistened like a raven’s plumage. Yet, with time I noticed that she was not very intelligent. She was very shy too. She was too modest to fully undress in front of me.
Another thing I did not like, was that she was so nice, that she smiled at everyone, and greeted everyone in a friendly manner. This friendliness with everyone aroused my suspicions. She was twenty years younger than me, and well, the same men came every morning to buy a tamal, a cup of coffee and to chit chat with her.
There was one young man in particular which worried me. He was handsome, tall, and well-built. He was a construction worker I think. I don’t know if I imagined this, but I think I saw that his hand lingered longer then necessary over hers when he paid his bill.
I saw red! I was incensed! I would make that little slut pay - I said to myself. Yet, she was too beautiful to mar the perfection of her face and neck. I put something in her tea, which drugged her to asleep. Afterwards, I undressed her, and then I carried her to the bathtub - this full of ice cubes - to then delicately slit her wrists.
It was a beautiful sight to see, as the ice cubes reddened and melted with the heat of her fresh blood, to create a giant goblet of Sangria. Her long-lashed eyes were serenely closed, as if she were asleep - which she was, although now in her eternal sleep. She would never age, nor would her body depreciate.
I will tell you something in all honesty; I was getting a delirious rush from killing my women! I had no remorse, nor guilt, as it made me feel omnipotent! Not unlike those scientists who cloned sheep. I was usurping God in that task!
I lovingly skinned Maribel with a scalpel, as if she were a ripe grape. I utilized extreme care and precision, to reveal the plump flesh underneath. I uncovered such a juicy, firm and lush interior, like that of a voluptuous grape which when fermented, produces the ambrosial and heady liquid we delicately savor.
Oh, by the way, the ice cubes on the tub generated a new idea. I grabbed a cooler to fill it with ice; and then I deposited in those her internal organs. In no time I made the right connections; and I profited very handsomely from those sales.
And the large expanse of unbroken skin from the back, midriff, and limbs was also saved and sold to specialty purse makers. If a skin of a crocodile fetches so much money, imagine what this will fetch to the end user. And do you know why this is officer? Do you know why my tamales are so irresistible to the palate? Because on a primal level, we are all beasts with a ravenous lust to devour one another! The taste is the sweetest on earth, as you have firsthand knowledge of.” Rene said with a wink.
-“So you killed your girlfriend. Where did you get the other bodies in the refrigerators?” Pedro asked.
-“You know who’s also at fault? Do you want to know what the devil’s tool is? It’s Craig’s List! I simply wanted to find the perfect woman, and as I perused the ads, I was shocked at the contents. Married, seeking married, no strings attached fornication, pictures of genitalia, why it’s absolutely disgusting!” Rene said with indignity.
-"Not only is there rampant immorality on Craig's List, but it's almost solely responsible for annihilating the newspaper industry by stealing ad revenue from them. That is why it is the devil's tool, I tell you!"
-“And you are a saint? So you lured your victims from an online web site? How many Rene, how many did you kill?” Pedro said with irony.
-“Oh, I don’t know exactly. The names became blurred, but In all honesty I did try to make it work. It was only when I perceived a flaw, or they had the audacity to ask for money for sex, or something that pissed me off, that their days became numbered.
May I borrow a pen and paper please? I need to write something down.” When Pedro supplies this, he wrote the following:
"All I can tell you is that due to my burgeoning tamal, and organ sales, I have accumulated a nifty sum of $100,000 dollars. If you get me out of here I will give you $90,000 dollars and leave town with the rest. I am the only one who knows where it is, as to avoid taxes and auditing, I did not save it in the bank. Help me escape, and help yourself as well. Have you ever seen that amount piled all at once?"
When Rene finished writing the note, he passed it to Pedro for him to read.
Pedro’s stomach revolted and expelled all contents on site. He folded over as his veins pronounced with the effort to empty all vestige of the offensive tamal inside.
-“That bitch! My friend, if you had known my wife – may she rest in peace - you would have more consideration for my plight. Her voice, after a while was incessantly disturbing. Like long fingernails scratching a blackboard, or the deliberate torture of a perennial leaking faucet disrupting the tenuous hold on sanity.
Drop by single drop, until it escalates to a colossal sibilant until one day, something snapped! Yes! That’s it! I think that I will plead to temporary insanity. It wasn’t me! I did not premeditate to kill her. It was as if a demon has possessed me temporarily, and he obliterated any vestige of a conscience in my psych.
The night that it happened; I sneaked behind when she was sitting on the lazy boy chair watching “Dancing with the Stars.” I remember that the volume of the television was way too high. I asked her repeatedly to please turn it down, and she refused to do so. I think….now that I think about it; she was on a campaign to drive me crazy!
Yes, when she flapped her mouth she emitted spit all around. She had really bad hygiene and fungus in the toenails. Oh, by the way, I amputated her offensive feet. Those were never used for the tamal fill.
She would spend my hard earned money on stupid, and frivolous things. Like that exercise contraption to reduce stomach flab.
What a hypocrite!
That machine just collected dust. That was its only function! Then she blamed her weight gain in suppressing her libido. What good is a woman for, if she won’t put out? Do you see how she liked to torture me? I had to masturbate more often, than when I was single, and getting more pussy then. Or if I did get some, it was like doing a cadaver, as she spread open her flabby thighs, and that my friend, was the extent of her beneficence to the sexual act. She refused to go down on me, claiming that her new religion forbade that defilement of her body.
