I am a novelist/screenwriter swimming upstream against the violent currents of life. Fighting the usual obstacles every writer has to confront; rejected queries, distractions, loneliness, editing, writer's block, and NEEDING to have my voice heard.
who am i to tell the roses not to bloom how do I stop the hands of time or silence a lonely wolf howling at the moon how can i not think of you it’s like asking my heart to remember not to bleed or a pianist who lost his hands to forget his keys my beautiful muse tell me I can lock these thoughts out convince me I can put doors upon the sea
Recently purchased two 100 foot extension cords. This poem and every poem scheduled to post in April, were written under a palm tree.
my restless heart can’t sleep ever since she soaked my dreams like a warm summer shower of fireflies and fantasies cascading radiance onto my soul splashing away the darkness causing my moons to shine every sunrise to glow my life is one sleepy blur sleep or reality i don’t know just let me die of insomnia so i continue dreaming of her
There will be a short funny post on Wednesday. Feel free to drop by and celebrate my birthday with me. xo
During a depressing night where my headaches and dizzy spells drained any hope I had, I reached for my phone and discovered an email with a voice recording.
There were delightful pauses in this one sided conversation, but everything about the message, her soft voice, her pauses, her sweetness revitalized me.
Sadly, this little poem does not do justice. I dedicate this to that voice to die for. Thank you. 🌹
a voice came to me
loneliness thundered when a soft voice came to me landing on my five o’clock shadow like a lightning bug determined to tickle my cheek while her little healing light outshined my torment stifling the echoes inside my heart as her deafening silence spoke to me her voice shined like the stars illuminating my night resembling a constellation of fireflies absorbing the darkness in my universe of misery
“There is no perfection, only beautiful versions of brokenness.” – Sharon L Adler, inspirational author of 300 Questions To Ask Your Parents Before It’s Too Late.
Life has an amazing way of touching us. During these months of illness and recovery, my precious friend Rachel of In Mind and Out, has reached out to me in my loneliest moments, lifting my spirits. We often joke about being “broken.” This wonderful poet and caring woman fails to see the beauty of her imperfections as her brokenness helped repair mine. Please, get to know Rachel, one of the Inspiring Women of WordPress.
beautifully broken you
fragments of a mirror reflecting multiple moons in the night making the parts more beautiful than the whole fractured sunsets of healing warmth and light in need of an ointment of poetry to cure a jagged soul shatterd moonlight and splintered sunsets create a stunning view reminding me of my darling kintsugi beautifully broken you
Poetically translated to “golden joinery,” Kintsugi, or Kintsukuroi, is the centuries-old Japanese art of fixing broken pottery. Rather than rejoin ceramic pieces with a camouflaged adhesive, the Kintsugi technique employs a special tree sap lacquer dusted with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.
I am a firm believer of things happening the way they were mean to happen.
Yesterday evening, the Dominican government shutdown all flights through April 30th. Jetblue was not able to accomodate me on the last emergency flight leaving to Costa Rica.
The United States Embassy asked all remaining Americans to find safe shelter to wait out the process. They implied any last emergency flights out of the country may be risky since they suspect several people with coronoavirus symptoms may be trying to escape the island in search of proper medical treatment.
Fifty plus doctors have tested positive. Dozens of police officer, too. Patient’s testing positive for coronavirus are thrown in an isolated room, where nurses and doctors are fearful of entering since there are no respirators or proper treatment available.
Taking advantage of the curfews and civil unrest, young thugs have taken to the streets since police presence is low. One police officer was killed in one town. Several police men injured in others.
Will speak to my doctor later in the day. Surgery will be cancelled & rescheduled for late May. My pills will run out soon. Will ask the doctor to suggest equivalent replacements. Nurse will assist me to find the meds.
a slow dance our cheeks melting my melancholy clinging to your soul i shut off the moon so we dance at the edge of an eclipse as my loneliness gyrates in the darkness pressing gently against your hips I inhale your womanhood it inspires me to kiss a poem onto your neck the one I could never think of the one confessing I desperately need you darling i am slowly dying of love