August 26th, 2015 by


It is almost morning. For ever so long I face sunrise. Here, on small-island of rock of no name. Just I, with forever chill pressing, forever gulls screeching…. You see, I was mounted high by Norsemen ages and ages ago. I, and constant birth of north-storms a-blowing…. And, I clang. Clang, so the long-boats will not smash upon the hidden-rock within old-tide that roars below…. Yet, the Norsemen, their dragon-headed ships are past’s gone…. Only I, Bell, remains…. Here, always here with my prayer. I pray to be taken.Taken far away from the north. From its’ cold, purple mist, from its’ mean sea with its’ relentless charge of white-caps. Pray to be took for far’s distance, that not memory will miss nor seek my clang…. For I am long’s loneliness of placed-damned. For I am long’s endless night. Pure night of dark-blanket beneath dull, down-casted star. Even the curse’th fog lingers, blocking silent moon….Then, those come’th in parts, the mad stretch of time; where days, not knowing days go on attached to each other. Where sun knowing giving but a spot of yellow with nay warmth; there above, dim and hating down… hating down…. Come’th the worst misery; rain, weeks of rain! Wet! Whipped by more wet, wet cloaked upon me, wrapped against me with uncaring dawns….Ooh, I am old bell left to clang…. Ooh,I am old bell left to clang….BY God! By God! Even ‘His’ wind tears up into me; round and round it blows bringing pain bringing hurt straight to my very heart…..

‘But yes! And I say yes again!…. I, Bell, hear tell’th, say’th of one such prisoner. One placed as I. Whence he set’th free, shall come for me.. Yes!.. Shall come for poor Bell. Come and take me up ! Take me across vast sea. Away from ice, away from wind, away from horizon’s biting, bitter blue…. Here, yes here’th, my prisoner pray save me so…. Save me off. Off to pink, soft sand, to sweet, warm breeze..Aah, to clang ever slowly…..ever lowly…. Me, Bell…. That, my prisoner savior will mount Bell to watch….

‘Watch hippos waltz in the surf. Hippos, one two and three. Ooh me, yes, me Bell…. I shall clang for much joy…. Me, just me to watch.. Watch hippos waltz in the surf.’aYAcizW5ugygDYY0v5DWi0BH_nLiXqk2BwInVZU-fOTtGXPwqtHRw9gkKk9VXls-YvD45Q=s125

By: George Martorano
Copyright: 12973


To all and all ….Please be so kind and look for the finale of the on-going tale [ Enter Any Room ] in near future .Seems the hotel in story , had a fire ; all were evacuated and misplaced.. but just a bit … Once, main characters regroup ….Tale shall interestingly end ! I promise…. Thy, Professor Handsome Jack [ G. M.]

Enter Any Room [ part 3 ] A Fictional Masterpiece

August 21st, 2015 by


It was warm out. I see they ain’t got guns, could have them hidden down around their ankles though, but there’s nothing that serious I did, except for the coke, but still that ain’t a killing offense. No, that offense, gets you this; ‘ you gotta give us some of ‘a cash or forget a’bout it ‘.

“Sure, I’ll go up….” ,and I went. When I noticed they didn’t watch every move I made or follow…. I knew the heat wasn’t really on me.

There was another one stationed out front of Margo’s office.

“You Eddy….?” I nodded yes and he opened up the office door.

There, inside, were two more, oh, and Margo; tied to a chair and his face busted up.

“It’s like this, Eddy. This bum sellin’ things he done own….”

“Who you’s wit’ ?” I quickly shot in, and I was quickly told what Mob family they were with. Also, I added up quickly that my visit to Newark with my old friend there; got quickly back to Brooklyn.

“What’a we do now?” I ask.

“Well, it’s like this”,and the bigger one starts explaining things to me ; ending up with, “we waitin’ on the boss, see.”

I knew who that was. I also knew I’m on my own here, ’cause I wasn’t getting nobody involved, like my main hood guy from Philly. So, all I could do was wing it and winging things could make a guy from another town; a guy who ain’t supposed to be here….Disappear. Disappear in either city. Especially when there’s bad problems, violent problems in your own town….It’s like this ; fellas got enough on their minds; no time for this or that ,so, one can get, how you say it, get cut-to-the-chase ….Dead. Plus, thank God these guys and their boss are ok with the Philly mob…. But, oh yeah ! And I mean, forget a’bout it ! That, can get tricky too.

