With love, from
A poem in front of me;
A drink in my hand.
Will ever my life be more,
than but a memory of you?
To she who would not have me;
the wise and wonderful, Marie
"No stone is so precious,
nor beauty so fair
as the girl of my dreams;
my love, my sweet Marie."
A long time ago, beyond the mountains of dreams, in the valley of enchantment,
lived a princess fair whose heart was true. She walked through her
realm like a light passes through a crystal. And a rainbow was her
It is said, such was her presence, she often stopped any turmoil in the
street as she passed the marketplace. One day, as she was walking
by, two men were having a violent disagreement. She stood and watched
them. When they eventually noticed her, she calmly asked them what
the problem was. Both men looked at her and then at each other with
a puzzled expression. Neither of them could recall what they had
been arguing about only moments before. They walked away together
and never again did an unkind word pass between them.
People have many such tales and would never cease speaking of their princess,
had the tales not become sad. The sadness came, as it often comes
in similar tales, in the form of a stranger. The stranger was a handsome
prince from far away, who had heard of this strange and wonderful princess
and her subtle beauty.
Subtle too, were the prince's efforts to win the princess' affections.
He did not approach her at all, but did good deeds throughout the kingdom
until he was much beloved by the populace. The princess admired this
foreign prince for he was charming and kind and shared much knowledge from
lands of which her people knew not. Everyone said they should meet,
and so they did. At a festival in the spring beneath a full moon,
they fell in love.
They fell to their deaths from off the castle wall. No. They didn't.
Perhaps, they should have. Perhaps, they should have died while they
were happy; Died together in a tragic accident before all their neighbors.
The people of the kingdom, instead, saw their princess move away from them.
She went with the prince to his kingdom far away, but alas, they did not
live happily ever after. The prince seemed to change once he got
home. He was a hunter and loved more the chase than the prize.
His subjects immediately fell in love with the princess as her subjects
had done before them. Far from being pleased, the prince was jealous
of the princess' popularity exceeding his own. He forbade
the princess to leave the castle and he taxed the citizenry for their adoration
of her (though he gave another excuse).
The people paid because the prince owned the land they farmed. The
princess obeyed because she still loved the prince. Maybe she felt
sorry for him or maybe it was only habit. Maybe it was only commitment,
perhaps it was fear of being alone and... he did try to please her sometimes.
Anyway, she felt it was love and knew that, in his way, he loved her.
But merely keeping the princess home did not quell the prince's jealousy.
The prince soon grew upset by the most meager attention shown to the princess
by her servants and forbade their presence. He had all the servants
banished from the princess' service. The princess spent her
days alone -when not accompanied by the prince. These days were too
many and she fell into a deep despair.
Physicians and men of science were want to disagree, but fact is the princess
died of a broken heart within that year. Likewise was it later
disputed that said year was the worst (for both weather and internal strife)
that the kingdom had ever known. Such was never doubted at the time.
These men of science would also assert the moans heard throughout the castle
were "but the breeze flowing through the passages". The prince's
restless evenings were due only to his uneasy conscience (regarding fiscal
policy, of course) and his testicles were severed in a bizarre shaving
accident, but the people know the princess yet walks.
Confined to the castle she finally punished the prince as he slept for
crimes he had committed while awake. For, though she could have done
no such thing in life, in death, she was compelled to avenge the evil wrought
upon so many by the selfishness of but one.
The Cold in your eyes
has frozen my heart;
It can let no other enter,
and nothing can leave.
It feels only unending
unrequited love for you.
So now. Marie,
I go to sleep,
perchance to dream
If naught else.
in slumber's realm
I may find respite
from these worries
which beset me.
Beauty in the waves;
Beauty in your eyes;
My thoughts caress
like the waves caress
and I yearn
my waters o'er you
as I yearn
to cool myself
in the wetness
of your passion.
Oh, this ocean is beautiful
and oh, how it reminds me of you.
O so jealous
of the smoke
you take inside
with deep longing
Talk to me, sweet Marie.
