anthology of you

anthology of you

today, I penned another entry
with hemorrhaged ink
that never dries
between the yellowed pages
of yesterdays I dreamt
tomorrows that never arrived
in my journal
i drank a kiss from your lips
made love to your soul
with the same words
that never grow old
now I sit here planning
another imaginary rendezvous
in my cherished diary
i pen words of beauty
in my anthology of you



the illumination of your affection
always surrounds me
as a formless, invisible spectrum
taking shape in my lungs
as I breathe in your atmosphere
it blinds me with the hope
that the light of your love
will be the final glimpse
my eyes admire
before darkness shrouds my life

I fell in love – Introducing Ravy

I fell in love – Introducing Ravy

Well, since I don’t have a girlfriend, I need to give someone my love, don’t I?

This past Sunday, was my three month anniversary here in Florida. That same day Ravy came into my life. She is a 2019 Toyota Rav4 XLE.

I usually hand wash and wax her on Fridays after my gym workout (what the heck I am already sweaty anyway, right?). But this week, I groomed her on her birthday. Even took the time to add some accesories (side door trims and door sill protectors).

Tonight, Ravy and I will have our first companion. Not what you think. (I should be so lucky). My daughter will be visiting for then next 12 days.

Have an inspiring day.

Must Love Shoes

A bold glimpse into me. Since I was courageous enough to post this, I will leave comments open. I could use a good laugh.

Must Love Shoes

In a recent conversation with my friend Shelley of Quaint Revival I confessed my love for women’s shoes. (No, I do not wear them). No, not a shoe kisser type either, I just adore women who have plenty of shoes (in all styles and colors). Women’s shoes and feet, totally drives me insane.

One of the reasons I chose this new apartment, it has a shoe closet.

My idea of the perfect evening?

Lights are turned low. We are sitting on the couch, sipping wine, listening to soft mood setting music. We talk about poetry, life, books, and my favorite subject – YOU. My hands gently caress and massage your feet which rest in my lap.

Coming from New York, I met women all the time, on the bus, trains, stores, and streets. I guess you know by now, shyness is not one of my traits. So, I don’t use any of those internet meet sites.

But if I ever was to place a personal ad….

Single guy in Orlando area. Loves walks on the beach, shopping, coffee, sunsets, writing, and great conversation. Enjoys an occasional sangria, wine, or mojito. Other than blogging, not into social media. You: Should share my love for writing and poetry. Prefer if you were smarter than me. Don’t worry, this is a no brainer. (bad joke). Love for trying new restaurants required. Good sense of humor necessary! Oh, and you MUST LOVE SHOES.



walking a quiet path
valentina found a wilted flower
admiring its faded beauty she wondered
if this flower has ever been loved
or did she bloom in gardens of neglect
have her petals ever kissed
the one who got away
valentina took her home
to spend her lonely nights
watering dead flowers
with tears of yesterday

To the Loneliest of Authors

Sharing this tender and flattering piece about The Lonely Author written by Ginger Snapz. I want to thank her for her sweet and complimentary words. I am grateful for her kind and generous appreciation.

Comments are closed. Please share your thoughts with on her blog.

Ginger Snapz Back

Beautiful words enchant the brain in every lovely way vocabulary can make.

Sweet melodies play along my tongue as I read aloud to myself in the quietest of midnight hours, the poems you breathe in digital ink.

The one who writes of love so intelligently, inquisitivly, longing in such a high altitude it’s grasping me.

Could I ever be as much as he in making others feel so deeply with the words I echo in my own ink.

How different could he be from me, as we are but two poets in a sea of similar selves, lost in heated heartfelt daydreams of love everlasting.

Even so, I find myself at the end of every sonnet you sing in a state of pause, in a pondering, and think, “Who is this Lonely Author who’s writing captivates me…”

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The Experiment (75 words)

The Experiment

Jackson volunteered for the dangerous experiment.

Scientists advised him of everything that could go wrong.
Who knew everything would go right?

Total recall; they said it was impossible.

Memories coursed through him like blood through his veins. Every heartbreak, toddler fall, prenatal sensation. Trapped in a state of eternal nostalgia.

They said he would recall every memory.

No one knew he would relive every pain.

Jackson finally understood some things are meant to be forgotten.