Seems this Margo guy owed a lot of money and he didn’t even own the club ;they did…. I was also shown the wide, open window there in the office ;where four stories below was an alleyway where a dumpster stood. The two slowly ‘ explained ‘ what they were gonna do if the boss approved ;throw Margo head-first out the window; then scoop him up into the friggin’ dumpster.

“….oh?” I says, nice and easy-like.

But, it seems their boss couldn’t make it until much later. The guys in the office didn’t mind, no; all they did was switch with the ones down at the bar, so they could go party down there with the broads.

No use in me hanging around so I asked if I could come back.

“….yeah, it’a be best. After all, the boss heard ’bout yew, says yew’s a good guy. But yew meetin’ bout this joint, meetin’ bout a lot of cash and ain’t touchin’ base wit’ nobody don’t help any, get my meanin.”

Right then and there I knew they already got in touch with Philly and my troubles were growing by the hour.

“….so how ’bout midnight?” I asked when I should come back. I was told ok but one added, ”but don’t us have to come lookin’ for ya…. we know where Danny lives.” I knew if I didn’t come back; I was sending Danny straight to a local hospital ,most likely busted up real bad too and Danny didn’t even know who the hell I was.


And so, that’s the reason I’m sitting here, a little boozed up….eyes drifting easy-like through Manhattan night and along Manhattan skyline. Yeah,just sitting here with a top movie star sound asleep in my hotel bed….go figure.

I didn’t want to, but I did. I slowly turned my wrist to the right angle… and looked at my watch. The time was near, very near. I had to make the ten minute or so stroll to the club.

Some time ago, a long hour or so back, I should of went looking for a piece, not such a hard thing for a guy like me. Then I would be venturing up those long stairs to the office and the maybe-dead-or-alive Margo…. But armed.

I placed the glass of booze on the night table, bent forward, gave a glance at the rug, exhaled an headed for the bedroom.

She’s still here, except this time the covers were pulled back, her blonde hair lying upward .Ooh….and that blue, New York light sneaking in; a strange, wide line of soft blue across her face and neck…. Such a lovely sight.

I never really got to talk to her. She was drunk and she didn’t know who I was. When she awakens, she’ll not even know where she’s been sleeping.

“….crazy world, ain’t it Star?” I only said low.. and headed out.


You know, when a body is heading towards danger, seems everything is different. Why, a guy can see, smell and hear most anything….. Like I did walking along Third Avenue tonight.

The only thing that makes me feel a little nice was all that cash piled up in the closet-safe…. Cash, just a few feet from the boozed-up sleeping dreamy star.

[ to be continued ]

By: George Martorano

Enter Any Room (Part 2) A Fictional Masterpiece

August 16th, 2015 by

I always worked out. There was a fancy gym a couple blocks from the hotel. Across the street after work-outs, I stop in this lively club, so lively, it had action going on three different floors. Through a sweet, lingerie model I meet the so-called owner, Margo. We get to talkin’, he tells me he wants to open up a joint down in South Beach, but he needs a hands-on partner here, along with a quarter-mil down.

I know the place turns money over. What I also know is, when a so-called Italian guy; club owner, ain’t mentioning any Mob guys he’s connected to….something’s up.

But I liked the idea. I had the dough right there in New York. Margo said we’ll bring lawyers in to handle the paperwork; silently in my mind I started agreeing to everything.Yet, only showing Margo with positive nods from my head.


Then, I took a short limo ride to Newark, New Jersey, see an older Mob buddy of mine. I told, him ’bout the club deal, even told him about the cash I had in New York. Just to see if he needed some working capital for anything. This old pal in Jersey was a good, honest Joe.

He turns me down for the loan and says he’ll check this Margo guy out.


When I got back to New York, it’s early evening so’s I stopped by the lounge in the hotel lobby.

You know the kind of place, lots of dark, shining wood, soft music, nice chairs and a union bartender, a bartender I knew.

The place wasn’t that crowded…..Yet, quickly noticing the movie star sitting by herself; I guessed drunk having some sort of loud conversation…. with no one sitting across from her.

She was a star that’s been around for a while, forty, maybe, pretty blonde, and I ain’t gonna mention her name.

All I did was send her a drink…. Then went to the wall phone in a dark corner.

Next thing I knew, I’m on the phone and she’s standing in front of me, holding onto the drink, telling me how much she hates men.

“….oh, boy,” I say to myself after I hung up, turned heading out a side door for the lobby….

The movie star is talking….Following….. Then she’s right up on me. And I notice she’s now got this carry-on bag hanging over her shoulder. I wondered why she just picked up and left the bar like that.

“….you alright?” Is all I ask…. and she keeps at it about men and going on here and there about her life.

