Le Bistrot Vivienne- Chapter 4

The winter has come earlier this year. It was October and Paris was freezing cold. It was 5 o´ clock in the afternoon and that art presentation would start in two hours. “Louis Vitton. Champs Eliseés “her favorite store. She got herself a stunning pair of black high heels “ this is how you kill a man…wearing high heels”…” or you get killed by one “ she laughed at herself. She never thought about death meaning as her dead, because she was never afraid of it.
Deirdre arrived to the Gallerie Vivienne at the right time. The Gallerie was absolutely full of people “the Parisian are always so elegant” she thought getting herself a glass of red wine. She was sweeping with her eyes the environment trying to find him, she knew he was there. Couldn’t be late to see what the presentation was about. Sculpture. Italian marble carved woman’s hips and hands. A black marble representing woman’s sex, Deirdre recalled how much she missed fucking. It’s been just so much traveling that she could not run to Marrocos aisle and get lost with a hot man with a huge dick crazy to fuck her. Of course that would be someone that she would never see again.
Obviously the artist was a man. Only man could picture woman’s body like that. Only man driven by the madness of pursuing a woman’s body could do that. Only man hungry to penetrate a woman and fuck her hard could sculpt like that. “As for my passion for man’s dicks I could be a hell of a sculptor”. Also, Paris inspires that on human beings. There’s nothing like fucking in Paris…Fucking, eating, drinking wine Paris is good for anything. It is good to be a woman in Paris.
No Lituan clue. Deirdre was starting to get hungry. Suddenly a voice came from behind whispering on her ears with a heavy accent:__A woman in black, drinking wine by herself…what a threat!
It was him. The Lituan was right behind her.
__Please allow me to introduce myself, Vince Britsk. But I know you are a well traveled girl you could call me Vilnius as I´m called in my home country. Have you been to Lituan?
__Deirdre Vess, please to meet you.
He kisses her hand.
__No I have never been to this country before. She replied sharp.
__Hence my passion for women this place bores me and I am hungry. Would you like to join me?
Synchronicity.
__Yes, I would be pleased.
__Good. Prepare yourself to have the best food in your life….
Bistrot Vivienne. Right beside the gallery. Deirdre knew that place well. She was somehow attracted and frightened by the coincidence of the facts. She was fascinated and scared because she found her target and now she is about to dine with it.
They got a table and ordered more wine. He was right in front of her and she could see his face more clearly now. He was beautiful. A mixture of danger and sweetness.
He started to tell her about his passions, his life and all the women he loved. Deirdre lost track of his speech and traveled inside his eyes, his lips, and his voice. That face was familiar to her. It was obvious that they both knew who they actually were. He was chased by the Intelligence and she was a spy.
__Are you with me Miss Vess?
Deirdre came back in a snap.
__Absolutely.
__I was saying how your beauty is fascinating. Almost frightening….
Deirdre was scared. Scared of herself. She had to figure how she would catch him but she was confused. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do so.
__Excuse me, I need to use the restroom Mr Britsk.

