August 11, 2008

a girl named margret

The house lights come on, blinding me a little bit. I always sort of hated intermission...just when you get so into what is going on on stage, intermission just seems to pull you right back into reality. I follow the sea of people shuffling out of the theatre; my family is far ahead of me. No doubt probably hitting the restrooms. Not me man. By the looks of those lines, the show will be well over before I even get in a stall. I can hold it.

I go over to the bar outside the large doors that open to the theatre and wait for my family till they get back. Which doesn't seem to be anytime soon. The entire audience seems to be apart of the never ending line that winds to the only restroom in the house. I could be there a while.

The show is good; not a Broadway showstopper, but good all the same. I just enjoy sitting back and watching magic happen before my eyes. It’s a feeling that nothing in the world can ever compare to...

anyway...

I hear someone plop down on the barstool next to me. "You look a little young to be hittin' the bar, there, toots"

She was an old...and I mean OLD lady. With about 7 different strings of pearls wrapped around her neck, and a different colored ring perched atop each of her fingers. She had the curliest blonde hair that I have ever seen in my life; and so much make up on her face, she could make Queen Elizabeth run for the cold cream. To top her whole look off, she sported a completely sequenced blue dress that shimmered even in the dim lighting of the bar.

She was really a sight for sore eyes.

And... completely drunk.

She took one long sip from her drink with a "sllllllllllurp" of her bendy straw. I have no idea what was in that drink, but whatever it was made her eyes go cross-eyed for a split second. "You likin' the show, huh?"

I nod. A little lost for words, really. But still, I wanted to be polite.

“You been here before?” she asks.

“No, this is my first time here. How about you?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have kept this conversation going, but somehow I was intrigued by this woman. Most people probably would have gotten up and left the boozy broad to her drink. But not me.

“Naaaaaaw… (another big “sllllllurp” of the drink) I come here just about every day. I’ve seen this show ten times over, already.”

My eyes widened. For one thing.,. Seeing the same show ten times seems a tad absurd. Especially since this particular show has only been running ten days.

And sure, it’s a smallish theatre… but those tickets aren’t exactly free. Who can afford to see the same show ten times in a row?

“So… you’ve come here to see the show… every night?”

She nodded.

“Wow. Uh, well, do you have family in the show?” Maybe she is just an over-supportive grandma.

“No waaaay, girlie. Family’s long gone.” She burped through the corner of her mouth. “I guess part of the reason is I just…. (hiccup) I just love to see magic perform right before my eyes.”

“Me too.” I said meekly. “So…you must really like the show to see it ten times over, huh?”

She laughed so hard, I feared that she would fall right out of her seat. “This show? Naaaw… well, it’s ok, don’t get me wrong. But, there are other reasons that I come drag my ol’ ass down here.” She looked longingly at her empty glass; she really sucked that one down dry. “Maybe part of me wants to relive my glory days.” She said pushing the glass away and beckoning for another. “You see, there was once a time when yours truly pranced around the stage.”

To be honest, I found it hard to look past the sight of this drunken old woman to be the performing type.

“But that’s ancient history. Been there, done that.” All of the sudden, a man in a tight fitting tux came into our picture. Frowning, he took one look at the old woman and shook his head. The bartender pried the drink from her hands. “Haven’t you had enough tonight, Maggie?”

She gave one menacing look at the young man standing before her with fire dancing in her gaze. “That’s Margret to you, bub. And I’ll tell ya when I’ve had enough.”

The hag had spunk, I’ll give her that.

“Ya think that I woulda earned the right to sit at a bar and drink a lil’. ‘Specially what I’ve done with this place. You’s guys was notin’ before I came and cleaned the joint up. And if it ain’t been for me, you would still be out on the streets beggin’ for scraps with that mangy guitar of yours. So buzz of and leave and ol’ woman to her business… “

He looked as if he was slapped in the face, and had his pride run over with a lawnmower. I swore I saw a slight tint of green to his already flushed face. But he brushed it off quite quickly. I guess he was somewhat used to her attitude. “It’s for your own good, Maggie. Lemme go get you some Sprite or something, ok? We don’t want another spill like last week… I can’t afford to have the medics here again.”

He flew off; leaving Margret and I alone once again. So, this old woman owned the theatre. No wonder she could afford to go to as many shows as she liked…

We sat in awkward silence for a few moments. She twirled her tumbler, making the ice chime against the glass. She let out an exasperated sigh. “Ya know… I wish love was as easy as it is in musicals.”

