I’ve been genetically linked to Eskimos, pygmies and Mighty Mouse, Indians out west and the Eastern kind. Latin and Ghetto child.
I’ve been fooled and ruled a gypsy, touched with too much whimsy, loved and called an angel from above.
I’ve been physically admired and creatively inspired, emotionally hurt and made politically alert, spiritually elated and into another incarnation elevated.
I’ve been chauffeured in white limousines by senators from tropical isles. Shared candlelit aperitifs with judges with sincere smiles. I’ve sailed on boats that took the high seas from Yucatan to Gibraltar
And came surprisingly close to a mayoral altar.
I’ve dined on cheese and wine under the Eiffel Tower with artists and lovers who offered me flowers.
A solo flute was singing to my spirit and my name, played by geniuses of our time with much fame.
And several provocative poems have been sent–anonymously.
I’ve been showered with diamonds for no apparent reason, and found myself childless and alone at the height of my season.
Friends are precious to me–tonight like last night, I am alone.
I’ve been called the elusive lady and the electric child. At times you’ll find me pensive or capriciously wild.
I’ve been called a mirage, “she’s not real man”. “If God made anything more beautiful he kept her for himself.” This one I put on a back shelf.
I’ve been called a sorceress knowing of past and future ages. A priestess who studies the words of sages.
The Empress of Ecstasy, loving and caring, you are for me–and then I want to be free.
Sweet sugar, oooh honey, Mama, Mama, Baby, My baby?
The artist, sister love, “Lover with you I could do right.”
His mama said to get an “international woman”. But its not strictly on a physical plane that I exist.
A universal orbit I fly. I’ve been on highs – when I transcend the sky. Based myself by telling many a lie. But I continue to fly.
I may seem far away while very close-or close 10,000 miles away. Sometimes I think I’d like to stay.
I’ve been told “You’re Egyptian”, that my eyes like the pyramids are timelessly old. Ziani said I was like gold.
I’ve met my mate, long ago, many times. “I’m Osiris, Isis”, he called me by name, and vanished again into the spiritual world, winking at me through others, hinting through vague memories.
I know I was once a very young boy, that drowned in floral pools, and a princess adorned with gold and jewels.
And have been asked so sweetly, “What’s your pleasure, you divine treasure?”
I’ve lived long and died very young. Come back again now to settle another karmic debt–and yet
I’m new-I trust-and hope and seem, to share all of this I know, to share all of this I dream.
I’m a social photographer and accomplished teacher. A sincere love of life is my best feature.
I am as soft as marshmallows and can be as sweet. To you, with good healing hands, a massage I will treat.
I’m still searching for the reason for being. My wanderlust often sends me reeling.
But having found my path, more clearly I’m seeing. The greatest joys in life come when I’m me–being