who am i

Be gentle people, it has been two months since I attempted to write poetry. There is plenty of rust.

who am i

who are you
her reflection sighs
fogging the mirror
before I can steal a kiss

who am I
the mist dissipates
revealing a garden forgotten
a mirror image of me
two flowers of dark love
sowed in solitude

I soil my face with jasmines
her scent whispers to me
you are my soul
I am the air that you breathe

introspection

introspection

Why does a man choose to walk a path alone, when he has so many friends willing to walk alongside him?

It would be easy for me to say, after my parents passed, I found myself alone in the world. With no siblings, aunts, uncles, or cousins, life forced me into this life of seclusion. But I know this isn’t true.

Yet, every time I find myself in desperate need of companionship and support, I find myself retreating into the comfort of my lonely shell.

To all my friends who have been reaching out to me, I am so sorry for the delay in my responses. It is not a rejection. It is an automatic defense mechanism, probably an unhealthy one, that gets me through these tough moments in life.

It is something I need to conquer if I ever expect to share my life with someone. After all, love is about sharing the smiles, sunsets, as well as the pain.

Drew

❤️

10,000 followers

10,000 followers

Hello. I never mention these milestones, but this time I felt I should.

First, I would like to thank the three men that are following me. Never would have achieved this without you. ONLY KIDDING.

I find this achievement remarkable because after two weeks of blogging, I only had one follower Eye-Dancers. By the end of my first full month, I picked up a second follower Carrie Rubin. Thanks to them for their early encouragement.

I have been lucky to make amazing friends who have been with me since the beginning of this incredible journey. Sweet and supportive Aruna @ Roseyevening, a special writer and funny friend John at FictionFavorites, the only blogger I refer to as my sister Diane at LadiesWhoLunchReviews , and a very special gentleman across the pond Derrick at DerrickJKnight.

This post wouldn’t be possible without the generous support of friends who reblogged my work and introduced me to so many wonderful people. John at ByTheMightyMumford, Chuck at TheReluctantPoet, John at JohnCoyote, Jack at HaveWeHadHelp, and Ian at AceNewsServices. They have all played a great part in my success.

When I started blogging, this corner was dedicated to novel and screen writing and humor. Then, I started reading poetry…..

Sadly, the poets that inspired me to start writing poetry are gone and only one remains. Let me tell you, she inspires me today just as she did four and a half years ago. Her work remains fresh, brilliant, and inspiring. Please stop by and visit Holly at HouseofHeart. She may kill me for this, but Holly is the only blogger who ever inspired me to write about her hair TheBeautifulRedhead.

I would like to thank you for your support, friendship, and the laughs. It has been an unforgettable journey. Hopefully, you will stay with me as I continue my trek to publication, dare I say, and find love along the way.

The Lonely Author

❤️

Good To Be Back

Good To Be Back

Hola Everybody.

First, my apologies for a few drafts that posted the other day and any confusion they may have caused.

Feeling good, strong, and flirty.

WHAT HAS KEPT ME AWAY? There are issues with my heart that still need to be resolved. My primary doctor and cardiologist disagree with the next steps. Going for a third opinion (but open heart surgery appears to be on the horizon).

Let’s leave that conversation for another day.

In the meanwhile, I will be coming back slowly. Most of my posts will be comments closed as I catch up with messages and touch base with all of you through your posts.

Thank you for all of your warm messages and support.

Oh, and poetry…….don’t feel anything in my bones. Hopefully, it will come back reading your posts.

❤️

Bond, Drew Bond

Bond, Drew Bond

Not to worry.

Doctor and NURSES told me I have to complete the mission first.

The espionage stuff and pillow talk has to wait……

Doing well. Tired, sore, relieved. Resting.

Doc is happy.

Grateful for your beautiful concern and messages.

Thank you.

if tomorrow never comes

Tuesday is the big day. Hey, I lived my life pedal to the metal and not once considered hitting the breaks, so why stop now?

I prefer to go out doing what i do best…………….❤️❤️❤️

if tomorrow never comes

tonight would be sweeter
drinking poetry from your lips
perhaps, i can make it endless
tracing little hearts
on the shadows of your abdomen
turning seconds into hours
as i cherish you the way women
were meant to be adored
and if we can’t stop the hands
let me get lost
in flesh of your metaphors
in the textures of your love
as tonight becomes our forever
if tomorrow never comes

I would like to thank my friends for your amazing support. These last six months have been a challenge, but you helped me get here.

Comments are open. Replies will eventually happen and they will be brief to not tax my energy. I will read them like get well cards during my recovery.

To my Muse: Not sure how long I will be gone, but I will miss you terribly. ❤️

 In the meantime…………

Can You Feel The Love Tonight

Can You Feel The Love Tonight

Plowing through messages, emails, texts, as I receive tons of phone calls. I have prepped myself and fridge for my recovery after Tuesday’s procedure. Sorry if I am late getting to your blog posts and replies.

____________

Behind every great man…..blah, blah, blah.

Never liked that quote. If he is a great man, he would have his woman beside him and sometimes leading the way.

That has been my personal experience.

During the past 6 months of uncertainty, there were lonely nights. Days of feeling unloved. Nights where I swore to never write another line of poetry. Moments in the darkness asking God to have mercy and let me breathe my final breath.

Every one of these moments was met with a message from an amazing lady of WordPress expressing their caring thoughts. Little did these women know, they rejuvenated my heart, breathed oxygen into my lungs, and literally lifted me up by my collar.

They kept me going, even when I was trapped on the island in desperate need of this heart procedure. (By the way, the island extended the state of emergency another 25 days, I would have been trapped until late June).

Some of these wonderful ladies prefer to remain unnamed, so I will refrain from thanking them here. This song is dedicated to these women who REFUSED to let me quit. I am a better man because of them.

Tonight, I feel so blessed. During this sad period of pandemic, when the world was shutting its doors, the special ladies opened their hearts.

For my newer followers wondering about my choice of image for this post, ask my long time followers; they will explain.

Paradox

After my recovery, I will continue working on my current manuscript, while I seek representation for my sci-fi thiller Paradox.

It is the two year anniversary of his wife’s disappearance. Standing on a rooftop, beneath the night sky, Detective Jake Cross preferred to die than to live without Lisa.

Here is the opening paragraph.

Paradox

Tonight, the moon arrived without her.
No other phenomenon on Earth or in the heavens could provoke a fusion of so many emotions; passion, remorse, uncertainty, all boiling in a primordial soup of sentiments that scorched his soul. This unwelcomed nightly event consumed detective Jake Cross like a voracious black hole gnawing at his heart, cell by helpless cell, devouring every reason he had for living.

Paradox – Mankind’s last hope is a man who lost his faith.

a vagabond in love

Everyone has ocean’s to fly, if they have the heart to do it. Is it reckless? Maybe. But what do dreams know of boundaries?” – Amelia Earhart, aviation pioneer, author, the first female aviator to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean. 

a vagabond in love

i am a dreamer
a lonely beachcomber
wearing poetry on my sleeve
longing to accompany the morning sun
through the windows
of your most intimate dreams
aching to explore the lines of your palm
roam the curves of your ripped jeans
and should our paths never meet
i will always be
a vagabond in love
remembering your soul
wandering every cherished memory