TO BE CONTINUED

Pyramids and fucking three elements - Chapter Three

Marrocos was always crowded and sandy. It was somehow familiar and frightening to her, the farmer’s market, the colors in that city . She liked flying over it. People speaking loud, life was adventurous and busy but inside of her there was silence. She kept her inner self silent. Three years old when that truck crashed into her parent’s car… she survived but not little Leila and…Mom and Dad….That was loud, very loud for that little girl. Loud as those couple of tears shed. Green tears shed off of green eyes. You run by to many green eyes in Marrocos´s street…
Deirdre has hated cars ever since. She loves piloting her own plane no fucking trucks around…Again three elements. She lost the three elements she loved the most; Number three was always present in her life , always. Connecting those three points you have a triangle. Deirdre had several dreams with triangles and ever since she started this case , she dreamed with the Lituan…Egypt…and its pyramids wich happens to be a three point-connected geometric form, seen from one of its prisms.
“ Motherfucker…I fuckin´hate pyramids. Get out of my way. “ she replied to someone trying to sell them out.
This Lituan man loves women and is overly protected in Europe. He is dangerous for his ability to convince and seduce people on his behalf. There is no religion about it. But this man alone is able to put people against nation, mother against son … He starts and his followers keep his job by the seed he plants on their mind. So he is practically innocent, people who follow him do the job. The ability this man has to seduce is tremendous that’s why the Intelligence is searching for him. He is the source. Every time some catastrophe happens- from bomb drops to passion killers, his name was some how involved in it. Deirdre was called for it as being as charming and fearless as she has always been, and excellent for her efficiency and self nurturing. Her cell phone rings:
“Drop Marrocos. He is not there. Paris. Ettienne Marcelle, an Art Gallery. Rue des Petit Champs supposedly evident terrorism. Remember he is not the target. Get hold of him and try to connect what’s behind it. Be fast. Tonight.”
Deirdre runs over to her plane and get ready for this art presentation in Paris “ A stunning pair of black high heels, a nice garment, excellent Parisian parfum and make up will do it.”

Two broken ribs...and a serious knee injury CHAPTER 2

She ran, ran after little Leila but she was too fast. Deirdre lost sight of her. She was now by herself her cell phone was dead, Leila was gone. She had no desire to keep going. She lost everything, she was totally alone. She had always been alone. “Leila…come back…”

“Noddy girl…”
Deirdre opens her eyes slowly “You have always been so strong- but this time you knocked me off” …”Uncle David….where…”
“Prague … on a public hospital. Three huge gorillas…I’m sure they didn’t care about your gender…two broken ribs and a serious knee injury-you might have to get another one we are waiting for the doctor’s response…
_Son of…ugh! She tries to stand up but Uncle David forbids her.
“Now, Deirdre you got to listen to me: I’ve been knowing you for a while now. This is very, I mean seriously dangerous people. You got to decide if you want to keep going with this…
“This what? I have nothing to choose…Ugh! My rib cage…stupid Lituan …
“You are beautiful, you can have a normal life, and you know family, raise children…
__Oh please Uncle David…leave me alone I want nothing….No family thing please…don’t give me that…
You know they want you for this Lituan case and I supposed you are aware that from now on I won’t be close to you anymore…
__Good I’m starting to like you…
__This is hard for me. I should be in South Africa for the Palestine maladjusted young bomb maker man case. You know you are important to me just as were your father and…
__Drop it!! Stop that shit now. I’m not leaving this case. I’ll chase this Lituan triangled chest man all over Europe. You know I can do this…
__He loves women…
__I don’t care about…
__You are just his type…
__It’s a job
__Dispite your physical strength
__I like traveling through Europe specially when I pilot my own plane.
__Deirdre you got to listen to me. David looks deep in her eyes holding her shoulders “Please take care. This is very dangerous people. This man is protected all over Europe it is not a political case it is a mental problem and wherever we chase him it seems he has all Europe on his feet. Promise me you will think about this better because…
The doctor enters in the room:
__She is awake. Good. You keep your knee little impressively strong girl, two weeks you should be perfect! I’m signing now your papers you should be able to leave in a few days…
__I was afraid of it… David whispers to himself…
__Good , I’m so bored here.
__And you still look stunningly gorgeous…
__So, uncle David...did you know he does not have a tattoo? His hair on his chest draws a perfect triangle…
__Yes, I am aware of it Deirdre.
__Wait for me Triangled Chest Lituan, here I come.

....TO BE CONTINUED...

