Smoldering

Before I met Julian - I was writing a play/stage show for off Broadway - I had Sean Penn in mind for the Steve McQueen role. And was going through a sticky divorce.
Julian had seen this poem somehow. It peaked his interest in meeting me. It's been awhile since I read it. And it is a work in progress. I'm going to create a show for Crazy Horse in Paris.
Most likely for a July 2018-

This might be the inspiration :

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Smoldering

I know it's bad for you...
But, this is when I wish,
I had a cigarette-
something I've never tried- (light up)
some kind of relief..
I wish it was Italy 40 years ago--
The moon rising over the Amphitheater--
to tremendous applause... like Herzog (clap)
Europeans don't seem to care about silly
smoking laws?,
We do what we want anyway -
behind closed doors--
Our true character, collective complexities.
childish activities -
patterns- genetics? Attention deficit-
- ...SEX ... a lost art-- a sickness--
Perversions-
Lost sensuality -
The cruel smell of orange blossoms...
I love being in love-- but expectations,
make it impossible to be happy-
or satisfied...
I've tried... so hard..
maybe it's not in fashion--
Tradition...just seemed so romantic...,
I guess it's a used up ideal --
for the old fashion...
not modern...frown emoticon
Female security... lost-
no way--
Coded, and loaded Cell phones,
Computers --
Ordering sex on line-
is like ordering a book on Amazon--
and ... snooping eats you alive--
A mirrored action. obsessive love...
unhealthy,
hopeless- knocked sideways--
There is always this feeling -
of discontent--
Like something is off...
I can't put my finger on why--
Who wants to be the Warden--
I want out of here-- out of this time --
in space--
Grey, muted crystals,
from unsavory places-
bad intentions,
dull- no fire-- a secret life -
Laying in my hotel bed--
pulling up my stockings- carefully
re-attaching to the garter- ,
The Cuban heel- the line
(right on course)
the works...
Feeling a little guilty-
I started to fantasize--
Il Postino, Pablo Neruda-
Should I go to Capri--?
So frustrated--
burning... questions...
No man knows what to do with me--
I blame myself--
To play with me, is eternal--
I'm not 'on the clock' or...
on the 'payroll'--
rrrr--
I had to get out of the room-
The velvet stuff and porcelain things
closing in on me--
What have I done...?
I knew it was wrong from the start--
primitive-- base instinct..
Never marry a rich man...
Euros from a Vagabond..
Just start walking - (Like Jeanne Moreau and
Miles Davis)
Never look back-
There is only beauty ahead,
Salvation..
Glory
Rushing...
I almost forgot where I was-- shit--
My white
Burberry trench -
- on the floor?
A Park-ay floor...
(Narration by a deep voiced sexy black guy)
BG- She stopped to admire it's clever design,
ME- "So pretty"
BG wrapped herself up---
She snuck out the door with a quiet click,
and Seamlessly, floating down the hall- (on wire)
Her Tom Ford feet didn't
touch the ground--
Falling gracelessly into an elevator
playing Nat King Cole's .... Stardust?
(remembering the movie)
ME- "Fallen Angel?"
BG Nobody was up yet-
out into the cool world she goes,
ME-"Freedom...
I can breathe..."
BG- looking for a little human contact?
Playful seduction? ...
ME- "I'm so Hungry..."
BG- Her heart was racing---
It was barely dawn --
Bathed in perfect light-
magic hour-- --
ME- "Everyone looks good this early"
BG- Even cats and hummingbirds
Was anyone watching her..
She gazed up into dark windows...
to nobody...
and let the jacket fall loosely around
her shoulders...
The rush coming back- ...
a little lost on purpose,
Hiding around corners,
ME- so dangerous-
my body is on fire....
my body is never done-- trouble finds me--
please find me-
The iron is always hot!"
BG- She Leaned against the cool wall of a
stoney church-
It felt good, soothing-
ME- I wonder how prostitution works-
Does it ever feel good?
Lost little souls - being taken advantage of--
or taking advantage of-
Is it just for money? Is it for attention?
or --- both--
Women suffer-
- Everywhere...
rules, rules, rules--
conflicting needs..
I can't find the answers-- It's an epidemic--
I know I won't compete with a computer, PlayStation,
or - a gaggle of Hollywood boys hiring poor
Eastern stolen girls to swallow loaves of bread
up their anus'?- and
make them bark like seals --?
How does that work?"
BG- She was disturbed--
How far can she take this?-- Is it even real?--
ME- "Have we lost men to thin air---
to the Abyss-- to technology and lube-
Flesh is attached to a heart and a brain-
takes effort...and skill...
Where are the great lovers?-- A lost art...
God , I hope not...
I've never been to Columbia-- Should I go?- I really want to go!
Is this Hysteria?...
Objectification?
now-- Coming down from the ceiling,
dripping in gold glitter--
Dancing with Nureyev- eyes closed---
the dream...
arousing my tenderness,
A sweet rawness-
feeling bruised and scratched up--
Hypnotic -
Life is sensual-- not a "fix it in post"--
ME- I miss PLAYBOY-
The End of an Era--
Chivalry, elegance-
Celebrated imperfections -
differences... hot---passionate dreamy scenes...
The girl next door-- shyness-- "it's my first time"
but - not my last....(wink)
-- I'm planning a mysterious coup--
Want to get in on it--
Julian Assange?
Is it healthy, to be fantasied about...
by many men --?
Isn't that the goal-
How many can we effect--
It's natural-- to want to be desired--
The world creeps up on you--
and there you are,
ALL over the place-
places you never intended to be-- (desert storm?)
(soldiers)
I am human you know--
left to adjust to the madness-
No mercy- pay the price-- my fault-
BG- feeling empty, sad-- withdrawn-
Left to Isolate-- Medicate.
Go to sleep--
ME-NO! I wont- -
ME- You know- It's not freaky enough,
to just be beautiful--
I've never felt beautiful-
I always felt sexual... and blind..
oh wowwy... I'm losing my mind--
I'm shutting down-- It's such a strange feeling...
going numb... in front of everyone----
It's like a Self inflicted drowning...hard to do--
(Alarm bells!!)---
When did I want to be this thing?--
To attract what?
When did I go from a curious little girl,
to an insatiable woman? Girl on the run...
Femme fatale... devoted and ....divided.
Are we all going crazy? -
or, is it just me?
Is it that stuff on unwashed vegetables?
When did I lose control over my own heart?--
When did I start believing ,
That this is all I'm good for-
against my better judgement--
fell for it- dammit- it all backfired--
It doesn't feel good to be used, neglected, ignored---
controlled....
I'm not doing this---
It's humiliating - I have to turn this around--
Settling is powerless- desperate--
an illusion--
Can't buy your way out of this one ...buddy!!,
I'm cold-
(She can't stop laughing..)
Reminds me of a play I wrote --
That one about The Hell's Angels,
starring -
Steve McQueen and Brigitte Bardot--
The Entr' Acte....
** A car chase-
She is going on and on (in french) and
He's just trying to have his way with her-
everything is double entree' Funny/Sexy-(subtitles projected)
They've stolen billions in diamonds - she's dripping from head to toe...
in a sparkly madness of laughter--- 60's Porsche?- (or that GT/Bullit car)
All in a Car - bouncing and swerving-- lights- facing the audience-- (with B/W projections from the 60's behind them--)...
They fall in love-- They fall apart---
I'm not sure what the The Hells Angels have to do with it--
but they stay in the title---
The End
(Is near ....)