My body stiffened. Interesting subject change…

“Being able to sing to each other the inner thoughts of your soul…havin’ everything work out perfectly. Happily eva after… the end. No complications…”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. This was a conversation now that I just wanted to get out of. Love and I weren’t exactly on the greatest of terms right now. And getting into this kind of talk with a complete stranger made me want to run out of the theatre and never look back.

But, for some reason, I just never can seem to keep my mouth shut.

“Why…why do you say that?”

She looked at me. I don’t think I had ever seen so much pain in one’s eyes. Then the bartender handed her drink with a half hearted smile. “Here, try to not keel over on my shift, ok?” She winced, but took a sip anyway.

“Kid… you ever been in love?” I looked away from her gaze. Love? I didn’t exactly know how to classify the feeling yet. There was something there…for someone. I just didn’t understand it at all. And at the same time I could feel complete bliss, I could feel utter disgust. Still somehow…he was always imprinted on my mind. No matter how hard I tried to get him out. She laughed quietly. “Well, that just answered my question.”

“What? No… I have never. I mean… at least, I don’t think I have.” I couldn’t believe I was talking about this to her.

“Sounds like love to me…” I frowned. My blood began to flow faster throughout my body, and I felt my face growing hot. Who was she to tell me how I was feeling? I was just about to excuse myself and leave this drunk in peace when she shifted her barstool closer to me. “Don’t be getting your panties in a knot, hun, I’m just making a observation.”

I sat back down quietly. "Didn't mean to upset ya, dearie... really...

She sighed.

"Well, listen here. I come to this here theatre every night. I own it for Christ sake.” She gave another spiteful glare to the bartender from across the room. She took a small sip of the Sprite and put the tumbler down gently. “I, uh…I met someone here one night. After one of my shows. I used to be that cute lil’ slip of a thing I was; a ‘true-blue triple threat’”.

She must have caught my slight surprised raise of my eyebrows. She chortled a little bit. “Hard to believe, eh? But in my time, I was the star of that there stage.”

I smiled. What a life this woman must have had…

“We...we were real sweethearts we were. Me n’ him. Then one day, he had to move. New York. Business there he couldn’t give up…even for me.”

I fiddled with my hands. This stranger was pouring her heart and soul out to me. But, even despite the awkward situation, I couldn’t help but find myself hanging on every word.

“He, uh…he told me he would be back one day. And to meet him at this very place, and he’d be waitin’ for me.”

She toyed with one of her rings. “He gave me this”. She put it in my palm. It was a beautiful turquoise ring, with an inscription on the band.

“My Angel…?”

“That’s what he called me. His angel; sent from above just to him. He was almost as head over heels about me, as I was about him.”

God, how romantic…

“Now look at me. Not so angelic now, eh?” She struck a wicked little smile as she sipped on her Sprite.

I placed the ring on the wooden table after admiring it for some time. “After a while of waitin’… ten years, to be exact, I’d seen so many shows, and drunk so many drinks at this here barstool, I started helpin’ out ‘round here. Then, I found myself one day buyin’ this damn place. I’ve been the owner for 15 long years. But… I always came here. To wait. Hoping… hoping he’d come back.”

I looked at her in disbelief. All these years waiting… setting her life on hold for a man. Setting everything aside for love. It was…ridiculous in my mind. Yet, for some reason… it seemed so right.

“Wow”, was all I could manage to whisper. “God, if I were in your shoes… I would have never been able to go on that long. I would have given up a long time ago.”

She looked up from her drink, with a hint of skepticism in her eyes. And, she looked as sober as I. “Hun… look at me.”

I looked, meekly. I didn’t know if she was going to slap me, or what. I just looked. Her eyes locked on mine. Even if I wanted to look away, something inside me forbade me to do so.

“Looks to me like love ain’t been so kind to you either. But, if you get anything out of our lil’ chat here, get this…

Never, and I mean, never, give up on the person that you can’t go a single day without thinking about.”

Her words struck me. Here was a woman who had giving up everything for love. So much faith and hope…so much I could only dream of having. All I could do was stare at her. Those words, so wise; coming out of the mouth of a boozed up old woman. It didn’t make any sense…

The house lights flickered on and off, signaling us to get back to our seats for Act two. I found myself not yet wanting to leave. She smiled at me, “Go on, hun. You wouldn’t wanna miss the second Act. Trust me, it’s a lot better than the first.”

But I didn’t get up from the stool. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I’ve seen it ten times, ‘member?” she threw me a playful smile. “It’s been great talking to ya, toots. Thank ya kindly for listening to a ol’ hag’s woes.”