Shaking his head sideways, Rene continued with his narrative. – “So anyways, I took a metal hanger from the closet, and then I unraveled it. I quietly snuck behind her lazy boy chair, and very quickly, I twisted the hanger around her neck, and I used all my strength to tighten the metallic noose.
She floundered like a fish out of water, and her eyes seemed to pop out of her skull. Slowly but surely, her release on my arms, and life announced her departure. She is now where she always wanted to be – in heaven. For all that she was trying to drive me insane, she was a good woman.
Afterwards, I did not know what to do with the body. So, I chopped her into pieces. And I noticed that the flesh, underneath the thick layer of fat and nerves, was not much different in appearance than others'.
Since the gas prices had escalated to almost forty-seven pesos per gallon, the price for meat, corn and food had escalated in turn. So I decided to do the logical thing. I decided then to use her meat for the tamales.
So I created a taste test by mincing her liver, and a portion of her right thigh. I seasoned the meat with a lot of species and marinated it for a bit with a few drops of white vinegar. I stir fried the minced liver with lots of onions and a bit of green chili. The aroma permeating the kitchen was tempting and alluring.
At first, I hesitated to eat it, and then I closed my eyes and placed the delicious smelling meat inside my mouth. It tasted very good. And I felt I did her good by sending her to heaven. She had trouble sleeping, and worried too much about the economy. I think it was better this way, and as a side note, my tamal business boomed!
-“So what did you do when you ran out of her meat and what did you tell her family?” Pedro asked standing with arms akimbo in the interrogation room.
-“Well, I knew that she was going to leave me eventually. I knew it, so I told them that she had left me for a younger man, and gone north to the United States. As to the meats you ate and found in the refrigerators….well…”
-"Ah,...the secret is in the sauce my friend. It is an old family recipe from way back from my grandmother." Rene said with an air of self-decreed importance.
-"Surely your wife must be the excellent cook, or is it you?" Pedro asked fanning the flames of Rene's vanity.
-"Oh no, unfortunately, I am widowed. I devote all my time solely to work, although it would be great to find a good wife." Rene answered with a little smile.
Pedro sucked his gut in, and expanded his chest out. The police uniform, was becoming a tad bit too tight. He should seriously decline the lust for one more tamale. It was so good, that when the taste bus exploded on contact with the scent and delectable seasoning, it was akin to an orgasmic explosion. Well, he would just take one for later on.
-"I will take one to go. This on the house no?" Pedro said testing the temperature of the water.
-"Of course officer. I am honored that you like my tamales." Rene said, his vanity pleased.
-"I'll also take a diet Coke; I do have to watch my weight." Pedro said as he helped himself to a can swimming in the melted ice in the orange cooler.
Pedro meant to save the tamale for lunch, that had been his initial intention. Yet, a primal hunger took over to devour Rene's tamale large portions, as rivulets of the stew dribbled down his chin, and adhered to his police uniform.
Pedro had still a few hours to kill. This was a matter of import. He ran the plates of Rene's license, and drove to that address. Surely Rene would still not be back for several hours as he still had to sell all of his tamales.
Pedro arrived at a dilapidated little house with peeling paint, and a garden of junk adorning the front. Stealthily, he walked to the back to see if there was an open window around. In the back trash galore, as if he bought and sold stuff at a local swap meet. There was an independent garage in back of the house, this padlocked.
Opening the lock with a master key, Pedro peeked into the dim interior where a dust fluttered where the sun peeked from outside the dirty little window. Here Pedro surveyed several industrial refrigerators, also padlocked. A long wooden table centered the garage. Instead of wasting time looking through the food stored here, Pedro decided to brake into the main house and take inventory of the valuables stored.
He went to the living room, and bedrooms, and saw that Rene lived very modestly. He had an old analog 25" television set, a VCR player, and old furniture.
On his way out, he went into the kitchen to grab something to drink. On the industrial stove, there were two huge cooking pots. The aroma emanating from those was irresistible to Pedro. He opened the lid and pocked the large spook to retrieve a bit of stew.
-“Steaming hot tamales! Here have a taste test; you will find that my tamales are like no other!” Rene’s baritone voice boomed without the aid of a microphone.
Cubing an aromatic tamal into little squares to disperse, Rene interred a toothpick into each square, with the care of a nurse injecting a syringe needle into a vein. The exhalation of the ambrosial essence of his tamal, was carried by the wind to entice each passerby.
Those who could not resist the lure purchased two, three, or four tamales to take home. The doughy masa had an orange-shiny hue, as it had been seeped with stock broth, which had been mixed previously with California red chili powder, yellow chilies, garlic, pepper, cumin, and salt.
The girth and width of Rene’s tamales were generous to a fault, which is why one is all it took, to satisfy a healthy appetite. When one unwrapped the multiple layers of plantain leaves - as if one were opening a Christmas gift - the efflux of the delectable aroma, made the saliva activate in the mouth, and the pupils dilate with the desire to devour.
Protruding from the luscious and shiny surface of the tamal, one could scout on the shiny horizon, the appearance of cubicles of potatoes, strands of green chili pepper, or the occasional bulbous apparition of a black olive.
