Vintage Pin Up: Coquette

coquette

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A Vast Radiant Beach And A Cool Jeweled Moon

Oh, I suppose
you’re probably
gonna be wondering
what I could possibly
be up to with a
post title
like that…..

… knowing perfectly
well that I’m not above
using rhetorical tricks
and hyperbole to
drag folks kicking and
screaming into what
we saucily call the
Muscleheaded Blog
experience.

Actually, my friend
D gave me the idea.

In this case, I stole
the phrase from Jim
Morrison’s (Doors)
The Ghost Song” –

— which I thought
would be fun to
feature today, while
I still honestly have
no idea about what
supporting images
I’ll be able to come
up with.

Hmmm…
a tricky one.

Well, never fear –
your Ole Buddy
Muscleheaded will
sort it all out,
no worries .

So,
then:

” Ghost Song ” 
by Jim Morrison

Awake.

Shake dreams from your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.

Choose the day
And choose the
sign of your day,

The day’s divinity.
First thing you see.

A vast radiant beach
And a cool jeweled moon.

Couples naked race down
By its quiet side,
And we laugh like
Soft mad children
Smug in the wooly
Cotton brains of infancy.

The music and voices
Are all around us.

Choose they croon
The ancient ones,
The time has come again.
Choose now they croon
Beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake.
Enter again the sweet forest.
Enter the hot dream
Come with us.

Everything is broken up
And dances.

Indians scattered on
Dawn’s highway bleeding,
Ghosts crowd the young child’s
Fragile egg-shell mind.

.

!!! HOY !!!

I Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside

What is it about
that particular
beach that
makes me feel
all nine-years-old
again , I wonder ?

It’s amazing to me
that after all these
years, that a stroll
down the boardwalk
at night still makes
me every bit as
excited as it would then.

It’s not the wild
whirl of the
amusement rides,
the dark appeal of
mysterious shops,
the animation of
people all around,
.. or the ubiquitous
neon buzz of the
Mac’s Pizza signs
every block or so…..

I stop to ponder
further upon it.

Perhaps the
explanation lies
within some quiet
compromise of
sensory remembrance –

the sounds of the
great ocean swift
sweeping in and
out of that same
beach where I had
spent so many
happy hours –

my ocean –

– eyes tracing the place
on the pier where I was
gifted my very first kiss,
feeling still, the covert
tenderness of that hour,

her kiss –

– sniffing that special
fragrant balance of ocean,
sweat, and the oh-so-
sweet perfume of being
on vacation,

– the memory-tasting
of walk-around foods
of all kinds.

But there’s also
something essential
that’s not of bodily
sensation at all –

So, what is it,
I ask?

And as I pause
once more to
wonder at it,
I suddenly
perceive what
seems to be
a rift in time –

my head is spinning
and I find myself in
the strangest state
of mind –

like I could simply
leap over the railing
and dive into the
‘there and then’ –

until a blaring
Watch The Tramcar
brings me back to
the ‘here and now’.

Startled, 
and yes,
shaken a bit,
I commence
to stroll
once more,
and before long
it comes to me
what the missing
aspect was –

Freedom.

Yes, above all
those other things –

– it was the lovely
languorous freedom

freedom to walk,
or not walk –

freedom to swim
or not swim,

freedom to eat
or not eat –

freedom to be …
freedom to be me.

See ?

.

!!! HOY !!!