Juan's 34th Dream

I
Headin' back east, to where the sun dies,
With the golden ukiyo-e's paint Mr. Guthrie
And the sad-eyed geisha spoke to me in a dream.

II
My love has left one morning,
Leaving traces of portraits and smiles all upon my window sill
Only to follow autumn's wind.

III
Leavin' with my visions at one hand
And memory on the other, departing for the next train
Hoping to find the sun.

IV
Driftin' in the highway, only to find myself in Olympus,
The gods and goddesses lost it all to the businessman
Forcing Aphrodite to mourn after losing it all.
"Has it gone now? Moving away from me."

V
The bar in a cold night, where Venus works in her shift
The queen of hearts has left to the gypsy night.
Expecting Athena's hand in marriage to the clown.

VI
The weary vagabond, haunted by the siren
As I watch with laughter, and then comes ol' Jane Eyre
Allowing the wind to transcend over the swamplands.

VII
The long narrow lowlands, where the gypsy awaits,
"I've been waitin' patiently for the messenger to come."
"He ain't comin'", I said, "He took the train for the west."
As kings wait for the Elysian light to arrive.

VIII
The wasted lands of the desert, where dead poets lie and vultures waste,
Steadfast with words, expecting the warm rain to fall
Aimed my hand with disdain to God, only to find the sun dyin'.


IX
The blind oracle, forboding the danger ahead
"You ain't gonna make it boy. The sun is a-dyin.'"
"Mark my grave then ol' man, I'll be a-waitin' in Elysian Fields."

X
Invitations scattered on the road, illuminating as far as the blind man can see
Death awaits for young Tommy More on the courtyard,
Waitin' for the cowboy to draw his arm.

XI
A Barcelona night, thoughts fill the room
Inviting Miles and Dizzy to bicker,
And I, being aroused by a Spanish girl
Forbading for my phone call.

XII
The stars pass, only to be captured by Mr. Van Gogh
Underneath I see the prophet telling poor Nero not to sing
Just so that Achilles can mend his sprained ankle.

XIII
Ballet dancers all over town, only one showed up,
Expectin' the next ship for Istanbul to depart
As soon as the next angel will fall
And the weary traveler fall to his knees.

XIV
The journey to the west, only to be seen as a challenge to the band of knights,
soon to be discovered that they ain't not good
As their heads spin and spin to be bigger than their swords.

XV
I've been a millions of miles from home,
Shall I turn back, just to have comfort from Cindy's photographs?
Beyond Eden's roaring waves, the geisha is waiting.
With words and memory, what could possibly prevent me?

XVI
The new morning waits.

XVII
Streetlights are empty, the troubadour plays his guitar.
Matilda comes up to me, placing the flowers from the lowlands on the stoop
But how could I resist, seeing that her face is fading.


XXVIII
The musketeers and the priests,
With guns and unholy prayers
Waving it around, being seen as fools to the farmer.

XIX
The Trenches on both sides,
Runnin' across no man's land,
Where cowards get tangled
And haunted by Lucifer’s traps.

XX
It's snowin' on 34th Street,
And I talkin' to Gatsby and Daisy,
Hoping that the Duke can take a trip.

XXI
To the north, I've seen noble men selling themselves
Even Faust had to give it all up to Goethe
Expectin' to find what's beneath the heavens.

XXII
Icarus blowing the wind and makin' a bet to the Mongol
With his wings, he sure could fool all the fools
Only to find out he lost it to the thief.

XXIII
The cafes await me at the Morrocan afternoon.
As the thin man have tea and biscuits with Queen Jane
Nothing Man has words only to be written by Robbie.

XXIV
It's oh so cold as the second to last sun dies,
Dragged and destroyed by the forest, only to find myself with the muse,
Urging me to come in and take rest, promising good fortune and love.
Oh how could I ever resist?

XXV
Loin à travers l'océan,
Où les reves a dispersé majestueusement
En attendant la pluie venir.

( Moi )



XXVI
She could only find my soul at
When the Magnolia leaves fall to the ground
As I ride along the old Spanish road to the garden.

XXVII
In the garden, I found no sign of her photos,
but a boy who has been a-waitin' years and years.
I say to him, "Wat'cha expectin' fo'?"
"Nobody." said he, "only for the hard rain to pour."

XXVIII
Escaped from the muse's reach, no more interest for such tastes,
Seein' that they no long need me,
Only to find the time I've wasted.

XXIX
A year’s end is past due,
Folks and families headin’ back home,
Anticipating for the moon princess arrive for the night
And I, with my maps and vanished frames,
No desire for me goin’ back west.

XXX
Been Thirsty and hungered, stuck in this thick wilderness,
Oh, how I doubt leavin’ her behind!
I gazed upon the dark mountain with its apex,
Oh how could I go on without it

XXXI
The cold spring that I drank, I looked upon the mountain boy,
I say “Why is the water a-runnin’ on the top.”
“Only the heart beneath my friend, make its water run through its rigid edge.” he says.
I climbed ‘til I see the world as a new,
It is there, my eyes are fixed upon the valley where angels fall and no man comes.

XXXII
Jack Frost has gone, as I could see the cherry blossoms bloom again,
The silk-like women with their haikus waitin’ to be written,
And there I’ve seen what Woody was talkin’ about,
Where no man dares to enter the forest of old.

XXXIII
The breath of Fuji air, dreamin’ and sleepin’ over it,
Entranced by the koto as I walked into the tea garden,
Hoped that she will come and amend those dreams
But how could I ever resist her sad face.

XXXIV
And here it is, where our roads have crossed
A sense of remorse is in her eyes, as I open her gate,
She’s been waitin’ for many a years since I left home

Lips been untouched and words unspoken,
Men not dare touch what is left to be,
Bards give there all just to be with her
But her lips are cold as ice.
And I, the lonely vagabond,
Anticipating this forgotten chapter
Hoping to find what I’m after for.

XXXV
“I’m tired and ruined by the storm. But I..”
“Shelter ain’t gonna help you.” says the geisha.
It is here and now, with no visions to spare
With no such love spoken of and I leave for the next train.

XXXVI
Her pale white face, the cold snow that I once knew when I was a child,
Her ghost-like soul, a soul that I lost when I saw in a Dylan painting.
This untold tale of Capulet and Montague being twisted by the storm.

XXXVII
The geisha taking me to the heart of the golden fields,
Where everybody’s waiting for us to leave.
Telling her that nothing is what it seems to be,
Only with eyes wide shut and ears stripped of poison
Finding the destiny that lies between the thin line.

XXXVIII
The Golden Fields where lost souls escape to,
My dream has left me behind
Leaving me on Eden’s garden
With nothing left for the moon princess.
Heading back to the north country
Where I once belong
Only to be returned to Elysian Fields.

XXXIX
She’s waiting at the fields,
With my frames and vignettes at her hand
Hoping for a dream to pass by.

written by me for the past six months.