Marring with a fork the serene, and perfectly formed surface of the tamale, one discovered the true essence of this delight. The meat filling was simply exquisite, as it was an alchemy of spices, choice meats, tomato sauce, onions, and garlic which when simmered in low heat for hours, gave it its distinct gusto.
Pedro had been on the beat for hours. One of those luscious tamales accompanied with a hot cup of coffee, would surely hit the spot. Besides, he was intrigued by this ambulant vendor whose clandestine business thrived. Surely he did not pay any taxes, and by the look of his old sports utility vehicle, he was not doing too badly.
Pedro decided to try a tamale, and to find the way to extort money from this popular Tamalero.
Pedro devoured the mouthwatering tamale in large chunks. The savor was unique and it had a peculiar piquancy which elevated this to gourmet fare. This a surprisingly cheap deal, for such an exquisite meal.
-"Tell me my friend, do you have experience as a professional chef? This is simply delicious." Pedro said with mouth full, as he bathed the tamal with more fresh salsa on top.
He looked at me across the restaurant; he was waiting His turn to use the men’s restroom at Mc Donald’s My mind was elsewhere mulling over something; It did not dawn on me after the fact, as to why he Looked at me with longing
How? With nostalgia, as if something had triggered A sad memory. Like an abandoned dog in the pound Looks at prospective owners, with longing to be freed And to become part of a new family It was the look of desolation, and hunger
When it dawned on me, he was gone and crossing The street. I felt the urge to bolt after him and offer Him part of my lunch, and a soft drink I felt the pull to follow him, yet I would have had to Run in three-inch high heels, and he was long gone
He was a day laborer, obviously at this time of day, He did not get any work today; he walked towards his Post, wearing an air of defeat towards Home Depot I ate my lunch with little joy; the food tasted like dirt Condimented with a side of guilt, and self directed anger
I had to let it go; I could not act now He would have been more embarrassed had I Handed him a food bag, in front of the others’ The food was horrible, like cereal swimming in Rotten milk - It was the taste of guilt
As I left the establishment, I put on my sunglasses To shield my eyes from the bright sunlight, and to Shield the tears clouding my eyesight I felt so terribly, terribly saddened For him and for humanity
Yesterday a friend had mentioned that while Looking for work, he witnessed a guy with a suit And a BA degree forewarn, that if he did not Find employment soon - he would kill himself... Yet before, he'd also kill whomever came across his way
How can this happen in the United States of America? Where unscrupulous greed pays handsomely well One man prays to eat his daily bread; one man knows He will rot in hell; and one man lives in voluntary hell When he cannot release his stronghold on material...things
I sat in front to observe the bus devour miles She sat in front; she was about 14 years old The dark circles under her eyes were not… The only sign that something seemed amiss It was the look of deep sadness which adored her face
I felt compelled to ask her if she was alright I thought better not, and went back to my reading I looked up and was alarmed by the despair reflected In those dark pools - muddled with hopelessness I thought better not, and went back to my reading
I took a break to observe the others’ An old woman wheeled two bags – her ambulating vault Of treasures. In the back a young woman rested behind... a huge box which read: "My First Kitchen,” It seemed too big To carry on foot, yet worth the delight of her kid
I looked up and was alarmed by her acute sadness I blurted, “Are you alright?” She smile and said, “Yes, I just fell off my bike,” Her stop came soon And said, “Thank you, goodbye.” As she tentatively Smiled, I offered her the sweetest smile in-kind
The bus driver was done with her shift; she left as Evidence of her existence a Twix wrapper on the floor She wore baggy black pants which rode below her ass The loose blue shirt, completed her Chola look. She left Without saying goodbye, she seemed absent all the while
I walked to Olvera St. to contemplate the shrine Of La Virgen de Guadalupe. It was awash with a sea Of roses and lit candles. I sat on the bricks surrounding a tree A woman wrapped in a poncho sat next to me. I was compelled To ask her if she was alright, what did I have to lose?
We talked for a while about the nature of her plight Later she asked me if I was a psychologist, and I said: “No. Yet, never mind, you have to snap out of this funk!” After some time I stood to take leave. I opened my arms And asked her if she wanted a hug…
She looked up at me with fresh tears in her eyes I embraced her and she sobbed vigorously with a force That shook us both. As she rested her weary face on My bosom, I patted her head streaked with gray, and before I parted, I said: “It will be alright….trust that it will be alright.”
I've been called fresh, and sometimes a tart Yet, others know me as decadently hot You coax that out of me, I shed my inhibitions As I feel fluttering butterflies. Take me...I'm yours
My full top rises and falls when your seeking Fingers delicately squeeze me there... ever so gently And I can't help but to stand there quivering...dripping When I feel the closeness of your hot breath upon me...