Help me not to love too much.
Teach me not to hurt nobody.
At least, have a drink with me,
oh, please Marie...
In My Dreams
How often I have touched you
as you squirm beneath me.
and my hands loose your breasts
as you buck so wildly,
And I wonder;
are you so lost
or do you pull away inside yourself;
inside memories that I can never touch.
I can tie you down.
and you like that sometimes,
but that will only
keep your body here
your passions soar so far above me.
I have conversations
in my mind;
for, there I hear
you answer me...
and that is new;
we say little face to face
(perhaps we lost the nerve)
and your letters never come.
I saw you again last night;
again, I was in bed, sleeping.
You were with another,
But still I dreamt I saw you
and that was nice.
You were in a hurry.
Still, we bantered,
like we always did;
And though I said
rude things about you,
I love you still.
born of loneliness,
and too many
that make me
I've seen a
or fairy, perhaps,
to blade among
(known as men)
and makes them
and hope to
for just a
and then you're
I need a hug.
"She struts into the room. Well, I don't know her." That line
from a song is the first thing I think about when I think of Marie.
The song begins with a lone, bluesy guitar and that was my mood on the
day I first met Marie. I sat at the bar, nursing a rum and coke and
a broken heart, thinking, if I can't drown my troubles, I can, at least,
take them for a swim.
I turned to see her as she sauntered in and said, "How's it goin',bud?"
to a couple of regulars. The voice was light, like the bounce in
her step, but a bit raspy and sultry like the old Lauren Bacall movies
I remembered; or, at least I heard Marie's voice that way. The sweater
she wore seemed more for warmth and comfort than to enhance her figure.
She needed little enhancement. She wore very little makeup and, instead
of smelling like cheap perfume, she brought a freshness like clean linen
and baking soda into the dive. I felt like I was In an Irish folk
She ordered a beer and asked me what I was thinking about. The small,
friendly blonde with the wholesome look brought Doris Day to mind and I
tried to think of what James Garner would say. She said I was thinking
too hard and invited me to play pool. Of course, I accepted.
The wide smile that absorbed most of her squarish face and those sparkling
green eyes made me fall off the barstool anyway.
She didn't play well, but didn't need to in order to beat me severely.
"You let me win, bud." she said.
"I don't beat strange women." I replied.
"Does that mean you beat friends?" she asked.
She laughed often, but freely and honestly, not derisively. After the game,
she chuckled that, perhaps, we should play partners.
Another couple had been watching us, and Marie asked if I minded.
"Of course not," I replied.
She introduced us and asked if the couple would care to play. They
accepted and we passed a pleasant afternoon with Phil and Donna.
They were a young married couple and had been shopping for a house.
Phil, a tall, thin, dark man, was a vacationing supervisor from a local
factory. Donna, a petite brunette, attractively but conservatively
dressed, was an evening telephone operator on her night off.
After a couple of games, Marie excused herself and said she had to leave
in order to shop for her aunt. Phil, Donna and I returned to the
bar and continued talking. None of us had ever been in a bar so long
without getting drunk. We had spent so much time laughing, talking
and playing pool, we hadn't done much drinking. The bartender, noticing
my glass was empty, asked if I'd like another. I said no to the drink,
but I thought, yeah, I think I'm ready for another.
In my dreams,
I think of you.
I realize it's so;
Even when I can't recall
For, my mood is caustic
and my memories
Sometimes, I even
the good I see
will ever I hear
Thy voice again?
Perhaps, but when
I close mine eyes.
Write no more;
no eyes shall see it;
Thy words of torment,
thy participles of strife.
Send lovers screaming,
send editors to hell
with words of mine
and thoughts of you
forever on my mind.
light of my dreams,
and demon of my nightmares,
you are my highest aspiration
and the darkest depth
to which I can sink.
The song playing is Alice Cooper's,
"Be My Lover". It was found at Alice-Vincent.net.
to the Richard LeBlanc Index
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