La femme Deirdre Vess:an English Spy - CHAPTER 1

My name is Deirdre Vess.
Vess. Borned and raised everywhere. I was taught to keep secrets, seduce, protect and help people.
Life is short and the world is very small. People are not the same.
I could never put the guilt on my parents of my passion for danger, restlessness, and seduction.
I was taught and learned by myself to protect my dreams.
Every human being will sleep well. Just rest your face on your pillow and I’ll sing for you. No one will bother you, I promise.
Deirdre Vess, I promise.
My greatest passions are horses and planes. Never do it for fun though because my pleasure lies on danger rather than tangible realities.
The only pleasures I have are hearing a child laughing and taking a walk on a winter day in the streets of Paris alone. Alone, always alone.
It keeps my inner energy alive because I feel, in fact I know my legs will take me anywhere I want to. Dislike the idea of a mountain coming up to me.
When I was a kid I had a dream of running, swimming and everything that surrounded me was moving fast just like in the movies. In the end of the road I hugged my little rabbit Leila.
Little tiny Leila. I am now in Venice, Italy. It is freezing cold. Three o´clock in the morning. I´m waiting for …fuckin´ shit…I never wait…hugh! Pow! Sock!


Deirdre falls on the floor and hits hard her head on the curb. One punch right in the nose and she fell unconsciously bleeding like a damaged horse. She is being dragged to someone´s car...

To be continued ...

I am an actress

After he said he always loved her a great kiss seals the lovers and at this big , giant screen appears " The end".
Crying, I leave the theatre and walk back to my car. In the still of night I have this dream with the actor but this time I am the one who he is in love with.
When I first got into Los Angeles I left the airport, the world right in front of me... I am right in front of me. Where is Sinatra driving his car? I wonder where Bob Fosse is choreographing for the next feature...Los Angeles haunts and kills dreams...
Beautiful ocean and the moon, the best fashion haute coiture stores I bump into this unbelivable bass player that I love so much...Blond girls with blues eyes, nice cars but where is Sinatra? The promise of happiness? That's what Hollywood showed to me.
Well,now it is me. It is me and ONLY me.
Yes, I learned to love myself. No matter what. I learned in Los Angeles you gotta to love yourself, baby... I learned in Los Angeles that Hollywood is inside of me.
The sun light in shining trough, it is early morning. I am supposed to open the coffee shop door and walk in and..."CUT!"
I'm ready for it. I bought it.
As I aproach the coffee shop door I look back and there he is, Frank Sinatra looking at me in his convertible car...he blinks his left eye, send me a kiss and I can clearly read his lips whispearing " Love you" as he steps on it...
When I hear " Action!" I am ready to open the door with a tear shed on my face. I walk in rapidly toward the man I am supposed to love and say " I have always loved you". We kiss.The music rises up.In this big,giant screen appears " The end". I am an actress.

Para Nadra

The little girl who dreams

A little who dreams…
She dreams…
And she pretends…all the time
She becomes something else
With the world
Tickles... speaking
Poignantly…yes
Little catty girl…free
Spinning and laughing
Yes
And she is…
Reaching for the stars
Sparks of light
No limits for love
She looks for the sun
She is never tired of it
With the wind
She rides on thunders
Says hi to the night
Then she rests on trees…
Bathes on waters
Surrounded by beings
Sounds
And silence
She dances…
She is telling her secret to everybody
Who is willing to hear
Light shines trough
She is reaching for the stars…
And up she goes….
She is flying away…
And up she goes…she is flying away…
And up she goes….
Reaching for the stars…
And up she goes…
She knows…she is flying away…
Up she goes….





