Joker At My Door

As daylight began to melt away and the mysteries of the night fell upon me, I found myself concealed under a mantle of smog, foolishly wandering alone down unknown narrow cobbled side streets, with no idea where I was going or where I'd end up.

 

My memory was as fuddled as the weather, having no concept of who I was, but then dreams often give you a new identity or an obsession with being a different you.

 

I'd watched the scene play out many times, there wasn't any strategy to my straying, just a curiousness as to the reason of finding myself at the door to an auditorium. 'Should I open and enter? What would be waiting on the other side?' Without even touching the handle, at the blink of an eye I was transported magically within, leaving the suffocating pollution behind.

 

Now! Here I was in the vastness of a magnificent theater, empty of an audience, but with plush red and green velvet seats looking like they belonged to another era. High up on the walls were tapestries of voluptuous women lying naked beneath trees, while men looked on with swords in sheaths, in their hands were half eaten apples which they held up to the cobalt sky, as if in representation of something important.

 

The essence of this place gave me a feeling I'd been here before, but I had no idea where or when it was. My eyes were drawn to a stage up front where some young guys were setting up their band equipment and whistling some tune that fails my memory.

 

Without any idea I was standing there watching, they carried on with what they were doing. Their clothes were from the early 1970s, with tight fitted cheese cloth shirts and bell bottom trousers. One of the lads wore an afghan coat, his long, dark straggly hair sweeping past his shoulders  as he bent down to adjust some cables ready to be plugged into amps.

 

I was poised, scouting the room wondering if anyone would notice me hovering by the door. As if my thoughts had been read, the guy with the afghan coat looked up, gathering the long cable flex. He whistle and waved me up onto the stage with a Cheshire cat grin as if I was expected.

 

At this point the guy in front that looked quite bohemian from the back turned and gazed out at me, his mousy shoulder length hair which was parted in the middle covering his face, was swept back to reveal what I can only describe as unearthing a hidden gem.

 

I had no idea he was no longer with us, but I stood astonished as David Bowie urged me up on the stage, with a smile that could melt your heart and have it performing cartwheels, my whole being was euphoric as I felt myself moving ever closer to my hero. Reaching the front, he pulled me up on stage saying how great it was I could make it.

 

“I want you to stay with me tonight.” David uttered in a matter of fact way, putting his arm around my shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

 

Yet I couldn't make out why he would want me, I was just a nobody who lived in a dream world of make believe.

 

Again he read my thoughts. Cupping my cheeks in his soft hands and drawing me close, he whispered in my ear. “For tonight you're my muse, you inspire my music.”

 

Well! What could I say to that? His mellow voice and accolades had me elated. I wasn't going to try and rationalize any of this, just go with the flow and revel in this most perfect moment.

 

My balance became unsteady as the stage began to revolve, it was like being on a fairground ride, as the auditorium rotated and my head was spinning. David took my hand and the stage came to a sudden halt. We found ourselves in what appeared to be a brothel with naked bodies strewn across the floor. I felt embarrassed, troubled and unsure of what was going on, but David reassured me that if I didn't want to join them that was fine by him.

 

He then took me out an exit door and we ended up in another side street. I could hear many people conversing as he led me along the cobbles. As we turned a corner there were queues of youngsters all waiting to get into the theater. “Hey! Cool!” David announced smiling. “Looks like a full house tonight.”

 

Pulling me closer, he kissed me tenderly on the lips. “This is all down to you my love.” He whispered. I closed my eyes as his sweet talking voice gave me shivers, suddenly I felt so beautiful and special, as if I was the only person that mattered to him.

 

When finally my eyes opened we were no longer in the street, but back in the theater, me still holding David's hand and sauntering through the audience that were now seated, back towards the stage. He proudly announced that I was his muse and to let us through. The girls were all dressed in the same gear of flares and cheese cloth shirts, including myself, but I felt like a VIP.

 

I could see the females were attentive to his charms as they giggled among themselves in an atmosphere that was electric. As me and David clambered up on the stage, Bowie then picked up a guitar and began to sing, it wasn't a number I recognized, but he announced that the title was called: Exhaling. Sitting to the side of the stage, his voice rang out in mellow tones.

 

Bring to bear your struggles

I'll trade gifts for your pain,

hold breath in...then exhaling

in honor of your good name,

 

don't plunge into destruction

sinking down without a fight,

remember the rule in exhaling

letting problems all take flight,

 

golden moments huddled close

like fleeting glances drifting by,

need time to consider exhaling:

our virtues pass need time to fly,

 

If troubles I can lighten up

reduce an overwhelming cup,

guide you exhaling of lament

of burdens that you confront,

 

I'm not the joker at your door

connecting dots for your addiction,

examine feelings...exhaling plight;

listen! Hear my final goodnight.

 

No more songs for Bowie to sing, just this one for me. The audience applauded as he left the stage, each girl gazed in wonder. I felt myself floating on a cloud of love and affection for this man.

 

The scene suddenly changed and we were once again walking down those narrow, cobbled streets. His arm around my shoulder he guided me to a door, though I have to say the house wasn't familiar.

 

“Thank you for a great night!” He declared. “I'm off to see UB 40, relax and chill out with the fans.”

 

What a crazy thing for David Bowie to announce! I thought, staring down at the ground. Having no idea what was going on I paused to find the right words to say, but when looking up he was gone.

 

Walking in this strange house, I shut the door, but then wondered why I wasn't going with him. Going back out, I searched around but he was no where to be seen. The smog had returned and with it a grotesque squeaky voice, laughing hysterically and claiming. “It was just a whimsical farce.”

 

I turned but the door to my house had disappeared. Then! Thankfully I woke up, it was all a dream.