Ever ready to devour me, the lust I perceive in your eyes Frankly, it intimidates me with its intensity. I'm entranced... I am standing in the eye of the hurricane, and for the life of me I cannot run, although I know you'll consume me voraciously
I ache to feel my gaping hole - oh so blatantly exposed... Excruciatingly teased, and circumvented by your seeking tongue as you avidly lap the cream dripping inexorably down It's so sweet; it's almost an acquired taste
Go ahead and take all of me; Let us become one. Only then.. Will I truly know your inner depths, which you hide to all I know that when you're through with me, you will choose another after all...it is cheaper when you buy us by the dozen
It was a time freeze; in those 15 seconds I knew it was inexorably coming…that my death Was at hand. In the lapse before the constellation of 200 bullets perforated my body beyond recognition... I was kissing life goodbye. My breathing seemed suspended as It dawned; I’d leave my wife alone, and my son fatherless
I felt powerless and petrified…If only I… Had not gone that morning to buy water Only to meet death face to face - in the lapse Of only 15 seconds! This sucks; I was armed! I should have reacted to save my life, yet I was in Complete shock, when I faced that semi-automatic rifle
For the shitty amount they paid me…I should not Have died so viciously; as I look down at my Splattered blood and drinking water, it was over the instant a bullet penetrated my heart. To support my family I became a state police on the Chihuahuan border Fighting narcos became an uphill battle...
Between the low morale, greed, and fear of reprisals This sucks! As I listen on my own funeral My beautiful wife consumed with grief, uncertain Of what her future will be…as my pension is... as shitty as my salary was, yet, I did whatever To supplement it. Was my life worth such a pittance?
The days pass, yet I am still here disoriented It takes a while for me to figure out That I can now actually pass through walls I am not solid; I am my ethereal self Yet the pain lessens no less, as I witness my Wife's inconsolable tears as she embraces our little baby
Dear God, have mercy - have you forsaken us? No one is spared here, not even children Or the 4 year old hostage held for ransom For the stupefying amount of 7,000 dollars Dear God, please protect my family Dear God, have mercy…on my soul
Based on La Opinion's article: "Juarez: son 15 segundos para morir." March 16, 2009
A fecund womb is lined with blood A woman's ready to nurture the spark of life Earth's soaked with the blood of those fallen in war Her oceans awash with tears befallen
The sky, as the mind is blured by a thick layer of pollutants Clogged with a layer of collective fears and anxieties Projecting towards the heavens, a titan monument to despair The sky turns so cloudy, as to distort our vision and passage
Yet, eventually the sun comes out To give us warmth and vitality To nourish the soil to produce more flowers A new cycle of beautiful flowers to perfume our gardens
Life is beautiful; life is a school Yet it is a product of cause and effect Sit still for a moment and contemplate How it came to be this way
Open your heart to all, dissolve fears For in the thick flora of the jungle, late at night A mere twig, may appear to be a mortal enemy After the sum of events recalled, what is most meaningful?
I was a bit irked when several people who read The Lecture post, did not grasp in the nuances of this brief post, the backdrop sustaining it.
It happened that someone suggested that we have a question and answer session in our group, and some were in favor, while another said it was unnecessary in such a tight schedule.
Then someone stood up and said that a brief Q. and A. period would be beneficial for us all. He alluded to the fact that he had read in Readers Digest -many years ago-about a group of fifteen Holocaust prisoners, who nightly rotated turns in sharing their individual field of specialty with the rest of the group.
After their ordeal, one said that it had been like a free University for the amount of knowledge partaken by all.
Unfortunately, I was not able to find online that Reader's Digest article, and with due respect to the Jewish community, I attempted to bring to light this article to others as I was genuinely impressed when I heard of it.
I thought how wondrous is the human spirit, For a selected few who lived through, and endured such mental and physical hardship, that no human being should ever have had to contemplate, lest endure - as there is no proper wording in the vocabulary to expound on accurately, the full level of suffering inflicted. Nevertheless, the human spirit triumphed over such mind-bending suffering. And at least for those in the group, they thwarted the intent of their oppresors.
In these trying times, one must contemplate that there is always someone who's had it much - much worse than ourselves, and one must embrace the certainty, that this too shall pass.
Last night I dreamt I was a nun In love with God, and with a man of the cloth The anticipation of our stealth meeting made my being Vibrate at a higher frequency Is simply longing for the forbidden a sin? We did not consummate our desire to coalesce
Our eyes spoke what our lips dared not say The attraction was irresistible nonetheless It made my heart sing to be near him It was simply undiluted love in concentrated form On a full moon night, insanity reigned We agreed to meet at the stroke of midnight
In my dream, I wore a nun’s habit And as I walked to my clandestine meeting The moon lit my way and reserved her judgment As I was leaving the convent, a legion of men Dressed in black robes impeded our meeting And saved our souls from burning
Before dawn, I awoke shivering My limbs had battled with the blankets... And comforter, as those lay defeated on the floor As I analyzed my dream, I realized with a start The priest had been the singer I had met last night The Chilean guitar player with the sky blue eyes
He played beautiful spanish songs in our bohemian gathering I wish I could play the guitar I said, did he give Lessons? A warning bell ran when he asked me "How long have you been in this country?" Evasively… I answered, sometime. "Like how many years?" Ambigously I answered in Spanish, "just a few"
In the cold morning still darkness prevails My body, like an individual galaxy of planets Tells me certain things. It says I need to cover My bare legs from the cold air. It says that I need... To stretch it like a feline; It says I need a good breakfast And it says that I need a good….mount
- “ Let’s take a brake from the golf game Charles. Here have a cigar. I know that you don’t smoke, but just try one please. It’s the best in the world; it is hand wrapped in the island of Cuba. Pretty soon, it won’t be as exclusive as before with the influx of American tourist over there.”
