never meant to be

never meant to be

we lay on a lonesome beach
tides shift between reality and fantasy
red lips kiss the yesterday we never had
as we dream of eternity
fireflies illuminate the night
forming horoscopes
foretelling no promises of tomorrow

our eyes express
things our mouths will never see
the moonless sky torments
our love is an unborn child
who was never meant to be

breathe

breathe

she knits her verses
into my heart
with melancholy thread
forever words
entwined in every chamber
which no palpitation can unstring

inhaling her poems
I exhale the metaphors she weaves
she is the falsetto of my sigh
the muse who resuscitates
for she writes the poetry
that I breathe

déjà vu

déjà vu

it’s happening again
I awakened to the overture
of a familiar verse
as vivid as a reocurring dream
radiant rays of words
came in waves
blessing every pulse
of my dawnless heart
with resuscitating poetry

basking in the beautiful warmth
of a never ending déjà vu
today I fell in love
again and again
when a poem
reminded me of you

Write Your Own Story

Write Your Own Story

This is exactly how I start my blogging day. My coffee mug reminding me I am the author of my life.

I have come to realize that New York and my current lifestyle consume so much of my time, my manuscript goes unattended. Too many friends, ex-girlfriends, parties, and after hours. There is always something fun to do.

With that in mind, on Friday afternoon I flew down Orlando, Florida in search of a new apartment (where I can write in peace). I decided on Central Florida because it is the perfect place to explore the entire state while I decide where I want to plant new roots. That is my birthday gift to myself.

I considered my beloved Miami, but it would only be reliving the same problems I face in New York (see above).

As my close friends know trying new restaurants is my hobby. So, tonight (April 8th), for my birthday, I will be dining at Cuban singer Gloria Estefan’s restaurant Bongos Cuban Cafe.

I will catch up with all of you when I return to blogging next Tuesday.

Have a great week.

is it time

is it time

how about now
I ask for the hundredth time
she always replies no
it makes me think
someone broke her heart
or she prefers to be alone
this man needs the inspiration of a sigh
the magic of a woman’s touch
sooner or later
my heart must love again
so I cling to hope
tomorrow I will ask her
is it time
beautiful metronome
my dear devoted friend

you

you

You are the elegance of a whisper
The deep longing in my verse
The passion of a first kiss
The crescendo of a sigh

You are a garden of fantasies
An arrangement of dreams
The bloom of my smile
A bouquet of sunsets

You are the reason I breathe
The exhale of my balladry
You are a sonnet of love
A scent of poetry

a melancholy song

a melancholy song

outside my window
a bird sang a melancholy song
of infinite beauty and endless love
her lyrics resonated
like a gentle percussion of bubbles
popping in the recesses of my bones

she serenaded me
you will never see the stars
if you fail to peer
into the galaxies of her eyes
why wander the world
when you haven’t ridden a gondola
to the frontiers of her soul

the bird sang of orange sunsets
and skies forever blue
her song reminded me
there can be no true happiness
if I have everything
except for you