Then, she pops out….”You got a room? I need to rest.”

“Why don’t you go home?” I say.

“No, there isn’t one anymore,” she answered.

“Look, Star,” I’ll label her ‘ Star,’ “you need to eat something. Go home. Better yet, I get you a room here, how’s that?”

“You don’t understand,” she straightened up as if she was some brainy college professor. “I need to rest and I don’t wish to be alone.” I think to myself she’s acting for Christ sake.

“Look, you don’t even know me Star.”

“…. do you know me?” She asked and stared at me.

“Of course I do. Who doesn’t “, I saw a touch of glee come into her eyes.

“I heard you speak to the bartender. You’re known around here. I can tell you aren’t a bad sort.”

“Listen Star, I ain’t looking for….”

“Please don’t say it,” she interrupted, “sex, I mean. I’m older than you, I can see that.” She sipped her drink, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and continued. “I’m drunk, you already know that. You’re handsome, you know that too,” she sighed….”I won an Oscar, been nominated more than once….”

“I know….”, I cut her off, looked at my watch.

“You have to be somewhere?”

I did want to get back with Margo, that money sitting in the safe upstairs, had to go to work.

Then I heard….”Please….”. It came from her in such a despairing way; most likely acting again.

“Ah geez, come on Star.” I stepped away…. hitting the elevator button…. She got closer. I caught her perfume.


When we enter my suite she dropped the bag and just went into the first bathroom…. Came out…. Found the bedroom, slipped out of her high-heels…. While I stood in the bedroom door; stood in the dim light…. watching as she nestled under the bed covers…. some of that blonde hair of her’s sticking out and nothing else.

“Geez….”, all I did was walk over to the drapes , pulled the cord drawing them together some, and headed out.


When I got to the club, it’s a little after eight. Place got some after-five executive types about, along with women who finished their work-outs after work; changed into other clothes of course for a fun evening I guess. Just lots of women who didn’t want to go home to empty apartments.

Soon as I got twenty feet into the club I picked up on the fellas, Mob guys. You know the type. There were two of them at the bar. They picked up on me too. Funny how street-guys can do that.

One waved me over….”Margo’s upstairs,” he motioned with his chin….”think you better go up.”

“Anything wrong….?” I stared into them.

“Yeah, not wit’ you though. Relax. Go up. You’ll see.”

(To be continued)

By: George Martorano
Copyright: 12973

Enter Any Room (PART 1) A Fictional Masterpiece

August 9th, 2015 by

It was night, just the deep of it. I sat in a high back chair; my legs up, resting them on a window’s ledge….The sound and smell of Manhattan lazily stirred in, beyond and above up to the 14th floor where I sat, where my suite was…. Near my right hand, on a night-table, was a glass of Dewar’s Scotch, straight and half full.

I’ve been sitting there some time, so I felt relaxed, well, maybe a bit more than relaxed. After all, it was a long day, a crazy day. Days of that sort I couldn’t seem to get away from.

Speaking of getting away, is the reason I was in New York.

I’m Italian, maybe a bad one and away from the city I was born in Philadelphia.

My name’s Eddy and we’ll leave it at that. There’s a Mob war going on there, Philly, I mean. Was I active in it? Who knows. Was I here in New York waiting for the last act, acts of violence to cool off? Who knows. Does anybody in this town, at least where I’m lying low, know who I am? No!

You’re asking yourself, what’s this guy trying to say or does he have to talk about?

So I’ll answer that, and since I’m sitting here a little boozed up….I’ll start from he beginning.

Since I was a teen, I’ve been coming the hundred miles across New Jersey to Manhattan….Why….? What else, to party. Ain’t no city on earth like the Big Apple as long as you got dough and know how and where to spend it.

Oh, when I was a kid, it was coming here with a couple hundred bucks. A cheap room off of Forty-second Street. A buddy and I would stay a few days, wind up partying with some older, burned-out-broads, then head back home to the hard-working jobs we had.

Now, and of course the years flew by, I ain’t no kid and I ain’t broke either.

But a smart guy like me doesn’t bother with a car. No, you take the train here or have your limo pick you up, if your driver ain’t out turning dollars with it at the time your in need or when you hit town for that matter.

My driver, Danny, a Greek guy, born and raised in Manhattan, was a good hustler. Danny could turn profit of a couple grand a week, in his pocket take-home pay for him and his family. Wasn’t a bad-looking guy, dressed in black all the time….And guess what, even after I laid out twenty-five grand for the almost-new limbo; a limo that we kept parked for free in front of the hotel lobby; I’m sitting high above of…. neither Danny nor the hotel’s exec’s know who I am. Oh, they surmised I might be connected in some sort of way, but what gets them confused is I never go across town to Little Italy in downtown New York to eat. No, I stay away from other Mob guys for a reason. When you’re laying low, it is best.