-“ Thanks.” As Charles puffed on the fragrant cigar, he the heat of the morning sun, mingled with his light perspiration, and the scent of the bittersweet tobacco.
- “ Let’s take a walk Charles. We are very happy to have you as part of our team. We have mutually agreed on one thing. We would like for you to move up in ranks. But, as you know by now, there must be merits involved. Surely I don’t have to tell you that moving up a level will bring inherent benefits. You will have more clout in the group, as well as in the business world. Before we promote you though, there is something you must ‘sacrifice.’”
With a sinking feeling, Charles asks what it would entail.
- “You know free enterprise should not be curtailed, but sometimes one must keep in check the competition. Your brother Pablo has become a force to reckon. His research and marriage of natural medicine incorporated into medicine, is hailed by many. But, that is simply not good for a lot of businesses.
My God, there is a reason for HIV, and for him to have found a cure for it, well, it goes against what God intended. Somehow the undesirables have to be contained! With his fabulous breakthroughs in medicine, he is solely responsible for taking patients away from hospitals, and hailing him as a hero. He is driving the price of prescription drug way down, cutting into out profit margins. We just can’t have that!
We have to support each other Charles! We need you to kill your brother Pablo. That will be the sacrifice we require, for you to ascend in our organization, and to really, move up in the world as well.”
Charles was about to puff on the delicious cigar when he heard this, and he halted the process. He was an ambitious young man, who had lofty aspirations in politics, as well as in the finance world. But this seemed, just too harsh an obligation to execute.
To stall for time while he mulled over his options, and the scope of such an endeavor, Charles brought the Cuban cigar to his lips to puff on it some more. The afternoon breeze mingled with the flavor of the tobacco in his mouth. He could smell the faraway shores of La Havana.
There is a difference between being a willing participant in the sexual act, and making love to the one special person that means the world to one. Just as surely as there is a difference in the decadent indulgence of a banquet feast, and the bland and miserly consumption of hospital fare.
The years, tears and heartaches seemed to dissipate when blessed with a magical kiss. Unlike no other because only when one loses and finds that which one thought lost forever, can one truly appreciate the excruciatingly tender bliss of such an opportunity.
Phillip and Linda discovered a seasoned and sizzling passion for each other, which was tempered by experience, and an acute longing, which although perhaps dormant, still was perennial and palpable in the deepest recesses of the mind, and beating heart.
It was as if time had stood still. Nothing had changed in those twelve years since they had last kissed, yet, so much had changed still.
Before Linda introduced Pablo to Phillip, the latter looked startled when he saw Pablo seated on the dinning area. The resemblance was uncanny, and his heart took a leap when Linda confirmed what he’d know at a quick glance.
Phillip experienced a plethora of emotions as he embraced Pablo. He was joyous, yet deeply disturbed that he had been absent from his son’s life, and he from his. He felt that life that cheated him of a very important part.
There were tears of joy, and deep sadness intertwined. He promised Pablo that he would always be in his life. To make good on that promise, he asked Linda to be his wife.
After more than a decade since they first met, and with a son they created from that union, Linda and Phillip made their union official. His son Charles, and his newly acquainted son Pablo, witnessed the happy event.
-“Please mom? Can I stay the weekend with them?” Pablo asked Linda with heartfelt earnest. Even though Pablo was very tall for his age, which made him appear older than his twelve years; Linda was apprehensive about letting him go spend the weekend in the neighboring tribe of his best friend Paco.
Linda hid a smile provoked by the enthusiasm displayed by Pablo, his unusual blue eyes contrasted deeply with the honey shade of his skin, and these were lively as he expounded on the desire to be allowed to go.
Linda knew that the elders of the tribe had developed a special affection towards Pablo, and his insatiable curiosity was appeased somewhat by the tutoring of the wise men of the clan in the art of natural healing, and the instilment of a profound reverence for Mother Nature and of all the species of the rain forest.
Linda rested her apprehension and allowed him to go. He did earn that merit by excelling in his studies, obtained the highest marks, and easily assimilating the subjects presented.
-“Okay, you may go, and I will take a special dish for Paco’s grandfather. I am very happy that you have taken an interest in healing Pablo, do you think that is something you will pursue professionally?”
-“Hmm…I don’t know exactly. I do know that I like to investigate things. I am learning about the medicinal properties of many plants inherent to our rain forest. I think that I would like to assimilate the two and find a way to cure people with what nature provides for us here.” Pablo said after some giving some thought to the subject.
When Linda said goodbye when leaving Pablo in the care of the wise men and his best friend, she was startled when Pablo came running to give her a goodbye kiss and a hug. Something in his expression, has reminded her of Phillip. Except for the pigment of the skin, the marked resemblance was undeniable.
Some things seem beyond repair, no matter how much one would wish they would work. The attraction for Cindy had faded some time ago. Basically after she gave birth to their son, she had stopped trying to make it work. She was settled and married, and Cindy did not feel the need to strive to make their relationship a loving one. There was no real love anyway on both parts, but make the best of her situation, she did. She was considered one of the most fashionable women in the society circles they oscillated in.
To her credit, Cindy was a good mother. She lobbied to make sure that her son Charles got into the most prominent private schools. She knew that even from pre-kinder, the alliances, friendships and clout created from the association to those prestigious schools, would affect her son’s future in a profound way.
