massage of poetry

massage of poetry

The gentle scaffolding of her verses
Construct the sweetest inspirations
As goosebumps blossomed over me

Her words rubbed my hard muscles
Like an inspiring key that unlocked
Every hidden secret of my anatomy

Soft syllables stroked sweet sensations
Sending me to the point of no return
as her metaphors caressed me to ecstasy

My muse is a masseuse of touching balladry
For no man could ever resist her charms
After her sensual massage of poetry

our little secret

our little secret

My love
everyone wants to know
our little secret
can’t they see
you live in my poetry
For every beautiful word
every little inflection
is an alluring reflection
of you
For I never seek inspiration
in the birds or bees
or classic Greek tragedies
This poet writes
by inclination
Don’t tell anyone
of this little revelation
there’s no denying that it’s true
our little secret
My heart beats metaphors
just for you

my muse

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Grateful for all the warm messages and wishes.  Doing much better now.  Thank you.

Now, let’s get back to poetry………my muse deserves that.

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my muse

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My muse
is a prism
for when she writes
I see the other side of light
As I read her words
I become an unraveling knot
That slowly comes undone
If she knew
how she brightens my darkness 
with her inspiring poetry
my muse would understand 
she is a prism
illuminating a spectrum of love
deep inside of me

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if you let me

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if you let me

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If you let me
I will be the shining light
That peeks over your horizon
To start your day
I will be Michelangelo
When I paint your toe nails
So many pretty hues

If you let me
I will be your loving muse
A blank canvas that encourages
The brush strokes of your verses
While my fingers caress your hair
As I intoxicate myself
On the scent of your shampoo

If you let me
We will be drunk in love
While I conquer the demons
Of your lovers come and gone
As our dreams walk the same path
For as inevitable as my next breath
I will fall in love with you

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The Pharaoh’s Wife (100 word manuscript excerpt)

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The Pharaoh’s Wife

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“Can love last forever?”

“How dare you ask me after I’ve watched my Aziza die one hundred deaths?”

Painful memories clicked through Amani’s mind like old time flicker films of the silent era, each heartbreaking recollection reopening ancient wounds.

Angelo interrupted, “I didn’t mean to…”

“I’ve watched her die at the hands of barbarians, disease, slave owners, and the Black Death.”

“Please stop.”

“Time can heal the wounded heart, but it can hurt the waiting heart.”

Hands aching from all of the times he’s buried Aziza, Amani sighed.

“Can love last forever?  Eternity wouldn’t be enough time to love her.”

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Palace guard Amani is cursed to live forever when he is caught making love to the Pharaoh’s wife.  Millenniums later, he befriends Angelo, a cranky Vietnam veteran who searches for his long lost love.  Sharing the story of his five thousand year journey searching for his perpetually reincarnating twin flame, Amani the immortal, learns the true meaning of life from his dying friend.

Originally titled “The Pharaoh’s Wife,” my current manuscript (first draft) is the story of two men, an immortal and a dying man, sharing their tales of love and life.  I am considering “Eternity,” “Forever,” and “A Time For Us” as titles. Thus, it officially remains unnamed.

This manuscript, my notes. and outline, have been registered and are protected by the U.S. Copyright Office (within the Library of Congress). 

 

life is a carousel

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My three step plan on how I will live the rest of my life: LIVE, LOVE, LAUGH

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life is a carousel

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No use crying over spilled milk
Don’t worry over your reservations
In heaven or hell
Our time is too brief
Life is a carousel

Forget the lovers you lost
Or the pounds
That you suddenly found
It’s one ticket per customer
To ride this glorious merry go round

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My next post will be in two weeks on Friday (yes Friday) September 21st; my three year blogging anniversary.

On Monday I begin my next adventure.
Eight days of writing, beaching, and Cancun-ing,

My dear friends you will be missed.
My laptop will quietly weep for you.

Be well
Be happy
Be loved

 

 

 

 

 

The Sorcerer’s Wife (100 Word Love Story)

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This is a little throw back to my fiction roots.  A short story originally, written in 2016, I now converted it into 100 words.

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The Sorcerer’s Wife 

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Our writhing bodies glistened with perspiration when he stormed in.

Most betrayed husbands would savagely behead the passionate lovers. Not the evil Sorcerer, he denied me the most exquisite finale of all; death in her loving arms.

He tossed a mystic powder. A purple dust cloud transformed Isabella into a doe.

Next, the Sorcerer converted me into the most loathsome predator; the hyena.

Now, I watch her grazing in the ominous forest; moving with a familiar grace.

For years I coveted beautiful Isabella.

Oh, the bittersweet irony.

As foul spittle drips from my hungry fangs, I crave her even more.