valentina

valentina

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.

your absence

your absence

your absence
wanders the solitude of my room
through labyrinths of silence
like my heartbeat screaming
inside the darkest of catacombs
it is a symphony of memories
that echo with no finale
an unholy apparition
haunting without mercy
as I lay in a bed of dead roses
where the thorns of your absence
are forever piercing me

.

when the moon arrived without you

when the moon arrived without you

A metaphor slowly wilts
like a red rose dying
in the sad reflections of a tinted vase

faded petals of unrecited verses
expired in a gentle whisper
as cold winds blew

tonight, a melancholy poem
exhaled its final breathe
when the moon arrived without you

I wanted to thank everyone for their support. I am struggling with my vision and I hope to be back soon to read your blogs and reply to comments on mine,

A Lonely Update

A Lonely Update

Apologies for my lateness replying to comments and reading blogs.

My blurred vision takes a beating since I read so many blogs and write to you through comments and blogging replies. I love to doing this, it fills my heart with such joy, but sadly, it’s taking a heavy toll. Reading exacerbates my blurred vision.

In New York I overcame this problem by hailing a cab. Here in Florida, I drive, so I am very dependent on my vision.

Devoting so much time to reading everyone’s beautiful words is something that unfortunately, I won’t be able to do in such volume. And I am truly sorry for that.

While I will continue to read everyone, there is no way I can read every post of every blogger and I am truly sorry for that. There have been times reading 9 posts from one blogger delays my arrival to some of my friends and favorites.

Loyalty means so much to me. And I promise and assure my friends I will be loyal to everyone who has been loyal to me.

My Monday posts will always be dedicated to poetry. My Thursday posts, will be devoted to introducing other bloggers, some poetry, photography, my thoughts, and humor. These posts will usually be comments closed to help me better manage my blog and incoming comments.

This will be my only post this week. Hopefully, my poetry will not suffer from the rust.

I hope you find the time to stop by on Mondays to interact with me.

My warmest and sincerest appreciation.

Drew