Beautiful Chicago....

Now

I taste the salt in the air as the cool wind blows through my hair…. I lean my head back to let the sun caress my skin… I feel the sand at my feet, between my toes. I lay back and let the water wash over me lightly. I feel reborn with each wave under the blue sky. I am lost in the calm of the water, the sound of the waves, and the way it makes me feel. Who knew I could feel this way… I can finally see what I could not see before; everything seems so simple, so right. I do not feel alone, I feel loved, and I feel at peace.

Belly Dancer

The lights were dim…only with some spotlight…


The aroma of tobacco flavored smoke filled my lungs and the room…

Surrounded by some drinking coffee, some wine and of course some are sipping something stronger…

The band was playing…the beats…I feel it in my chest, in my hips…in my heart….

I close my eyes I let the colors, the smoke, and the music overtake me…

I can get lost, hypnotized in it all…. I can forget where I am, who I am, why I am…

There is no yesterday, no tomorrow… just today, just this moment in time…

Forbidden....

I walk in the banquet hall and I smell that familiar smell that brings me back to simpler times, to exciting times (I breath it all in … like the first day of Autumn) and I see him there leaning against the bar smoking his cigarette in that care free way…savoring each inhale and exhale with such charm and ease.


I do love a man that smokes cigarettes; it is intriguing to me for some reason (not because it so forbidden these days) that has always been a weakness of mine, especially any dark demeanor and a man that can handle drinking some hard liquor. I only see him but once a year but it is always the same feeling I get… no matter what is going on in my life…I guess it will always be there…a little piece of my heart…


I can’t just walk up to him? Can I? Why the hell not…? (My internal struggle…)


I walk up to him trying to emit the same charm… all I got is my smile…I have never had that look… that sexy not give a shit look that so many people can carry … so I work with what I got… I lean right next to him and not say a word…I don’t look at him… He turns to me with his dark hair and dark eyes holding his cigarette in his sexy way… “How are you?” I say, “I am doing well how about you?” “He replies, “Good, good… you looking good…” His smile and his dark eyes staring intensely at me… Hmmm… he is trying to gage my reaction… I can be cool sometimes… I say, “Thanks, so why you just hanging out here and not inside with the others…waiting for me?” He takes a puff of his cigarette and says, “Of course, my dear.” (I like a man that keeps up with my wit…) I reply, “Good let’s have a drink and we can go inside…” He orders me…I say something strong, because I love these functions…. He orders me a “Rusty Nail” … On an empty stomach that is pretty much enough to get the party started … I take the drink…I drink it with such yearning as if it is the first drink of water I had all day… (The people inside would assume this is very un-lady-like…I was never one to impress and I had to do things on my own terms)… He extends his arm and I grab another drink and into the fire we go…

Being

I walk in and I take a deep breath…
I smell candles burning and the flames dancing on the walls.
All my thoughts are of the future, of how nice it will be… I cannot concentrate on anything else.
Friends and family are all around and all I can do is concentrate on the flame of the candles in the room.
I let myself get mesmerized and taken away by the candles and by my thoughts…
I close my eyes breathe it all in and then open my eyes to concentrate…
I concentrate so hard that I almost succumb to its power…
I catch myself to prevent myself from falling…
I hear my friend calling to me, trying to get my attention but I don’t want to be bothered…
I just want to be lost in myself, in my thoughts…
Finally, finally, happy to be me…
Not afraid of the dark… not afraid of being alone…

The Cafe

I sit staring out the cafe window, just staring out at the snow covered grass, as the cars drive by... I sit reflecting on my life, on the past, present, and the future. What will it bring? Where will I be? Who will be in it? Will the things that fill our days, thoughts, and dreams be the same, or will they be seen as insignificant? Will the pain and sorrows be the same? Will we shed the same tears? Will the same things bring us joy? Will we yearn for the past or just glad that the past is the past? Do people change just as the snow melts allowing us to see the green again? Are these just caffeine induced thoughts or do others wonder the same things? These lazy thoughts and writings help to clear the mind as I watch the cars drive by...

Glass...

I like having a pen and paper around to document my thoughts, anything that can take my mind off you... I concentrate on the glass that is set before me. The thoughts of you are haunting me... I wish my mind was as clear as the glass. My heart is full of yearning, my eyes are filled with tears, and my soul is full of despair… Why... Why? My mind is consumed… I look down; I did not notice the warm blood running down my hand from the shattered glass that I must have shattered in my haste of loving you...

