my pillow waits for you

my pillow waits for you

forlorn shadows
hang like colorless tapestries
on barren walls
that reverberate no sound

a frame with no photo
rests on a dresser
resembling a weary wanderer
desperate for a smile

beyond my world
entwined lovers
mutate into carnal wolves
howling at the moon

a baby weeps
tears of forget me nots
in a world eclipsed
my pillow waits for you

masterpiece of poetry



If you love beautiful artwork, please visit my friend Resa’s blog. She posts outstanding murals from the brightest upcoming artists in the Toronto area. Don’t miss it. It is full of so many masterpieces.

https://graffitiluxandmurals.com/

.

masterpiece of poetry

Criss cross brush strokes
intersect the depths of my soul
with brilliant colors
she extracts from a rainbow of love

Brushing my abstract heart
with colorful metaphors
from her palette
she turns me into art nouveau

She was my muse
or has the muse become me
for I am the quivering canvas
where she creates
her masterpiece of poetry

cemetery of lovers past

cemetery of lovers past

A shadow exhales
Her breath of life
is a white mist
that lingers like cumulus clouds
on a windless day
a bell tolls
over a broken carcass
of rigor mortis memories

words begin to rain
a cleansing rebirth
born of poetry
the past is buried
the dead long forgotten
a curse lifted
like a holy veil
letting in the light

a heart gasps
a new moon glows
an angel departs
she forever remains a mystery

the coming of a muse

A tribute to my muse (and muses everywhere).

.

the coming of a muse

A woman in red
reveals powerful emotions
performing her tango
depicting a poet’s words
A matador’s blade
carved inspiring verses
of sharp metaphors
possessing the power of a bull
While a thousand church bells
rang in poetic harmony
as red carnations
stood in full bloom
proclaiming his heart aches for you

Cristo Redentor awaits with open arms
So does he

There was no need of red carpets
or trumpets sounding
when the universe conspired
when Pythia foretold
the coming of a muse

soliloquy

soliloquy

my baritone heart
sings on a lonely stage
before empty seats

longing to be a duet
he dreams
of your soprano heart
here alongside of me

without you
a crowded auditorium
appears barren
as the insistent echo
of my baritone heart
rings in hollow halls

he croons a ballad
a song meant for two
a song unrequited
a soliloquy
he composed
just for you


the beauty of a woman (For All Ladies)

the beauty of a woman

Woman
an enchanting paradox
for some
an alluring mosaic
to my eyes
A masterpiece
of artistry and love
She is a portrait
of her laughter
and long forgotten tears
A collection of stunning
jigsaw pieces
of heartbreak and memories
collected through the years
She is a labyrinth of emotions
a sweet sum of all her parts
To truly appreciate
the beauty of a woman
you must discover
the little girl
for she will forever be
a priceless work of art

.

moonless heart

20180729_010050

This was written back in September.

A friend gave me a ticket to a Latin Moonlight Cruise (basically a floating nightclub). The ambience and music; perfect. The ladies….oh so beautiful. A perfect night for romance. One little problem…….it was couples night.

This poem and photo were born on that night.

moonless heart

.

An abandoned yacht sits on a dock
Unsure if it will ever sail again
My moonless heart
Remains still
Like a sailboat without a breeze
He studies the sky
Without constellations
Finding a single star
That winks back
Advising him
A ship only looks forward
Reminding me
Of the girl I haven’t met
Where is she now
Does she admire the night sky
Is she loved
Or is her heart moonless too

.

Flying to Las Vegas this morning. (Don’t ask me why, I loathe gambling.) Lonely Author will find something to entertain him in Sin City.

I would tell you all about my little vacation when I get back, but what happens in Vegas……blah, blah, blah.