Lonely Author Recites Poetry
Something different today. I hope you can successfully view and enjoy. Please, excuse the audio.
Something different today. I hope you can successfully view and enjoy. Please, excuse the audio.
The inspiration for this little thing came from a recent Video Chat.
When we cry together
It feels as if
We have loved forever
If only you
Could feel my fingers
Your moist cheek
My pain won’t hurt so bad
Another fallen tear
My trembling screen
My Baby has been so swamped with work demands, she actually fell asleep while in video chat with me. She has barely written this week, so I wanted to pen something for her. To set the record straight, I REALLY mean every word. I do. I do.
Have you heard about the lonely Beach Boy
He’s a Casanova and the most horrible flirt
He has enjoyed a woman or two…….or three
Til he earned a reputation for chasing skirts
Now, he wants to change and don a bright halo
“No mas,” to the all of the ladies he wants to yell
It may be too late for him to apply for heaven
Beach Boy has earned reservations in……oh, well
Though he is still a charmer, he wears blinders
And with all the chasing and flirting he’s done
Oh, the terrible Beach Boy is still a lady’s man
But now, he only belongs to N, a special one
For my loving N.
Your words are the sweetest melodies
That echo inside my brain
Your love is a metaphor on a gondola
Flowing through my veins
Let me tell you a little secret. My beautiful Tangled Weeds is asleep right now, but she asks me to prepare breakfast for her everyday (meaning a sweet good morning message). I wanted to start her Sunday with this little surprise so she knows I was thinking and missing her.
Photo credit: You know the drill.
The deep stitches that mark my flesh
Are medals from battles worn with pride
The wounds that line her battered heart
Moisten her breath with tears she’s cried
Me, the lonely beach boy surviving broken love
She, an indigo child tangled, a hand without a glove
It was my role to be the valiant knight
To rescue her from the pain of broken dreams
Bravely fighting off the slings and arrows
I was rescued by the poet in tattered jeans
I normally don’t post on Fridays, but my Poetry Muffin needs to read my words. And her wish is my demand.
Photo credit: Nandita.
Introduction: The Beach Boy
What do you say about a man who is supposedly lonely and seriously lovely, but whom no one has ever seen or heard?
That he doesn’t exist beyond your imagination? Oh but he does! And I will tell you all about him today.
So, ladies and ladies (since he is such a ladies man), it is my absolute pleasure to introduce you to the real person behind the mysterious beach boy picture AKA The Lonely Author, as seen and heard exclusively day after day, every day, through my naked eyes and ears and experienced first hand by my loving heart and spongy mind.
Chapter 1: The Lonely Author Uncensored
Eyes: So let’s start with his EYE, shall we? He has dark eyes – very expressive and mischievous. If there is anyone I would describe as having laughing eyes, it would be him. He cannot see well with one eye (maybe too much of winking at women in the past caused the damage, who knows?) but that does nothing to take away his 20/20 vision of love and affection. Anyone who wishes to know more about how his eyes blink, his pupils dilate etc. may please read “My Brown-eyed Love”. Shit, sorry I got carried away. I swear I am not trying to promote my blog here. To hell with my blog. This is about him. Focus, Girl (chiding myself)!
Physique: He is tall, well-built, perfect to go with his macho image as the universal protector of all possible damsels in distress. Who hasn’t heard of his legendary “Soar, Baby, Soar” (rhetorical question, this!). I never really was a damsel in distress, just so you know. I was the damsel under duress when he and I first met three years ago. Now I am the brunette in killer heels but that’s a different story. Suffice to say, he has changed his stance to “Click, Baby, Click”
Ears: Nibbleable (urban dictionary yeah!). Need I say more? What? I pay attention to details. I’m not going into his nose, eyebrows, tongue and forehead, so chill! Oh wait, I remembered – I’ve extensively talked about his tongue in one of my poems, maybe two. Very metaphorically of course. I’m a poet, give me some credit.
Mouth, Lips, Teeth: His lips? Shapely, full and rose-tinted. He has never smoked in his life. Na-ah. His teeth are quite perfect and very white. He brushes twice a day, such a good boy! He was approached by Colgate once to model for their diamond shine range but he turned down the offer because he was offended at the preposterous suggestion of smiling for money. Confused Colgate then asked him if he’d model for them for free, to which he got livid and made it clear that his smile was not cheap. The discussions ended up becoming a toothache for Colgate. Meanwhile, he changed his toothpaste brand to Pepsodent. He has a terrible sweet tooth though and I even know which particular tooth that is. Again, details, you guys! Ok I was bullshitting here but you got my point, yeah? But he does have nice sparkly teeth and a very warm smile. No kidding. He keeps Oreos in a mason jar and loves to chomp on those when we are video-talking. Watching him eat always makes me hungry. And that is what maketh our nights of Poetry, Pepsi and Popcorn.
