At the end of the day L.A…
You’re still the basin of all my aspirations,
the stream of consciousness that keeps the wine
in my blood flowing,
the waterfall that cascades
“This May be Love” so says Jimi “like one of those daydreaming fools.”
Deep in the Valley where all your hopes surfaced
born of beauty,
born of pain,
living in a
transitory semblance of real life
you revealed yourself to me.
L.A…
elusive, magical and bruised, you’re the line that runs down my center,
keeping me close to the edge of surrender,
pulling me to the other half of me that soon the world will see.
Any bars I have stood behind I built on my own.
All highways I traveled alone
until I landed inside your melodic heart.
And when I leave you at times
I know I have not lost you
at the end of the day,
after twilight
when some stars begin to gleam over the Pacific
as I drive up the 1,
feeling the Malibu sky.
At the end of the day when the music plays,
your blues notes don’t lie any more
than the child who in your eye
goes searching for me when I look for another escape,
another moon in the desert,
a home in the hills,
a vessal on the Ocean that would keep us sailing in circles
together until all our triangles washed ashore.
L.A….
I’m yours until we break off into the sea,
and even then you’ll surround me in the water…
where nothing we love is ever lost at the end of the day.
Comments on: "L.A. Love Affair" (1)
L.A. takes me back to the days of my youth, going to Newport early mornings to catch some waves on a Saturday morning, hiking in the hills, or riding old horses in the middle of the night. Visiting spooky places, like Spadra (sp) cemetery, pushing over a cow in Chino and running like hell when you were tricked to try it with a bull.
Ah, you bring back so many memories, as I am sure any Angelino would also be reminded of. I will never be able to write with such elegance.
Korean War Baby
adopted to LA