The Cold...

I woke up from a deep sleep.
It was so dark, so lonely.
I felt so cold…down to my soul.
I tried to light a fire and pulled up all the covers but to no avail.
Would this feeling ever subside?
I just sat there trying to calm myself, tried to think of a beach, of better days.
Still nothing…
I decided that it was something…
Could I have woken up to the truth…that was my life?
This is not what I have been dreaming of when I was a little girl. This is it. I can’t wait to see how life will be when I grow up. I am already there. I guess I have been searching and yearning for something better. I just woke to the reality…
I finally fell back to sleep…
I woke up again this time, but this time it was still dark but then my eyes readjusted and I saw this hand reaching out towards me. I don’t usually take chances but this time I did. I took the hand and I let it touch my soul. I felt goose bumps all over but it made me feel safe. I felt a warm breath in my ear and a sweet whisper, “You are not alone, and I am confused too. If you let me we can find out the truth, together.”

The Door...

The nervousness envelopes my entire being …my soul
It is getting hard for me to swallow…to breathe
Then shaking…the cold sweat…
The anticipation of it…feels like everything is closing in…
My hand stretched out… I just stopped… I did not want to turn the door knob…
I did not want to deal with what was behind it….
Should I just turn around?
Run away like always?
I look up… into the rain…
Letting it wash over me…
Let it cleanse my soul… wash away the pain…the fear…
I turn my head… I see you in the distance…
As you walk closer…I see the concern in your eyes…
I can see that you understand what I am feeling…
You understand me…
You do not say a word…you smile…
Stretching out your hand…
I grasp your hand…
It gives me courage, peace and contentment….
Now the door…
Together…

Just One Day…

One day can change everything…

Sometimes the rain triggers my memories of that one summer…of him…of life that could have been….

I felt the cold rain drops on my head, on my face, in my eyes. The train was leaving for Germany and I had to say my goodbyes quickly. He looked at me…we hugged and did the euro kiss. His hug lingered a little long and I saw something different in his dark eyes. Looking into his eyes gave me an uneasy feeling, but with a smile I said, "We will meet each other again, if it is meant to be…" I watched him get on that train and I knew that I would be leaving for America the next day… I waited as I promised, he sat in the seat by the window, and I was drawn to the window. With a smile, I put my hand against the window, he did the same pressing his hand against mine and said, "I love you…" I saw that look again…Something hit me like a brick…did I miss something…I never knew…All I could do was stand there with that stupid look on my face with the rain streaming down my face and down the window. I took my hand away and watched that train leave taking my heart with it…I did not move…how could I not realize what was happening? Did the friendship that I had once known turn to something else? I guess I had always known but I was too stubborn to notice it any sooner…I just don't take life too seriously…why should I was on vacation not asking for anything… Could I go back in time and change anything?

Fast-forward 10 years…I go back to visit my family, knowing that he is there…
I see him…I feel like I have been stabbed through the heart …I just watch…he has not changed much the years have been kind. However his eyes look older and his face has lost that joy that I had once known. He sees me and calls out to me and again I see that look in his eyes…we hug and I feel his hot breath on my cheek in my ear. My feelings still the same after all these years? Life is different now…. I see what could have been…I see what I could have had… Twist that knife into my heart a little deeper….

Fast-forward another 10 years…I see him in Chicago…Could we finally have what we want? Or was it always what he wanted and I just wanted the romantic idea of what could have been? That is a question that I will have to ask myself, the question that I had to live with all these years. However, should I take the chance now that my youth has faded along with my inhibitions…?

A wise friend once told me… "Life moves on and all you can do is learn from it...."

A tree grows in the 70s…

Disclaimer….this story is not true…just fiction…inspired by one of my plastic fruit trees from the 70s.

A tree grows in the 70s…

A long time ago when the world was simpler…there was a tree that grew in the 70s. It was plastic with plastic oranges and lemons. A family cherished the tree because it reminded them of what kind of possibilities lay ahead of them in America.

I will spare you all of the pictures of me in front of this tree; however, I wanted to write the story of the tree...We no longer have this infamous tree, so I feel that it is important to keep this tree alive. This tree has haunted my dreams lately and I have not been able to sleep so I am compelled to write this story.