Para Nadrinha e Zola

Querida fita crepe

Querida Fita Crepe
De Paula Gelly

Naquele dia ela acordou confusa. Nada fazia sentido. Era apenas a vontade ou necessidade que o tempo passasse. E nada. Não passava. Não passava de jeito nenhum. Tudo bem que não passasse, o problema era o corpo. Não sabia o que fazer com ele. Era tantas vontades, tanta fome, tanta sede que o mundo lhe saía pelo pescoço, a musculatura lhe tremia o sangue, seu estômago esmagava suas esperanças, e seus desejos comprimiam e apertavam no suor do seu buço. Coração, ora pulava, ora calava. Um mar de sensações que até parecia que já não tinha mais corpo- uma luta enfim. Não sabia como escapar de si. Não havia meios de se fazer isso. Não havia.
Começou então a pensar que se fechasse a janela do quarto talvez sentisse um alívio por não ter de se preocupar em “ser” para um mundo lá fora. Fechou. Funcionou. Tentou então todas as torneiras da casa, não deixou um pinguinho sequer escorrer dos canos. Fez xixi, se limpou muito bem, deu uma descarga bem dada e fechou a tampa do vaso. Trancou todas as portas dos armários, preencheu as frestas debaixo das portas, desplugou todos os telefone, televisão, TV à cabo, desconectou a internet, jogou no lixo a bateria de seu celular, tampou o lixo, vedou a geladeira, colocou a samambaia em cima da tampa da máquina de lavar. Por fim, fechou a porta da casa que dava para rua. Rodou a chave na fechadura duas vezes veementemente. Estava livre enfim. Estava presa.
Num súbito medo outra vez, pensou que num lapso de prazer poderia abrir a porta, então resolveu esconder as chaves.
Escondeu muito bem.
Escondeu as chaves onde jamais poderia achar. Ela escondeu as chaves dela mesma.
Sentou-se na poltrona da sala e ali ficou. Contemplava sua sala trancada e sentia-se aliviada. Bem à sua frente o móvel da televisão devidamente trancado, e ao seu lado no sofá muitos controles remotos com suas pilhas fora deles, recém arrancadas. Decidiu prendê-los também pois aqueles aparelhos todos soltos realmente afogavam-lhe a garganta. Enrolou-os então com sua fita crepe dando três voltas bem dadas. “Querida...” , aproveitou e enrolou seus punhos também.
Ah, agora sim. Finalmente presa. Sentada em sua sala lacrada , uma mulher trancada ficou durante horas, silenciosa.
No início da tarde ouviu uma voz humana que passava na rua cantarolando uma canção. Um calor lhe subiu o corpo, dos pés à cabeça. Sentiu inveja. Odiou a idéia de existir um pássaro por exemplo. Estava presa e assim deviam ser todos, não só ela. Quanto mais uma voz humana vindos de um ser provavelmente feliz. Não era justo. Não podia ser “ ...diacho...” pronunciou, chorando ,é claro. Sentiu então vergonha do que havia feito. Queria desfazer mas não sabia como. Não era humilde o bastante, tinha inveja de si e de toda a felicidade que era capaz de sentir. Não lembrava onde havia colocado as chaves.Teve uma idéia brilhante então.
Havia um chaveiro na esquina de sua casa ela sempre passava em frente saindo da padaria. Foi então que pensou que poderia ir até ele e mandar fazer uma cópia da chave para sua porta. Levantou-se abriu a porta, saiu e trancou-a outra vez. Foi até o chaveiro. Pediu cópias da chave. Ele o fez. Com a mestra e suas cópias dirigiu-se à casa e parou no meio do caminho. Sabia que se fosse sozinha fatalmente se trancaria outra vez. Voltou até o chaveiro e pediu para que ele a acompanhasse e abrisse ele próprio a porta. Bem, o chaveiro olhou bem a mulher presa e percebeu como ela era bonita e assustada. Ele então fechou seu estabelecimento, levou a mulher até sua porta, destrancou-a. Ela entrou e agradeceu muito, disse que sem ele , ela não conseguiria abrir a porta de sua casa. O chaveiro entendeu o que a mulher falou. Fim

