The New York city lights.

The New York city lights.

A Chapter by Coyote Poetry
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A new chapter. Please enjoy

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I left Iraq in the Winter of 1992. I was sent to Fort Dix, New Jersey.  I took a leave after I arrived in the USA and I drove my truck to the base from Virginia.  I was given a job in supply. I was a numbers man and the Army used my time wisely. I re-enlisted for the war  to escape the suicide of two brothers. I believed I was seeking a good death. War taught me that life was okay. You can't fix every problem or situation. Just listen and be kind. I had a lot of time to travel. I was waiting for orders and the military wasn't  very quick.  My boss was a twenty five year Veteran. The Sergeant First class  released me early every Friday. I would drive down highway 95 to the city of New York. I never aimed at the city. Somehow I landed in the arms of New York weekly for two months.

Somehow I seem to land on the same streets and end-up in the same taverns. I remember the long streets. They felt ghostly and friendly to me.  I found my destination. Chumley tavern on Bedford street. The watering hole for the great Hemingway. This was point one for me. I decided on 10 locations to visit. I stood outside the tavern and I looked at  the lights of New York. The city had the ancient lived in feel.

I liked the Chumley tavern. My G.I Joe haircut and northern accent allowed me to be set out in the mist of the New Yorkers drinking, talking and enjoying their night, drinking their gin and tonic. I wasn't looking for conversation or friendship. I was in the city where Cohen and Joplin had great talks. I was sitting in the bar where Hemingway drank and lived his way. I felt like I belonged.

I ordered a cold draft and shot of Jack. I watched the New Yorkers talk, laugh and drink. I caught the attention of a pretty woman in a business suit. She was in her late twenties, wore glasses and her long auburn hair tied tightly. She was surveying my face and haircut. She came and sat near me. She touched my shoulder and she asked. Did you just return from the war? I smiled and I told her yes. She was silent for a few seconds and she asked me. Are you okay? I told her. I'm okay and thank you for asking. She touched my high and tight haircut gently and she told me. My brother came back and he isn't alright. He is locked-up now. I told her I was sorry. War can be hard on men. Hard to forget. She asked me. Is your head cold? These are the cold days of Winter in New York. I told her. I'm Michigan born and I'm used to the coldness of the Winter.

She smiled and laughed. I liked her smile and laughter. I knew she didn't laugh too much. Her eyes held a sadness. She asked me. What are you doing in New York?  I remember her brown eyes looking deep into my eyes. I told her I left Fort Dix and was searching for the watering hole of Hemingway. The lights of New York and the place where Joplin and Cohen had their last talk. I needed the ancient city. The city make me feel okay. She held her smile for a few seconds than laughed. You missed 10 good cities to come here. Of all the damned places to go, you picked New York in the coldness of winter. She looked serious for a minute and she asked me. Where are you going to park your car? This is New York. No parking in the daytime soldier. I told her. I don't know. I just wanted a large city tonight. No larger than New York. She laughed at my answers and her business suit seemed less dangerous. Now her eyes were more gentle and less fearful.

She told me. You are lucky. I have a empty spot to park your car. She asked me what my name was. I told her, my name is Johnnie, wandering soldier, and asked her name in return. She smiled and offered her hand and she told me her name was Dorothy. A Boston girl working in the city. I liked her face. A Irish shaped face with a firm body. She asked me, "Do you have a place to stay? New York city is very costly."  I told her  I was going to escape the city after the bar closed, find a cheap hotel outside the city. She sat quietly for a few moments and she asked me, "Are you dangerous?" I smiled and I told her only to whiskey bottles and cans of beer.

She told me, "I live near by. 201st Street. You can have my couch. I don't work till Monday. I will give you a grand tour of the city."
I told her,  "You don't have to. You have been very kind already. Talking with me. I do appreciate. I don't want to be a added burden to you."
She told me, " I like your face. You have a good face. Please tell me a story. Why a good man would volunteer for war? And how you landed here in this tavern with me?"II
I told her about my two brothers who committed suicide and how I volunteered for war. War was very kind. Taught me life is better than death. Now I need a story my kind friend.
She smiled and she told me she went to college and got her degree. "Now I'm a accountant for a big bank and I work 70 hours a week and I'm always tired."
I reached my hand to her and I told her. Glad to meet you Dorothy.

