poetry

Harvest of Gems

Day Five:
It was the full moon. I struggled with my Berlin flu. Summer had to call her Mom. Money was running out. I called Poland. The boyfriend vanished. Summer and I were left alone once more. I did the Mahakala puja while Summer sat quietly nearby. I could see images of black magic misfiring in Summer's past. She had been wild, transient, and ambitious. I could see Summer's long and gangling frame from the corner of my eye. Her strong neck and broad shoulders attested to the fact that she was a fierce swimmer. So fierce she had broken her fingers after colliding with the tiled walls of the pool. Summer's fingers were healed now. She was a loner like me and was proud of it. I loved her so much; and she knew this. Ours was an old love that never seemed to fall on barren soil. We were very proud of this.
I turned around and Summer walked over. She slowly sat down next to me. Her beautiful toes curled and dug deeply into her legs. They were also now completely healed. Summer was an enthusiastic horserider and countless times had her toes broken by horses' hooves. I gave a throaty sigh and we embraced. I touched Summer's forehead with my own and the mixing of the subtle energies began. It was time to prepare my little angel for surgery. I asked the protectors for help. I could not do this alone. I was taking huge risks and was now responsible for the two of us. Summer gulped me up. I drew a deep and secret breath. Our minds and bodies were now fusing. Our separateness had to temporarily die, in order for us to heal. A motorcycle rattled off, suddenly, in the distance, almost like a strange herald. A secret and celestial wedding was now in progress. "Oh .... such joy," Summer gasped.

Day Six:
Summer and her boyfriend shared their apartment with a tall and snide Irishman who bounced around and hustled for a living in an advertising firm. The Irishman was named Minnie and his room was usually deserted. It was a Saturday and a proper day for delinquent abandon. Summer, her boyfriend, and I took off for the Stare Mesto with Minnie. The Stare Mesto is Prague's old quarter. Everything in Prague reeks of oldness. In fact, the city is one giant and musty attic, seemingly passed by and left to squirm in dreadful isolation. Summer seemed to love it. There was a subtle fatalism in her innermost being, that acted as an anchor and a rudder for Summer, and all those around her. Unlike her boyfriend, however, Summer NEVER played the victim. What she preferred was this sweet loneliness that warmed and nurtured her at every moment.
At the boyfriend's suggestion, we visited the Globe, a hangout for American expatriates exploring with fear the very absurd notion that they actually could be writers. I was bored by it all and asked Minnie about his life in Dublin. "Well, ya see man. I had these friends and we got together in gangs, ya know, just to have a little foon and piss around." Minnie was stirring his cup and enjoying himself. "And, ya see man, there was dis friend of mine, who we like to make foon of."
Minnie paused for a moment. A nervous look engulfed him. "Are you all right?" I asked. "I'm fine, man .... it's just that I'm a little scared right now," he declared. "About what?" I further probed. "Well, ya see man, my friend was read'n oop on Freud and told me I was possibly a homosexual." I smiled. "Do you really think you're a homosexual?"
There was a silence. "Well, I'm just not sure, man." Minnie moaned worriedly. Summer watched the exchange with deep absorption. "It seems to me like your friend was getting back at you." Minnie looked stunned and began to cry. Heat poured down his hands. "Hey, man I dunno what's happening .... I feel so ....," he stuttered hurriedly. "Free?" I asked. "Yeah, man," Minnie croaked. Summer laughed. So did I. The Guides had come through, yet again. Summer's boyfriend was nowhere to be seen.
Back at the apartment Minnie and Summer attended the Mahakala puja. Minnie began drinking from the water bowl, unexpectedly turning the puja into a strange Eucharist. Summer sat motionlessly nearby. After Minnie left, Summer put on her white Tshirt and shorts and jumped into bed; but she was restless and we
both knew that our energies wanted to fuse and start moving. It was time now for the next phase. I took Summer into the bathroom and drew the secret breath slowly up my spine, and then forcefully blew it into Summer's mouth. This was the point of NO RETURN. Our lungs were furiously mixing our subtle energies now. I was drawing the vital force from the cosmos and repairing Summer's etheric body, while sucking in her poisons and spitting them out into infinity. Summer was almost over-powered by the sheer force of the new air inside her and gasped wildly. She clung to me tightly like a small child. "More, please," she begged, "more."

