my guitar quietly weeps for you

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my guitar quietly weeps for you

.

Forever drying off
the guitar bridge
that never leads
me back to you
I find myself
playing wet strings
that serve as cruel reminders
of the faded connections
between me and you

Now that you are gone
my heart always beats off key
while the tears never stop
on this damp instrument
And since you no longer care
I write the saddest lyrics
for I’ll always love you in my songs
as my guitar quietly weeps for you

 

Silence Screamed Your Name

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Earlier today, I woke up searching for a good morning message from my Baby.  When I found none, I wrote her a few separate messages.  Hours passed with no reply. This little thing was born during those moments of worry.

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Silence Screamed Your Name

,

Today I awoke

when silence screamed your name.

Now, I lay here in fear

of never having you,

and distraught that

tomorrow

silence may

do the same.

.

Please, don’t do that to me again Baby.

.

Photo of beautiful young lady from Google Images.

The Lonely Author Blues

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The Lonely Author Blues

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Listen to my song
Although I have never been one to croon
Hear my sweet lyrics
Perhaps my whispers will make you swoon

I will sing of love
Unsatisfied desires as chronic as any pain
I will hum our hurt
Until you’re drenched in little hearts of rain

Soak in my rhythm
Our harmony of love will give us such a thrill
Live in my tempo
And together we will make time stand still

You have me dreaming
Of love making on a beach for me and you
You have me screaming
Can’t deny, I have the lonely author blues.

.

.

Photo from Google Images

The Woman Of My Dreams

The Woman Of My Dreams

The Woman Of My Dreams

.

The woman of my dreams
Is a puzzle to be solved
For she can slowly undress me
As she buttons up my shirt

When Baby gives the cold shoulder
She expects it to be kissed
Then she’ll push me onto her pedestal
To get cozy in my lap

The woman of my dreams
A delicate knot to be unraveled
She asks me to tie her to the bed
Yet it is I who becomes all tangled

Sweetie sets out my suit and tie
As I prepare for a fancy dinner
Then wears her sexiest lingerie
Cause she’s decided we’re eating in

Baby swears that I am so unique

Even as she perfectly mimics me
She is the woman of my dreams and I
The man who never lets her sleep.

.

Photo from Google Images.

then, it would be easy

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then, it would be easy

.

Have you ever wondered why our love must be so hard
Will cemented separation leave us forever scarred
If caresses could be felt through a computer screen
Or my loving bytes could nibble you sight unseen

then, it would be easy

We are twin flames who were always meant to be
Could we invent a way to burn through our tragedy
Or develop a machine so we travel through time
Journey to a sweet epoch where you’re forever mine

then, it would be easy

Should the Gods of Love feel our consuming pain
Of little piranhas love cells coursing in our veins
Will they demonstrate mercy and remove this strife
Perhaps promise us everlasting love in the afterlife

then, it would be easy

.

Very unlike me, but right now my heart can only write Pathos.

Shangri-La

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Another post was scheduled for today, however, this poem was created moments after a romantic Saturday evening, thus the last minute change. (Imagine dozens of little red hearts and one bottle of wine here).

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Shangri-La

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There is a street beyond hopes and dreams
where our passions will be the only theme
A beaten path that leads to your beating heart
paradise where love has no end once it starts

There is a glorious country with peaks no valley
Where currency will be the kisses we shall tally
We will reside in this utopia through the years
Write poetry as I explore your deepest frontiers

There is a universe beyond heaven and Earth
A dreamlike dimension of our glorious rebirth
A land where your love is the key to open doors
Shangri-La when my heart is synchronized with yours

.

.

Photo from Google Images.

Cleansed

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Somme-in a little different.

Cleansed

.

It was a lucid afternoon
Straight out of my dreams
We laughed and loved
Feasting on Pepsi, popcorn, and poetry

Drawing her a warm bath
I attempted to read Neruda
Yet she had other plans

Reciting pink verses
Red rhymes cascaded from her glossy lips
Like slippery suds of passion
Soaking me with love

Words floated like translucent bubbles
Washing my flaws, fears, and pain
Rinsing my body, purifying my heart
Baptizing my soul

My beloved took a bath
It was me that she cleansed.

.

This poem came from a prompt from my mentor Nandita Yata.  Hopefully, she will approve.