Anyway, I let Danny and a couple of the hotel’s doormen work the limo when I’m not in town. When I’m around, especially at night, I need it. But at times when I am in town, I gotta work around the steady customers Danny’s got. It’s usually in the late mornings, so’s it don’t hurt much.

Oh, one more thing I should include in this story that is unfolding. I ain’t a bad-looking guy, really. Got the brown hair and eyes most guys from the boot got, but I got that special look, if you know what I mean.

Getting on with the tale….Danny tells me one day that a lot of the limo customers want broads. I tell him straight out I ain’t no pimp. Danny knows not to ask me twice when I answer something straight and hard. So’s he asks me another one in a day or two, asks me about coke, you know the drug. I did move pot back in my day, but no coke. I didn’t like the added violence that came with it. Lord knows I was up to my eyeballs in serious violence with guys just as tough as me.

But Danny kept at me about the coke, says he only wanted to sell grams, says he and the doormen could bring in extra money ’cause they all have families, kids going to college and all that stuff.

So’s I hooks ’em up with one of the guys back home in Philly. Tell this guy to go see so-and-so and then go to New York, see Danny. Tells ’em nothin’ big, stay small, cause I’m in New York to lay low. Don’t need any of the New York guys getting wind I’m moving drugs in New York. Christ, another war will break out, me against a fuckin’ army in that town.

So that done and more heat from the on-going war in Philly, I decide to fly to northern California to check out the high-grade pot they grow up there. Knew an old hippie from when I was a kid bouncing around in L.A.

I stayed out there a month lining a couple of things up. When I get back to New York via a short stay in Philly, Danny looks nervous, even has to have a drink with me before he spills the beans. He goes and tells me that the gram business went good, so good he went to selling ounces to a lot of Wall Street types, getting twenty-two hundred a pop.

“….and?” I says.

“Well, boss, seems I got a hundred and eighty grand in the safe up in your suite.”


So, my hard-working family man, Danny the Greek, got me in something I was totally trying to avoid, turning serious dollars in a town I ain’t supposed to, let alone be in.

Quickly, I shut Danny down, but not before he tells me my Philly guy just left here, leaving him a lot of coke, stuff he can’t just give back and take the chance of it getting busted.

To make a long story short, Danny had to sell what was left.

In two weeks, my hotel room safe had close to half-a-mil in it, and that was only my end.

But after those two weeks, Danny was truly out of the drug business. Me, I took to looking over my shoulder now in Manhattan, as well as Philly.

Well, now I had money to burn, but I wasn’t a guy who gambled or even got high.

[ to be continued ]

By: George Martorano
Copyright: 12973

Thee Unbosoming

August 9th, 2015 by

All was still. All was quiet. The sunlight beamed strong through the thick glass. I was bent over at first…. Slowly went to my knees…. That sun commanded itself all around “us” and what I stared at…. Looking so looking, at the unexplored, blue veld. A blue that I never saw nor could imagined. A blue at first, was just blue….Yet, within long moments that blue became another shade and another shade and so forth and beyond….With those moments tiny objects began to appear upon the changing blue…. Came specks of black and they began to move as if the smallest of arms…. Beckoning, beckoning….. The sun, oh, that sun was the wand that brought the magic…. When a tint of yellow started in. I knew what I saw, I would never see again. Yes, those two, two blue creations were there all “alone”; a separation from all that remained of a single-history; alone, revealing naked and looking out. Looking, searching for the center of me; dots narrowing into me. There, yes there upon a patch of caged earth. A tight realm of stillness; yet my mind-moving, mind-shifting to the very hallow of all human thought…. As I continued to be amazed with a-wondering, a-connecting. That not only could-this-happening-blue, could be of “thus”; thus of green, of brown, of green and gray, of brown and gold, of many of the small world of color, color to drift in ; swallowed in, last, be lost in. And all one had to do, tis, be trapped in man’s built hell. Trapped just at the right sadden-time; a time…. “soul” departs.

“Get back Martorano, get back”!

“Must be a heart attack, he’s not breathing “! Said the other guard.

I stood back as was ordered…. They placed Ralph on the orange stretcher….And gone gone….

“Did you apply CPR Martorano?”

“….yes “.

” Then what was you staring at ? ”

“….his eyes “.

“….eyes ” ?

“To marry the soul “.

By George Martorano