A História da menininha que amava borboletas

Era uma vez uma menininha. Ela amava borboletas. Amava mesmo de verdade porque sabia que as borboletas contavam histórias. Elas começavam minhoquinhas em seus casulos e então transformavam sonho em realidade; escuridão em brilho; acolhimento em movimento; transformava vontades em espetáculos; transformava as cores; liberdade em paz; borboletas davam as mãos para um mundo inteiro. Esta menina da minha história conhecia muito bem o fiozinho, aquele fiozinho das histórias- o mesmo que a aranha tece.
Certa vez em sua casa, percebeu que havia um casulo grudadinho em uma árvore. Ela estava sempre atenta aos casulos, mas este ela não tinha visto, não havia percebido! Tentou lembrar-se de seu último pedido às estrelas e sim, havia pedido uma borboleta de cores rosa e verdes, vermelhas e douradas. Fez o pedido, mas não encontrava o casulo. Bem, eis que lá estava bem debaixo de seu nariz! E então seus dias foram povoados, preenchidos e nutridos pela surpresa de seu presente pedido às estrelas. Todo o dia sonhava com ela. Sonhava com o que seria sua borboleta. Sabia que não seria sua, mas dentro de seu pequeno coração o que era dela e dos outros compunham uma grande história só isso.
Já contava os dias. Sabia que estava quase. Naquela manhã foi direto lá pra fora antes mesmo de tomar café e então... Sim algo horrível aconteceu sinto dizer-lhes... O casulo estava despedaçado no chão com alguma coisa esquisita escorregando de dentro dele, algo que não se parecia nada com uma borboleta.... a menininha da minha história vejam vocês, não chorou nem uma lágrima sequer. Apenas não conseguiu entender o que havia acontecido. Ficou muito confusa. Quando a menina cresceu a confusão cresceu junto com ela. O que era pra sair ela deixava bem guardado dentro dela; o que era pra ficar ela jogava pra bem longe para não gostar; o que era movimento ficou parado em sua garganta; o que era fome virou medo; o que era dia virou tristeza; e o que era noite continuou noite pra sempre no coração da menina que amava borboletas

Pata de Menino

Mãozinha de um menino
Ilumina o caminho
Desde o fiozinho
Até a vida inteira
Protegido pela inocência
Menino de mãozinha
Abraçando seu melhor amigo
Tigre branco
Aproxima e põe ordem
Em tudo que eu não sei falar
Correndo contra o vento
Pelas árvores
Escorregando no ar
Eu vou cuidar
Enquanto isso ele sabe observar
E proteger
E prometer
Tanta verdade na pata do menino
Que até me faz chorar

Para Pedro Gelly

cachinhos dourados

Chachinhos de ouro
Mulheres maravilha
Comecinho de vida
Elvis Presley com frango à passarinho
Mulher bonita e loura
Que penteia os cabelos para ir à praia
Milagres verdadeiros
Um vento soprou no meu rosto
Senti felicidade
Tem um bebezinho na barriga da minha prima

Abandono

Abandono

Abandonada para cair no chão
Down on the floor
Abandono
Loucura pela sua boca
Ai
Devorar
O mundo
Devora e abandona
Atrás do junto
Tem o abandono
Eu me rendo:
Abandonada, entregue
Assim, parecida com a lua

Iso 9000

Iso 9000

Paixão enlouquecedora
Esqueço
Abrindo
Todas as articulações
Coisa maluca
No peito
Você perto
Dentro
Proteger da realidade
Para que não esmague nossos sonhos
Única.
Ninho precioso.
Corrente de desejos.
Antigo feitiço.
Com você.
Você quer?

deep compassion for the dark

de Paula Gelly


O fim de tudo bem debaixo dos meus pés
Que uma tempestade varra todas as casas
Que um vendaval assole todas as plantações
Ventos do Norte
Bem na palma da minha mão
Assoprem sem piedade
Inspirem a força dos vulcões a derramarem suas lavas cobrindo as cidades
Que a força da gravidade se revolte
E mande todos os aviões para o chão
Que o sol não seja testemunha
Que o mundo escureça para sempre: eu estou amando

discurso amoroso

Desde já gostaria de dizer que está tudo acabado entre nós.
Acabada, terminada, destruído.
Desmantelado, desossado, destituído.
Derrotado,destroçado, desintegrado, detonado, demolido.
Exterminado, desatualizado, desmilinguido.
Assassinado, massacrado, partido.
Digo isso meu amor porque te amo.
Te amo.
Te amo tanto que nao será possível amar alguém tanto assim.
Não posso me sentir assim tão próxima de alguém.
Então porque te amo vou te odiar muito.