I shock my head. “No… I enjoyed it.” I smiled, wondering to myself if I ever was to see this woman again.

“Ya know kid,” she said as I stood up from my chair, “I see a lot of myself in you. You got moxie.”

I spied my family out of the corner of my eye, and started to join up with them. I looked back at her and smiled. I have never smiled like that in a long while.

“Never forget” she called. “And never give up.” She tossed me the turquoise ring with a grin. And, before I could do anything about it, I looked up and she was gone.

“My Angel…”

My Dad put his hand on my shoulder. “Lines were God awful. You were smart staying out here, ya know?”

“Yea…” my voice trailed off. I scanned the mass of people, trying to spot Maggie in the crowd but it was no use. She was gone.

The second act began, and I must say my mind was far from the magic onstage. “Never give up on the one you can’t go a day without thinking about…”

It was then and there, when it clicked. It hadn’t been a single day when I haven’t thought about him…

The show drew to a close, with a romantic tune to end on as the actors took their final bows. I had slipped the ring on my index finger as I clapped; it fit perfectly. The audience was a buzz as we exited the theatre. I too was captivated in all of the excitement of the evening, I had almost forgotten about my encounter with the woman named Margret…until I glanced outside.

I would have noticed that blue sequenced dress anywhere. Out there in the heavy rain, was Margret. Holding on tight to a man, kissing in the down pouring rainfall.

They were reunited at last.

All her faith, hope and ultimate love had paid off… and a smile drew to my face as I saw her finally in the arms of the man that had stolen her heart all those years ago.

I don’t think she realized how much her words meant to me; even if she was just a boozed up broad I met at intermission of one sappy musical. To love is to never give up hope. To love is to always hold on to the one that you can’t get out of your mind…

..............................................................................................

So, if you find yourself as you read this tale thinking about that on person that you can’t get out of your mind….

Let them know that they are your angel.

Right now.

June 07, 2008

chase your fairytale

sadly ever after
glass slippers shattered
do you know how much
a wheelchair lift costs for a pumpkin carriage

so prince charming left her
and sold his horse to elmers,
so he could buy a shiny red convertible
and get himself some young fairy pussy

he settled for a beauty whom he left asleep
and snuck out early so he wouldnt have to kiss her awake
and he never even called her

she got herself a tub of ice cream
and flicked on springer
where the white family was throwing chairs
it turns out mizz snow was having seven affairs
(at least they were little ones)

sneezy died rich after suing doc for malpractice
and happy and dopey were taken down when their meth lab was raided
grumpy was on a pleasant walk (thanks to prozac) and was hit by sleepy alseep at the wheel,
may their souls rest in peace
and bashful67@yahoo.com sold all of their possessions on eBay
and wrote a suicide note on myspace, killed himself the next day

rapunzel, rapunzel let down your hair
i cant i cant tis but a wig
turns out even the strongest prince
cant save you from cancer

and the beauty always had bruises
from the beast of course
oh wait no, she fell
so clumsy so clumsy
she tripped and she fell

and that expecting mother never ever had to guess his name
rumple-whatever it was, because she went to the clinic,
she couldnt raise a child,
no not being the poor seamstress she was

so write me a story a ballad even a legend
and we'll send off our heroes to a magical land
full of rubble and oil and magnificent sand
and it will have a wonderful splendid glorious end.



-thomas nowak

March 05, 2008

I wish your heart was painted on your face, so that I knew what you were thinking

You say things to me that make me wonder if maybe there is something else out there, you tapped into something that no one else knew, something universal. In my eyes you are the only other person who knows what it is like to burn, really burn. Not burn like the flames of the fire but burn. Burn for something, for someone. And it scared me that I wasn't alone anymore.

I can listen to your breathing when it's shallowed out and you're not really focusing anymore and if I listen closely, I swear I can tell the exact moment your inhale turns to an exhale. You give me butterflies that make me breathe so hard and so fast I feel as if I'm drowning. I think maybe this is what it must feel like to drown, it scares me that one person can make me feel like this. Every one of my cells so awake I can hear the pulse of my own blood inside of me, feel every bone of my skeleton moving beneath my skin.

Sometimes i think resorting to the things I do is a bad idea. Fear like hands closing around my throat, thick fingers numbing me like cocaine and I can't breathe. I would soften at your touch, vulnerable and weak. Like flowers wilting beneath the summer heat. Somehow being around you makes me feel invisible, or maybe invincable. Sometimes it's hard to tell.