Even though Phillip existed in a loveless marriage, his commitment was enduring. It was Cindy who eventually severed the ties, when she happened to be madly in love with one of her opportune lovers. She simply left a note on the refrigerator saying that she was taking a sabbatical for an indefinite period of time.
That sabbatical lasted two months before she called home, and talked to her son. She inquired as to how he was doing in school. She then initiated the divorce proceedings, without attempting to obtain child custody. She felt that she was still young to make a new life for herself. Love and passion blinded her to the pain she caused those who loved her, in this case, only her twelve- year-old son, Charles.
When Phillip was a free man, the idea of searching for Linda once again cemented in his head. Would she even remember him? She most probably would be married with children of her own too. Regardless, Phillip wanted to take this trip which he had halted when called home, all those years ago. He was taking advantage that his son was vacationing two weeks with Cindy in her new home.
Linda had not changed much from twelve years ago. There was a profound sadness and maturity in her eyes, yet the rest was relatively the same. She still ran the kitchen of the tourist inn. They recognized each other instantly when they gazed upon one another.
Linda had read in a poem by Neruda, "How short can love be, yet how long it is to forget." A lone tear ran down her face as the adjacent waterfall laughed in glee.
When the heart knows, that is enough. No need to work so hard to create the illusion of happiness. The happiness felt within is genuine and changes in form. Be it from simple contentment, to overflowing joy. On the opposite spectrum, the pain can be gut wretchedly deep.
Linda had had a crash course on both emotions, on a very genuine and profound level. As she sat under the shade of a tree to contemplate her situation; she concluded that she had no regrets. They had loved each other intensely for the duration of two months, and she loved him still. She would harbor the good memories, and harbor the life which resided within.
Now she had to break the news to her parents, and face the reality that Phillip might not ever know of her condition. Since he’d abruptly left two weeks ago, she had not heard from him at all. Phillip had gone back home due to an emergency he had been told.
Linda hugged her knees and nestled her face between those, as the festive waterfall drowned her heartfelt sobs. Even so, the pain was so deep, that it alarmed the birds, monkeys and fauna. They were exalted and alarmed by the grief racking Linda's body as it trembled as if she were dying of excruciating pain.
-“I should not be telling you this son, but you don’t have to do this.” Clare said this to Phillip as he was eating his breakfast. This would be the last day he was living under Clare’s roof. He was getting married later that day.
-“How can I not mother? Cindy is pregnant with my child. How can I make my child a bastard? I just can’t do that.” Phillip said this with the resolution of a man that must face a formidable challenge.
Grasping his hand, Clare tried one more time to dissuade Phillip from making the biggest mistake of his life. –“Phillip you can be a father and be there always for your child, without having to marry the mother. I know that is contradicts tradition and the church, but I know that is not the woman for you! Look how even at this stage she is using the baby to hijack you into submission. She is refusing to sign a prenuptial, knowing that either way, you feel obligated to marry her, and in the event things don’t work out, she will grab a lot of money.
It’s still not too late Phillip to back out. Remember that, and for the records, I don’t give a damn for convention.” Clare said persuasively.
The sunlight filtered into the court room that afternoon. The solemnity of the place gave the caricature of the event an egregious savor. As he observed Cindy’s malicious and triumphant gleam in her eyes, Phillip had the sinking sensation that he was leasing his life to a long prison term.
With pain in his heart he agreed to marry; he was sorry that he was not marrying the girl that he had come to genuinely love.
As they were declared husband and wife, and he took Cindy into his arms to kiss her, he closed his eyes and for a moment he imagined he was kissing Linda instead.
Time can stand still in an abstract sense, when we refuse to end the moment at hand, and one becomes acutely aware of such a transcendental moment in our lives. These rare occasions - with so far and few in between - can elevate one to the sublime. An hour, perhaps two can be perceived as just a fraction of that traversed time.
When two soul mates unite, can it be any more splendorous? Such a joyous occasion to celebrate in our hearts! For we walk for years and decades like ambulating zombies on the ardours path of life.
On a visceral level, we fully understand that the search for The One is on, and the comfort and bliss found in those arms, makes it simply all worthwhile. Everything. Every trial and tribulation, every heartache, every tear shed, every achievement, and even those long journeys brought one to that very moment. The present moment.
Perhaps it's destiny. Perhaps is an overdue reward. Phillip knew it the moment he took Linda in his arms. Not with primal lust or lascivious intentions, although inexorably it simmered to that point. The natural desire to be close and explore each's territory was a natural derivative of the existing mutual spark from beyond.
Moral restrictions, racial divides, social diversity, had no plan in the Palace of Delight. There was nothing turbid or shameful. Linda instinctively knew that she would not let this magical moment pass. Even if there was no tomorrow for them, they had this memorable moment to sustain them for a lifetime.
She felt such an affinity towards Phillip, that was more than a crush. And besides, she was old enough now to learn of the pleasure of the flesh. She was not the most popular girl in the region, thanks to her limp. If Phillip did not mind her lesion, why did she have to give up on this wondrous moment in her life?
Regardless of her impediment, she was a very passionate girl. She was passionate about life, about nature, her family, and learning secrets which few where privy to. The native tribes had adopted her, for they saw the beauty if her spirit, and she had in time made fast friends with the wise men of those clans.
