. if you let me . If you let me I will be the shining light That peeks over your horizon To start your day I will be Michelangelo When I paint your toe nails… More
on the corner of Love And Poetry
I have journeyed through the great metropolis
Of her heartfelt poems and adoring words
Where shadows illuminate the lonely alleys
That lead to the core of her lonesome heart
A hushed community of boundless emotions
As the neighborhoods between her lonely lines
Gently breathe life in the darkened avenues
That create the loveless gridlock in her soul
Word traffic flows within her poetic locales
As smooth as her affections & graffiti rhymes
While her metaphors become my mass transit
Forever transporting me to gardens of desire
Walking the boulevards of her warm verses
I am convinced we were always meant to be
‘ver since we met under a bright street lamp
On the romantic corner of Love and Poetry
Photo taken from Google Images.
these vagabond days
look at me
I am a vagrant
forever drunk on your words
an aimless wanderer
with no need of a compass
since mine only points to you
I am a gypsy
humming a song
as I loiter on your poetry
dreaming of a home
in the sanctuary
of your arms
these vagabond days
lead to lonely nights
longing to be with you
It’s good to be back. My vagabond days are over (for now).
the essence of you
Fragrances come and go
While your scent lingers
Breathing new life
like a paramedic
mouth to mouth, soul to soul
For you are a potpourri of aromas
A bouquet of love poems
Enchanting my senses
A whiff of romance
On a starry night in June
You are the perfume
Resuscitating my heart
As I breathe love
Every time I inhale
The essence of you
The Pharaoh’s Wife
“Can love last forever?”
“How dare you ask me after I’ve watched my Aziza die one hundred deaths?”
Painful memories clicked through Amani’s mind like old time flicker films of the silent era, each heartbreaking recollection reopening ancient wounds.
Angelo interrupted, “I didn’t mean to…”
“I’ve watched her die at the hands of barbarians, disease, slave owners, and the Black Death.”
“Time can heal the wounded heart, but it can hurt the waiting heart.”
Hands aching from all of the times he’s buried Aziza, Amani sighed.
“Can love last forever? Eternity wouldn’t be enough time to love her.”
Palace guard Amani is cursed to live forever when he is caught making love to the Pharaoh’s wife. Millenniums later, he befriends Angelo, a cranky Vietnam veteran who searches for his long lost love. Sharing the story of his five thousand year journey searching for his perpetually reincarnating twin flame, Amani the immortal, learns the true meaning of life from his dying friend.
Originally titled “The Pharaoh’s Wife,” my current manuscript (first draft) is the story of two men, an immortal and a dying man, sharing their tales of love and life. I am considering “Eternity,” “Forever,” and “A Time For Us” as titles. Thus, it officially remains unnamed.
This manuscript, my notes. and outline, have been registered and are protected by the U.S. Copyright Office (within the Library of Congress).
While today is my three year blog anniversary, multiple eyes surgeries forced me on a long hiatus and limited my actual blogging time to barely one and a half years.
As my long time followers already know, I suffer from permanent blurred vision. My eyesight may be blurred, but I can clearly see that I wouldn’t be here without your wonderful support.
To celebrate (perhaps amuse is a better word) I have included the first poem I ever wrote in my life. On November 3, 2015, I penned and posted this poem (and image). It was my first crude attempt at writing poetry.
for so long
for so long
I adored her through my window
far too long
I suffered her silent tears
this siren breathes unappreciated
retreating in the shadows of her fears
for so long
he abused her with indifference
far too long
drowning in her love in vain
if only she would let me adore her
my tears can wash away her pain
Please, excuse my slow return from vacation. The change in climate from Cancun to New York has me sick as a dog. I will be responding to your comments and reading your wonderful posts.
My three step plan on how I will live the rest of my life: LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH
life is a carousel
No use crying over spilled milk
Don’t worry over your reservations
In heaven or hell
Our time is too brief
Life is a carousel
Forget the lovers you lost
Or the pounds
That you suddenly found
It’s one ticket per customer
To ride this glorious merry go round
My next post will be in two weeks on Friday (yes Friday) September 21st; my three year blogging anniversary.
On Monday I begin my next adventure.
Eight days of writing, beaching, and Cancun-ing,
My dear friends you will be missed.
My laptop will quietly weep for you.
This is a little throw back to my fiction roots. A short story originally, written in 2016, I now converted it into 100 words.
The Sorcerer’s Wife
Our writhing bodies glistened with perspiration when he stormed in.
Most betrayed husbands would savagely behead the passionate lovers. Not the evil Sorcerer, he denied me the most exquisite finale of all; death in her loving arms.
He tossed a mystic powder. A purple dust cloud transformed Isabella into a doe.
Next, the Sorcerer converted me into the most loathsome predator; the hyena.
Now, I watch her grazing in the ominous forest; moving with a familiar grace.
For years I coveted beautiful Isabella.
Oh, the bittersweet irony.
As foul spittle drips from my hungry fangs, I crave her even more.