Sometimes I pray that maybe you're the sick boy I always dream about, sometimes I wish that you could be the sick boy with big sick dreams of finding a real sick girl. Because I want to be that to you and I want you to be constant to me. The only thing in my life that will always be there because the things i use as a constant now or only making things worse. At night I wake, twisting away from my sheets as if it hurts me to sleep. I search myself for wounds that don't exist, that never had. I scream bits of nooses, coffins, and bones into my pillow just because i know i will never find the cool side of the bed again.

Sometimes i wish you were there when that happened. Other times I'm glad you're not.

Other girls dream about guys with nice cars and football reputations but all I'm asking for is you. Because there's something about your lullaby eyes and the way that you make butterflies the size of cities bloom inside of me that makes me fall for you, i just can't put a name to it.

I keep telling myself that there is no way I can let myself fall for you because I would rather be lonely than sorry. But i guess that's not going to happen. I finally meet the one person in the whole entire world who makes me want to take my chances, who makes me want to see what's out there. But he's the only other person who's afraid to. The only other person who thinks maybe it isn't such a good idea. And for some reason I feel like that's taking something away from you, like I'm losing. Like it's a game or something.

Sometimes I wonder if you know that you have someone who lies awake in the middle of the night, thinking about you. Wondering where you, are what you doing. Sometimes I wonder if anyone thinks about me that way.

Your lullaby eyes have pupils that are so large and so black I feel like I'm staring into the barrel of a gun. When you look at me they pulse, like they have a life of their own. I think maybe it's good at least that you're pupils are beating, in case you heart ever stops. Sometimes I think that I take every breath to seriously. Like it could never happen to you, but it could.

To me you are the boy who I can look into your eyes and see the little dolls of my own reflection and like what I see. You are the boy whose skeleton I can see beneath his skin, the boy who makes me feel as if I'm drowning, who gives me butterflies the size of cities that could bring me to my knees. I wonder if maybe I'm the only one who feels like this, and it scares me to think that I am.

I remember dreaming that we were standing there with the sun just barely breaking over the mountains and the sun caught the water so that it looked like one big liquid raindow. I remember how the stars were out even though it wasn't dark yet, You stood there before me sweating starlight and I wondered what you would look like in the dark. I used to think that I would never meet someone who made me think this way, but now that I have I wish I never had because this feeling is so overwhelming I think maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe I'm insane. How can hearts so young feel so much pain?

You can't stand losing and you can't bear pain, you're the boy of my dreams and I want us to beleive in time machines. I want you to be the person who makes me stop needing and wanting the things that I feel like I need and want. I wonder if you even have the power to do that. When the ground shakes and the walls around me move like stage scenery, and I think I only have ten more minutes left to live, all I can think about is spending those last ten minutes with you.

All I ever wanted you to know was that I exist. I'm here. I just wanted you to know that, but it's the one thing you can't fully comprehend. Like you're not sure if you're really alive yet. I wish your heart was painted on your face, so that I knew what you were thinking.

I feel like a puzzle, I want to be complete, to be completed. But only by the right piece. I just can't figure out which piece that is. I'm wondering if by choosing you I'll just be shoving you into a space where you don't fit. But if that's the case it makes me wonder if I even want to be completed at all.

I want to be the one that helps you hold the ceiling down. We'll shut ourselves up inside your room and hold each other right and shut the windows tight. Keep the world outside.

Meeting you opened doors for me, doors that had always been there. I just hadn't seen them before. It makes me wonder what will happen if I choose the wrong one, if it will ever even matter. I feel like I can't ever be right if I am this absolutely terrified of being wrong. So i'll trying to convince myself that you don't mean anything to me and try to keep breathing.

February 12, 2008

you're a dangerous thing

well i'm reckless and free
now you can't hurt me
my heart is not meant to be tamed
and your beauty and charms
can't do me no harm
so just stop looking at me that way

well it's plain to see
you're a dangerous thing
with those hips, those lips, and those eyes
and it's lucky for me
that i like being free
or i might try and make you mine

now i might give in to kiss you
but don't plan on me staying long

well i'm leaving town
on 40 westbound

and my heart aches for no one
i'm right at home
driving along
just me and the settin' sun

well it's plain to see
you're a dangerous thing
with those hips, those lips, and those eyes
and it's lucky for me
that i like being free
or i might try and make you mine

now i might give in to kiss you
but don't plan on me staying long

now i might give in to kiss you
but tomorrow i will be gone