She took my hand and she held it firmly. I looked into her brown eyes and I asked her. Do you like to dance? She smiled and told me. I haven't danced since college. I would enjoy some dancing. I told her. Drinking need dancing and dancing need drinking. We left the Chumley tavern at closing time. The city was still alive and lit up.  A lot of people were aiming at their nightly goals. We found my truck and she directed me to the parking structure. She found my writing journals and she read them as I parked the truck. She asked me with questioning eyes. Are you a writer? You didn't tell me you like to write. I do also. I told her. They are just journals now. One day I will post and create the great novel. She looked sad and she questioned me. I shouldn't have looked at the journals? I'm sorry. I told her. It is okay. My life isn't so exciting. I use the journals to release pain, anger and joy.

Her apartment was nice. The apartment had the feel of a woman with good taste and class. Her bedroom door was open. I saw large pillows and satin sheets. She had a small couch and a small kitchen. The house was decorated simple. She had no extra items. A Television and small stereo sat on a small table. She had new art and waterfall on her walls. I liked her already. She had a small book shelf. She had my favorites. Kosinski, Jack London, Stephen King and Robert Schuller. I told her. I like your apartment. She smiled and she told me. I like the simple things. I could be a little tunnel visions with my needs. I like things in their proper place.

I found her cassettes. I requested a Cat Steven tape.  She put the cassette in. The good drink made me braver. I reached to her and I requested a dance? She smiled and she told me. Never danced with a Northern boy. Are you Northern boys safe? I brought her into my arms and we slow danced to the calm voice of Cat Steven. I felt her relaxing and feeling safer. I released her and I told her. Dear Dorothy, I'm tired and I would be thankful for blanket and pillow. I 'm very thankful for her kindness. She held silence and whispered. Thank you Johnnie. We will drink coffee at 9 am and I will take to the Chelsea Hotel tomorrow. She came to me and kissed both my face-cheeks and she went looking for the blankets. She left me wishing for more.

I went to the couch and I was asleep very quickly. She came back and she put the blanket over my tired body. She kissed my forehead and she went to bed.

                              New York City lights






© 2014 Coyote Poetry



Author's Note

Coyote Poetry
A new story. I hope you enjoy.

My Review

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Featured Review

Very honest feeling. It has a very poetic feel to it, which is supported by the choppy short sentences. Usually the flow of the sentence structure may leave a piece feeling choppy, but in this case I feel it enhances the character and how the character views the world, and adds to that poetic feel. TINY tiny note, it's Cat Stevens, not Cat Steven. :) Love the work, I really enjoy your style of writing. :)

Posted 7 Months Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

7 Months Ago

Thank you for your help. This is a real story. Real life teaches us and become our goldmine of memor.. read more



Reviews

Wow... this is amazing. You captured me in and kept my attention. I usually am not a fan of stories but this is beautiful! Thank you so much for sharing this story! Did you ever see her again?

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

2 Years Ago

We kept in contact for 5 years. Army took me to California and South America. Old days were hard. Ph.. read more
The whole time I was reading I had a feeling of calm. This seems to be the start of a very mellow story that makes you feel like you're right there enjoying New York.

It's perfect for what it is.

Looking forward to the next installment.

-Dream

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

2 Years Ago

Thank you for the positive comment. The mellow feeling is what I wanted to project. I enjoyed my tim.. read more
Awesome. This is a very good tribute for an well favored city, I know. I'm sure they would highly appreciate this gorgeous, gorgeous work. Thank you so much, for this article on New York.

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

2 Years Ago

Thank you Derek. I appreciate the comment.
It is amazing how the kindness of one person can offer so much solace in the face of so much suffering. A lovely, lovely write.

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

2 Years Ago

Yes you are right. I have met many good people and I tried to do the same. Thank you for reading and.. read more
Wow, it's so real. I've enjoyed reading this. I think you write from you heart, I can read the feelings between the lines, this is good. :)

Rudi

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

2 Years Ago

It is based on truth. I had a two month stay in New Jersey in 1992. I spend my weekends in New York .. read more
Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

2 Years Ago

My pleasure, it's alway easier to write from experience, but it is not alsway easy to write about th.. read more
Coyote Poetry

2 Years Ago

Thank you. I appreciate your kind words.
This is a sweet and vivid memory. Needs a few edits, but is beautifully done.

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Coyote Poetry

2 Years Ago

I would appreciate the help. I struggle with the tenses. I struggle with personal conversation. Than.. read more
Lyn Anderson

2 Years Ago

No problem, I will send them to you.
Coyote Poetry

2 Years Ago

Personal conversation is hard. I appreciate the help.

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Added on November 23, 2014
Last Updated on November 23, 2014


Author

Coyote Poetry
Coyote Poetry

MI



About
A Poet and writer who love to read and write. My pleasure is reading about the bad and good in a life. Also to honor the Poets/Writers of the past by reading their words. Remembe.. more..

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