The sun was shining brightly, not a cloud in the sky. A man was walking down the street in a torn and tattered shirt with plaid bell-bottoms. He was misunderstood from the start, especially in this ensemble, along with his dark skin, accent and comb over. Prejudice exists in all forms…. people look at you like you are scum, like a piece of crap. What can you do? Should we fight for what we believe in? Or should we just sit there and take it? Do we know whom to trust? We can trust a little but 100%, I don’t think so…do people really stab us in the back all the while smiling in our faces?

This man does not think like this…he maintains his integrity and does what he thinks is right and works hard to prove that his move to America was the right thing to do. He continues to tiredly to walk down the street squinting from the bright sun all the while looking for something to tell him that he has done the right thing. He sees a sign in the window of a restaurant that reads; “Now hiring” his eyes light up with anticipation because cooking is his passion. He sees a nice older gentleman with kind eyes and inquires about the job. The bell-bottomed fellow explains his past experience of cooking in Italy and explains how his knowledge will be of value to the store. The older gentleman agrees to give him the job. The bell-bottomed fellow feels alive and finally feels like he is doing right by his family. He goes home and tells his wife about the great day he has and she smiles and gives him a hug… “Our luck has finally changed”

Fast-forward 5 years. He is no longer the bell-bottomed fellow because it is now the 80s and the bell-bottoms have disappeared along with disco. (Oh well!) We will refer to him as the man with no name. The man with no name has been waking up every morning rain or shine working through sickness and pain for this kind fellow (the manager). He does not have a car and dredges through it all for his family. The man with no name takes pride in his work and receives accolades from customers and vendors regarding his hard work and dedication regarding his dishes and his creations. One day his manager asks him to train a young man…which turns out to be the manager’s cousin…the man with no name does this with great pride because he likes the young man and wants to make sure that this young man receives all of the knowledge that he can give him. “If you do good things, good things will come to you.” This is what the man with no name says to his young daughter.

Hmmmm…..fast-forward one year. The sun is shining brightly and the man with no name sees the sun as all the possibilities that America has laid in front of him. He walks in to find his manager in front of him with a distraught look on his face and hands him an envelope. The manager asks the man with no name to sit down on this raggedy chair and begins to tell him that he has to be let go because “his business is not doing so good”. The man with no name genuinely feels sorry for his manager and accepts the envelope with a handshake and hugs and wishes him all the best. The manager is touched by the man with no name’s genuine display of caring and says wait right here. The manager leaves and returns with a Plastic Tree of Oranges and Lemons. The manager says please take this home with you. The man with no name looks at him and says, “Thank you” and leaves with his last check and tree. While he is leaving he sees the cousin working wearing his old apron and he feels a pain in his heart…does he think that he has been lied to…yes he does but what can he do…. along with his sweet gullible-ness he has a bad temper. He does all he can do not to go back in there and beat them up for taking food out of his family’s mouth.

During this internal struggle, calmness washes over the man with no name and he thinks to himself that all will be well again because he has learned something and if you do good things, good things will come to you. The man with no name walks home dragging this tree with him the entire way and tells his wife (unknowingly to the mother and father their oldest daughter is listening to the story)…his wife is distraught and cries because she saw this coming and could not break it to her husband…why hurt his pride…he was 25 years older and the man of the house…he should know better. “We will get through this as a family…” The man with no name takes this tree and places it proudly in their apartment…he tells his daughter again… “Do good things and good things will come to you.”

The morale of the story is … don’t let others bring you down with their plastic words and smiles…forget those that give you lemons and if there is nothing you can do about being squeezed the key is knowing that you are being squeezed and always think of the oranges that life will bring your way. All you can do is what is right in your heart and go with it….“Do good things and good things will come to you.”

Why must it always be the Rain?

Why must it always be the Rain?

Others run from it.
Others love it.
Others cherish it with their entire being.
Others need it.
Others crave it.
The cold rain has rejuvenating powers.
The hot leaves you breathless.
It pushes you against the wall.
It penetrates your entire soul.
Some fight it.
Some don’t mind it.
Some…
Anticipation of the end is all some yearn.
When it comes it brings the sunshine.
Hmmmm…just something about it….

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