Day Seven:
It had been a stunning night. Even Summer's boyfriend had noticed the change. We had turned on the karmic TV and gone to our past life in India. Summer, her boyfriend, and I walked out into the cold and dark Prague evening. Summer had constant circulatory problems and her hands and feet would often turn ice cold. Her boyfriend had seen this all before and walked hurriedly with a smug and confused air of indifference. I rubbed Summer's polar bony fingers in public. My affection could no longer be hidden. Summer's boyfriend looked the other way. It was becoming a dreadful pain to deal with him. He was a nuisance and a pest. My passion for Summer kept mysteriously dissolving. Like smoke escaping from a fire. Both Summer and I lived in our minds. We enjoyed our brain orgasms and constantly offered up our affection to the Universe. I pushed the button on my camera and discovered it was stuck. My old recording tool had died. It had captured Jim, the Old Guy, and countless Lamas and nameless beings. It had even captured Summer. But now I was in mourning.
We attended a nauseating talent show at a local American hangout beneath a vegetarian restaurant. Summer openly held her arms around me; and nuzzled her forehead against mine. It was finally at this moment that I experienced Summer's latent powers. I SAW NOTHING but white flashes and almost blacked out. The sorceress was finally claiming me. Summer's boyfriend tried to grab some attention by breathing hard and deeply, but only managed to get sick and start coughing into his nicotine-laced lungs, choking madly in a funny and delirious way. "EE-YAH, EE-YAH! EE-YAH!" He was bellowing. It was all a very serious, yet silly sideshow. I was at a loss for words as I held Summer's hand outside the restaurant. "Oh, you know, they're all bisexual and I rarely come here," Summer started to confess. Was my little angel saying a prayer?

Day Eight:
I dreamed a bug dream. Strange colored forms were hatching eggs under my skin. Summer was asleep on the other bed. She rarely got up before ten. The Indians were still fucking with me and I was getting pissed off. They wanted money for a telex to Washington. They wanted money for a visa. They said it would take a week. They said they weren't sure their embassy in Washington would OK a visa. In short, the Indians were behaving like their typical asinine selves. The mind swarms with gracious welcoming speeches-but the Indians just want MONEY.
In Moscow, "The White House" was being bombed. Central Europe was nervous and quaking from this undiscountable fact. I walked the town of Prague alone. I desperately wanted to get away from Summer's boyfriend. His vibes were bad and he was trashing Summer daily behind her back. Ugly and uncomfortable thoughts stalked me as I wandered into the Jewish quarter of Prague. The Josefov reeked with dense and suffocating energy. I was coming home to my roots and I was yearning to talk, to be interrogated, to be politely asked about all the dead people in the cemetery. I missed an appointment with Summer's boyfriend on purpose and shuttled back to the apartment in an anxious and confused mood. Summer opened the door and was surprised to see me. She was alone and yet happy to be in my presence. There was a knowing look in Summer's face that said: I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL.
We sat down and stared at one another. Summer had dark half-circles under her eyes; they made her look modest and wise. Summer wore no jewelry of any kind on her bare thin arms. She wore no watch. Nail polish was alien to her. The only concession to fashion she made was facial make-up when going out and occasional earrings. Summer took multiple baths daily to help ease her poor circulation. "I'm confused," I moaned. "I can't live this double life." Summer said nothing. She simply gazed right into my eyes with an amused and expectant look. "I can't stand your smoking," I continued in a belabored tone. Summer remained silent. She was waiting for something. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but somehow Summer found her way into my arms. We puffed holy breath into one another and slowly smacked each other on the lips. Summer's icy blue eyes were drilling deep into my brain. Summer always got what she wanted and then SOME.

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