City of Legends

I wrote a poem today to a friend.  Yes, a female friend.  No, not that "Sunday girl" everyone is bitching at me for writing so much about and now won’t be able to figure out of they are disappointed in me or relieved because I wrote of someone else.  Give me a break, I wrote "the Goldenheart Cycles" in the midst of my affair with the Panther.

How about both?

I am not so absurd as to assume because I have written a few…er…a few dozen…ell, maybe a hundred poems about someone (White Sunday) that their feelings in any way reciprocate mine.  I have learned the lesson many times in many ways that, even with a public commitment (ahem, you know who I am talking to)  affections are tenuous.  I am, to some degree, certain that the next time a woman says "I love you" in that way, I will have a hard time believing her.  I hate developing a bit of a rind, but I think I have done remarkably well, all things considered, at holding my head up over the aeons.

I digress.  Again.  Nice to know some things do not change.

The relationship between myself and "White Sunday" is an absurdity of its own flavour, and one I am not of a mood to explain.  In her I find all that I like in a woman…and all that has complicated my relationships with other women.  I have leapt from higher cliffs on longer odds and shorter bets.  But I admit we are still in the "courting" stage, and the odds do not favour me.

But there are other women whose companies I enjoy.  No, not that way, keep your mind out of the gutter.  I have been a strangely good boy for quite some time, which seems to frustrate a few people.  Tough.  This is my game, I am playing by my rules for my purposes.  I mean to exchange writings and to draw inspiration from. 

Earlier today I was once again struck by a certain friend who is overwhelmingly beautiful, and creative.  So I warned her I was going to write her a poem…which I did.  It is called "I do not chase the wind" and it about not going after woman who are impossible to win.  I think of the poem and I smile, as it is both true and ridiculous.  I have won the heart of more than one woman in my life who was beyond me, out of reach, impossible.  From the brilliant and beautiful Psyche, to the alpha-Amazon Valkyrie, to the lingerie-model lesbian Leopard to the creative, sensuous and quite-distant Aubergine, there is a spectrum of madness there…on my part.

Even at this time in my life, I still seek, not anyone, but the one.  The person I can live out my life with, even if the ride sometimes gets bumpy and crazy.  We’ll see what happens over the next few years.  I figure it will take about two years to see what is to become of me in that realm.

In the meantime, enjoy the new poem, "I do not chase the wind":

I do not chase the wind
for it cannot be caught
and after I have fought
my way to the mountaintop
there would be no way to go
but down.

I do not chase the wind
for dreams are for their time
and I am wise, if past my prime,
and know how not to make an ass
of myself by thinking above the waist
sometimes.

I do not chase the wind
for it is but a metaphor
or five or six for the war
between the soul and the flesh
damned to fail and wail at rainbows
"Not fair!"

I do not chase the wind
for it would not be fair,
although if I would dare,
she might find me swift of foot,
carrying my golden apples of
poetry.

William F. DeVault.  all rights reserved.