Hair (on his head, I clarify): no parting, swept back, salt and pepper. Drool! He uses Loreal. Because he’s worth it! He usually keeps himself clean shaven (facial hair, what did you think?) unless of course he deliberately wants to sport the shabby rugged look, just to appear sexier than he already is (very Robert Downing Jr.-ish, you know).
Hands: soft like a baby’s. He prides himself on his hands. Don’t tell him I told you that. The day I feel his hands (and I will), there will be a sequel to this post, I promise. Well manicured nails.
Legs: strong, muscular, (he ran track in school and college) and hairy of course. What do you expect, he’s a man! And a Cuban at that.
Chest: slightly hairy and large. It houses a big heart after all……
Don’t expect me to describe his nipples. Jeez!
I better stop right here before I get carried away and start talking about other parts of his gorgeous body. So umm, let’s talk about his other umm stuff. His voice for one.
Chapter 2: The Lonely Author: Deciphered and Decoded
Voice: I have written poems about the way he talks. God, he can talk, this man! From a minimum of 1 hour everyday to 4000 clocks, depending on what day of the week it is, we talk about anything and everything. I basically enjoy watching his lips move and eyes shine as he tells me stories, events, anecdotes, dreams, hopes, beliefs, his grocery list and so on. He was not joking when he wrote in one of his poems that he is the man who never lets me sleep. Thank God for Fridays! But the record of our longest call is 11.5 hours which has culminated in this prose piece that you are reading. Anyway, enough of how much he dotes on me. Let’s talk about the technical aspects of his voice. He’s got a deep raspy voice which surprisingly reaches crazy alto summits when he is conversing with me. The joy and excitement gets the better of his baritone, I daresay. Oh and he uses a lot of umms and aahs and uh-uhs in his diction. And he does say ‘Nai-ce’ a lot. Also, “you know what”. The way he says somme-in is to die for. He always opens his conversations with me by saying “Hello Beautiful” and his sentences often begin with “Can I ask you a question”? Unless of course, the other person is someone other than me because he usually is the one with all the answers. But my personal favorite line/moment is when he whispers “I do. I do”. So I tend to ask him a lot of questions that are bound to be answered in “I Dos”. He laughs a LOT. Especially when I mimic him. Speaking of laughter, he is the only person I know who has this wonderful insane ability to laugh at himself. I make so much fun of him it is not funny and he revels in it which is just so adorable.
Mind: The most-underrated aspect of him. And to not talk about his brilliant mind would be an insult to his intelligence. He is a highly intelligent man, not just the regular smart kind. His mind is a treasure island of philosophies, knowledge, information, intellect, humour and wit. He has been a teacher, a banker, a human resources manager, and, believe it or not, a child actor/model and has worked with Hollywood biggies such as Pacino, DeNiro, Redford etc.
He is awesome in science and math, the two things that scare the living daylights out of me. The kindness in him doesn’t let him, but take my word for it, he speaks sarcasm better than he speaks Spanish which is his first language. We laugh a lot about it. He likes to keep himself abreast of all news and is on top of current affairs. He has a keen interest in history, although his major was Economics and is extremely good at finances. He dislikes discussing politics and avoids it like the plague. He is so good with dates it would impress you. He even reminds me about my dates/appointments etc. He also has this amazing presence of mind where he will talk to me like a scatterbrain jumping between topics but if I ask him some particular thing he told me five minutes back, he will be spot on. It baffles me, I tell you. A very meticulous and organized person except when it comes to his dresser (which looks like it’s been hit by a hurricane), he likes to plan ahead. That explains why he loves to play chess. The only mind game that interests him. His favorite quote: life is a game of chess, not checkers.
Charm: Do I need to even talk about it? Ladies, give me a cheer here please. He can keep 4 different people engaged in 8 different conversations at the same time and still make those people feel like they are the only ones he is talking to. If that is not serious talent, I don’t know what is. And wait, I’m not saying he bullshits you. He is just so naturally good at making people feel nice and importantly, he does it sincerely. The gift of the multitasking gab, you could say. Not everyone’s blessed with it, us lesser mortals have to live without it. Sigh!
