Show me your real face.
Show me your real face.
I loved the Monterey bay.
I would bring my beer and whiskey to the Pacific,
I would write into my journal, drink the cold beer slowly,
I watched the sun fall into the sea.
The sea brought the lonely to seek quiet and I left the other strangers alone.
I would burn the white sage and drink alone.
Once I need company of another.
Now I was happy to befriend the sea and the moon.
The midnight half-moon was shining above me and I told her.
No lies to tell tonight,
only you and I.
Drinking the Johnnie Walker and seeking some calmness.
I had a good cigar,
I lite her and I tasted the strong taste of the Cuba best.
I went to the sea and I tossed off my shoes.
I danced with the Pacific.
I went to my beer and the whiskey,
I sat down and I observed the rising moon.
I heard a voice,
pretty Nadia eyed me and she asked.
Could you light my cigarette, dark poet?
I knew her, the quiet poet.
Her eyes always looked away from people,
she would read her poetry, rarely looked at the faces of the people.
I left her alone, I saw the deepness of great sadness in her eyes.
Her poetry was of Bosnian, her escape and her hellish life lived.
I knew. Some pain is very hard to forget.
I lite her cigarette and I offered her a Cuba cigar and a beer.
She smiled oddly and she said. I am bad company dark poet.
I do like the Johnny walker and I like the Cuba cigars.
When she talks to me, she looked away toward the dancing sea.
I smiled and I told her. I like the silence too, The damn demons do haunt me.
The sea allowed me to fall into her. Forget the past and wish and dream.
Maybe final ending for us seeking little.
She sat near me and I gave her a cigar and I poured her a shot of the whiskey into a glass.
I poured myself one and we touched glasses. A silence toast and we drank. She looked at me
and she whispered. I love the sea. California is far away from Bosnian, but I don’t feel safe,
I don’t like people too much. They want to take and take from me. I am so tire of giving
everything away.
I looked at her beautiful face, I touched gently and I told her.
Show me your real face, show me your sadness, show me the hidden pain.
Today we can smoke the Cuba cigars, drink the second bottle of Johnnie walker in my truck.
Maybe we can dance for the goddess of the sea.
Maybe a second of mercy. Dear Nadia, we do bleed and you have not bled-out yet.
We must go forward, accept the past and create new and better days.
She looked at me and she whispered. If you show me your scars, I will show my scars.
Are you brave enough to accept a angry woman? I laughed at her words and I told her.
I was once the angriest man in Monterey. The kind California people and the Pacific.
Made me become less hateful. I am the dark poet now. I like the people who see the world with real eyes. She asked me. You know my name, and I don’t know your name. I told her Johnnie.
I poured her another double shot of Johnnie Walker and I gave her the drink. I saw some life in her face.
I told her. Your face is beautiful. Like artwork. I love to see the eyes. The eyes, they never lie.
She laughed at my words and she told me. Johnnie, you speak in rhyme and I love rhyme. Can I sit with you. Maybe you will show me your real face too? I took her hand, and I held it gently. She rested her head against my shoulder.
I told her. I would appreciate the good company.
Dancing Coyote