Looking deeply into each other's eyes, there was no thought to questions or doubt. They were both entranced by each other. As they swam towards the shore, they lay atop a bed of leaves to explore one another, with the wondrous curiosity of a child. They resumed their tender kissing, which escalated in intensity of passionate heat, and intensity, into a flaring hunger to posses and to yield.
Instinct guided where lack of experience lacked. Linda responded with rapturous delight to Phillip's ministrations, as he traced her face and body as an artist's brush paints every minuscule detail of the anatomy - sparing none. She in kind, reciprocated with ardent expediency,and wandering caresses and shameless kisses - everywhere. Looking into his beautiful eyes, clear and honest like the sky - she was not afraid. They became one in body, and soul. For that rapturous moment, time stood still, and joy abound.
She was glad for once, that she was a woman now. Her lesion did not impede her from offering her silky breasts, ripe and fresh like fuzzy peaches which abound in July - for his nourishment and delight. She was glad that she had round hips so that he could hold on to them, as if he were steering the wheel of a ship. Her legs wrapped firmly around him and guided him to her, to cleave the ripened fruit glistening under the sun. Deeper, and deeper as if plowing for unknown secrets, until the mind shut down and ceased to function temporarily, and the senses took full domain of the body, as it convulsed like fish out of water.
Linda looked up at the sun with open eyes. Her vision was blurred by the harsh light and stars. Afterwards, she realized, that her body has responded well. She was happy to be alive, and happy to have Phillip in her arms, and still inside.
As the sun abated its furious intensity for the afternoon, their passion as well abated in turn. They held hands as they waded into the crystal clear waters to clean up. Linda felt different; she was a woman now. The blood between her legs which the nurturing lagoon dissolved, and soothed like a salve her still palpitating wound, was testimony to this.
Man creates an artificial paradise, populating it with things that will distract the mind, and rob precious time. Yet, underneath it all, the commercial mechanism is always churning, with a hawk eye on the profit margins, and not on the perceived value served.
When does the line become a blur between what is real and what is false? What can make one feel truly alive? The cigarette and liquor high is short lived, and can bring detrimental consequences. Casual sex can also give a spectacular rush, if there is a sufficient mutual spark.
Phillip mulled over this as he decided that it was best in his introspective phase, to let the guard down and tranquil the mind. This relinquishing control of the psych, simply allowed the Self to find the absolutely perfect solution.
Phillip silenced his mind by turning the dial to the off position for the lapse of thirty minutes. He allowed his body to float without any course or intent - mindless, as the cascading waterfall, laughed merrily.
Phillip closed his eyes and reveled in the sun’s caress, as the cool water nestled him in her loving arms and lap, while she gently rocked him, and buffeted the external noises. Playfully, she ocassionally lapped at his earlobes teasingly. Soon, Phillip was induced to a trance-like state.
Phillip reached such a state of internal joy that radiated pure energy which merged with the clear sky, the verdant hills, the sun, and beyond. To galaxies light-years away, and to commute in peace with nature, and the plethora of species inhabiting this small, ailing paradise we call earth. Temporarily, Phillip merged into the lane which connects to all.
Linda sat complacently on the edge of the secluded lagoon; she called the Garden of Eden. She was content to contemplate the wonders of nature, this included Phillip. He made the perfect accessory to this garden of paradise, a testimony to the generosity of God in the creation of such a beautiful specimen of man.
Lured to a languid state of inertia, Linda decided to jump into the water as well. As was customary, she kept her underwear on, and glided into the arms of the cool water topless. Her nubile body in perfect harmony with nature, was at ease with her partial nudity. Her mahogany nipples became erect when the cool water gently supported her breasts, and wet her entirely, like a giant tongue licking a manila envelope.
Phillip’s connection was broken, when he sensed Linda near him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw that she swam towards to waterfall, and back, towards him. Her bright smile and merry eyes spoke to him, even before she reached him.
They splashed and played like playful dolphins for the rest of the afternoon.
The same concept can be applied when one lets the heart proceed, instead of the intellect.
The mechanisms of love are difficult to decipher, yet sometimes, when one quiets the mind, the heart speaks eloquently. In the middle of paradise, it was proper homage to such grace, to celebrate being alive and full of vitality- with a soulful kiss on the lips, and a grateful heart for such an opportunity.
-"If it's meant to be, it will happen. Trust me darling, you are free to seek your true mate." Clare attempted to console Phillip.
-"I've decided to take a brake from it all mother. I am taking a year's hiatus from dating and school. I am leaving as soon as my semester is over." Phillip announced to Clare.
-"Where are you going Phillip?"
-"I am going to the Amazon jungle, and to various countries of South America."
-"So far? And isn't it dangerous Phillip?" Clare asked with alarm registered in her eyes.
-"As you've recently mentioned mother, 'If it is meant to be, it will happen.' Everyday when I awake, I trust in the good Lord that it will be a good day. So, don't fret. I feel that I really need this experience, and besides some of my friends will join me later on to visit the carnival in Rio, and Antarctica region. Relax mother; I am a man now, and I need to see the wonders of the world for myself."