Heart: with all the reputation of being the most incorrigible flirt the blogging world has ever seen, Andrew is in essence his mother’s son through and through with a heart that can only be second to Mother Teresa’s. He will paint rainbows in your heart with the rain in his eyes and won’t even let you know. Because believe it or not, he lives in constant perpetual pain. Literal. And he never lets it be known. He is extremely emotional and lets down his guards with me when he feels vulnerable. Yes, I have seen him cry, more than once. Not going with the macho image, no? I think he is man enough to break down and tell me when things gets too much and he wants to share his troubles with me.
Oh and the flirting has stopped, have you noticed? It’s been a while. He just doesn’t feel the need and the desire to flirt around anymore, he tells me. I believe him.
Chapter 3: Tangled Facts about The Lonely Author
• He is NOT a Casanova but he has better shades of Christian Gray than Gray himself
• He serenades me when I give him the cold shoulder (he does, he does)
• He hates having himself clicked but he makes sure to send me selfies for my breakfast
• He loathes talking on the phone but he detests it even more when it’s time for us to hang up
• He is a smooth talker but if you know how to say the right things, he will stutter more beautifully than Shakespeare in love
Epilogue: The Man who Loves
All said and done, I have been fortunate enough to get to know Andrew the way I do. And to be loved by him the way he does. Everyday has been a remarkable discovery about this man who is only assumed about. And it will not be a hyperbole if I say no one knows him the way I do – his deepest darkest secrets, his weirdest fantasies, his fears, his real life, his blogging world, just about everything. I hope you will all believe me when I say this post did not come about out of some arrogance or superficial reason, rather, it came about out of love for the man who knows how to love in all senses of the word, the man who has turned the Lady Pathos in me to Lady Bliss. It took us three years to be where we are. It will take us longer to be where we wish to be. Or maybe never. And it takes a lot to write about this when the world has not been kind to us. But you know what (in Andrew’s style), love doesn’t always need a name.
This was just a glimpse I have given you of the mystery man who goes by the name The Lonely Author. But I will not talk more than what I did because honestly, there are things he and I will never share with others. Some things are sacrosanct.
If there are any questions/comments about The Lonely Author or even about Andrew, I would be happy to answer for both of them. If not, I’ll still smile that I wrote this. He deserves it. Like I said, he is worth it. Thanks to the L’Oréal Shampoo that he uses which not only keeps his mane lustrous but fragrant as well. And that fragrance and shine percolates right down to your blogs when he stops by.
Thank you for your patience.
Living La Vida Loca
Signing off with love, until next time
Nandita aka A Tangle of Weeds.
Hola everyone. I am thrilled to post my second duet with my wonderful muse/mentor Nandita Yata of the beautiful blog A Tangle Of Weeds.
The man of my dreams wears Hilfiger in navy and white
He kills it with his James Bond look, suave, classy and bright
Hugo Boss lingers on his pulses so delicate and light
He smells like the tropics in trance, my olfactory delight
The woman of my dreams dresses in elegance and style
We enter the nouveau restaurant and every man’s beguiled
Heads continue turning as she is walking down the aisle
Everyone wants what I have, and that just makes me smile
When we go out, the man of my dreams opens doors for me
He leads me by the hand, he is the epitome of chivalry
He pulls the chair, seats me before making himself easy
Then says “how would you like to satisfy your palate, My Lady?”
At the table she discovers new silver earrings in her glass
For I will do everything I can to never let the Honeymoon pass
My beloved likes mischievous gentlemen with an accent of class
So I pull her chairs, hold her doors, and smack her in the ass
He beckons to the waiter who greets us with a beaming smile
“The finest Chardonnay you have, please bring it in a little while”
Are your feet hurting with the killer heels you have on, he asks
Oh but I only just put them in the car I say, he giggles and basks
I promise to massage her feet, and her favorite songs I will sing
Nandita is so easy to love, for my special lady I will do anything
As I sip my wine I notice I am with the most gorgeous in the room
We are the perfect pair, the blushing bride and the lucky groom
I say a quick silent prayer as Andrew locks his tender gaze into mine
Let eternity imprint itself upon our moments so beautifully divine
Even the stars are swooning in anticipation of the magic to unfold
As he serenades me, the moon blesses this story of our love untold
Violinists come to play their sweet strings cause it’s time for romance
She reciprocates batting her lovely lashes as our hearts sing and dance
The moon accompanies us on our walk home as the night ends in harmony
Cause I was born to love only her, and she was born to love only me
Hola People. No, I don’t post on Friday, but I had to make an exception today. I was challenged and inspired to do my first collaboration. So, here I am bursting at the seams. (Probably need to get out of that beach chair).
Lonely Author’s first collaboration with Nandita of A Tangle Of Weeds.