After a month's travel, Phillip's appearance was almost unrecognizable from the well-groomed, and studious young man he personified. His hair was long, and he had stopped shaving. He only trimmed his beard when it became so overgrown as to become a nuisance. His milky-white skin was now tanned to a deep golden hue, like burnished 18 karat gold when the beads of perspiration reflected a light sheen upon his form. The golden gleam of his skin, deeply contrasted with his blue eyes, as if one had found two aquamarine jewels strewn carelessly on the surface of the hot desert sand, by mere chance.
The amazon jungle was alive and vibrant with lush flora, and exotic species, grotesque, yet, so very beautiful for their uniqueness and rarity. It was a splendorous, orchestrated production. The cascading waterfalls, exotic birds, and mischievous monkeys, created a tumulous chorus, as each sang above the other, in the effort to be supreme.
The heat was perpetually humid, as if one were sprayed by a fine midst continuously which caused the clothing to attached itself to the body as a second skin.
Phillip felt more alive and closer to his primal nature. The regulations and protocols he's always adhered to, were irrelevant in this naked and raw patch of land which had been spared from the crass, and tasteless commercialism. It was as close to the beginning of time, as could ever be. Where the fittest were predators, yet everyone lived in relative harmony, and complete freedom - until the next day.
Life was certainly not to be taken for granted by the creatures who roamed about freely. Perhaps, they did not fully understand the depth of their plight, yet, did it truly matter, when they lived everyday to its fullest potential? They lived for the moment, no past, nor future mattered, just the simple delight of the sun's caress, and the thankful joy to fill the belly for the day.
The locals were friendly, and full of joie de vivre. Life was simple and uncomplicated. Survival and tending to the basic necessities became imperative. The rest, was not given the escalated import of the industrialized places.
Phillip enjoyed the straw hut where he was staying for a while. It was built above ground, and closeted by fine woven nets to keep the mosquitoes, and giant bullet ants out.
Linda, the owner's daughter always managed to disperse a sweet smile to everyone, even as she hurried with a noticeable limp to cook, and serve the buffet.
Linda was barely twenty, and her skin glistened with the burnish of a mahogany table. Her eyes were as deep and dark as the night, yet seemed so wise and kind. Her frequent smile was serene, yet, radiated a light from within. One did not notice her slight limp, when one focused on her beautiful and serene face.
She had learned English in school, as it was needed in the hospitality industry. She was also able to communicate in basic french, fluent Spanish, and the local dialects. Over the weeks, Phillip and Linda had become fast friends, as there was little to do at night, except to listen to the noise of crescendoing chorus of the crickets.
Phillip joined the other guests for breakfast, and dinner, at the resorts buffet. On one such night, Linda had promised to take Phillip to an exercusion that was not traveled by the tour guides. It was the garden of Eden she had called it.
-“Mother, with all due respect, you have to stop meddling in my private life. I am sorry you were treated that way, but you brought this upon yourself. Please note that nothing you say about Cindy will deter me from dating her. I am in love with her, and I intend to pursue her.”
-“Phillip, Cindy is a very beautiful girl – externally. But as Plato describes it, beauty is not a thing you perceive with the eyes, as much as it is the pure essence of beauty. ‘It is not of the flesh, and it is everlasting, which never ages or fades.’
I merely hope that you will make the right choice based on your heart, not on your…primal instincts.” Clare said duly chastised.
Love can blind, by selectively focusing on the sterling qualities of the beloved, while ignoring the obvious ugliness.
Phillip and Cindy had been together almost three years, and the pressure was on him to make the romance a formal affair. Phillip intended to continue with higher education, and felt it was not the time to get engaged yet. Yet, perhaps subconsciously the thrill of the chase was gone. When one spent enough time with another, one got to see them through various prisms of light, and then those subtler tones become known.
Late one night on the way back from a soiree, Phillip suddenly stopped the car to listen with undisturbed rapture to Ravel’s Bolero, playing on the radio.
-“Hello, why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?”A tipsy Cindy inquired.
-“I love this melody; let’s just hold hands while we listen to it.” Phillip offered.
-“There’s not even any lyrics to it!” Cindy whined.
-“Listen, just listen to it. I love this piece because it makes my heart dance. My soul rejoices as this melody triggers, deep-seated memory genes hardwired into my DNA of a time long past. From the time of my ancestors, who bravely answered to the drum beat which heralded the initiation of epic battles. Of a time long ago, where men were brave, loyal, and daring, and risked much to construct the world as we know it now. Where life was short lived; therefore every day alive was fully appreciated, loves were passionately cherished, and each day was lived to the fullest!
In the flute and in the sensual rhythms underlying it, I can see in my mind’s eye, exotic beautiful women dancing the dance of the seven veils. With their come-hither eyes, and undulating hips, they made powerful men weak, and enslaved them to delirious passion. They danced for their lives, and fortunes.
This melody was created in the celestial spheres, and it came to Ravel upon a dream for mankind to celebrate the sheer joy of being alive!” Phillip said enraptured by the melody.
-“You're crazy, do you know that? I don’t like this crappy music, and it’s going on like forever!” Cindy said annoyingly, as she pulled her hand away from his grasp.
After several minutes, where Cindy’s intolerance of his musical choice was palpable. Phillip suggested the following: -“If you can’t stand this music Cindy, you are welcome to step outside until it’s over.”
Nothing negative that his mother or friends would have said about Cindy, shattered his tolerance for her idiosyncrasies, or disillusioned Phillip - as her repulsiveness of the sublime.
