i will love you

i will love you

i will love you
in the silence of your reflection
in the echoes of your pain
with the calm of the mountains
with a passion bordering
sound mind and insane
for I have fallen like a sunset
who blushes as he nears the horizon
with feelings he can’t convey
and should you never be mine
i will remind you of the promise
of tomorrow’s dawn
as i love you
anyway

the dreams I had

the dreams i had

you are the twilight in my eyes
that never blossomed into dawn
the empty nights sans moonlight
imagining the phases of your soul
renouncing the affections of women
to appease this unrequited heart
and all the love it has to give
for you my beloved
I cling to illusions
embracing all the dreams i had
yet never lived

.

.

A song that very much inspires mi. Sabor A Mi (Taste of Me).

I don’t know if eternity has love
But there, just like here
In your mouth you will carry
A taste of me 🎵🎶

doors upon the sea

Poetry under the palm trees continue….

doors upon the sea

who am i to tell the roses
not to bloom
how do I stop the hands of time
or silence a lonely wolf
howling at the moon
how can i not think of you
it’s like asking my heart
to remember not to bleed
or a pianist who lost his hands
to forget his keys
my beautiful muse
tell me I can lock these thoughts out
convince me
I can put doors upon the sea

.

.

Am I wrong to love my muse?

a voice came to me

During a depressing night where my headaches and dizzy spells drained any hope I had, I reached for my phone and discovered an email with a voice recording.

There were delightful pauses in this one sided conversation, but everything about the message, her soft voice, her pauses, her sweetness revitalized me.

Sadly, this little poem does not do justice. I dedicate this to that voice to die for. Thank you. 🌹

a voice came to me

loneliness thundered
when a soft voice came to me
landing on my five o’clock shadow
like a lightning bug
determined to tickle my cheek
while her little healing light
outshined my torment
stifling the echoes inside my heart
as her deafening silence spoke to me
her voice shined like the stars
illuminating my night
resembling a constellation of fireflies
absorbing the darkness
in my universe of misery

at the edge of an eclipse

at the edge of an eclipse

a slow dance
our cheeks melting
my melancholy clinging to your soul
i shut off the moon
so we dance at the edge of an eclipse
as my loneliness gyrates
in the darkness
pressing gently against your hips
I inhale your womanhood
it inspires me to kiss
a poem onto your neck
the one I could never think of
the one confessing
I desperately need you
darling
i am slowly dying of love

My Thank You Tribute to Resa

My Thank You Tribute To Resa

Not so long ago, my dizzy spells and skull pounding headaches returned, breaking my spirit. Like an angel in the night (or out of an alley) Resa delivered a post dedicated to me. This beautiful gesture returned light and hope to my little hut.

Laguna Gri Gri is one of the Dominican Republic’s major bird sanctuaries, set along a peaceful lagoon flanked by thick mangroves. When I took these photos, my intention was to contribute a series of murals to Resa’ inspiring blog. Sadly, my health and the lockdown due to the virus extinguished my plans.

I will do my best to do this in Resa’s unique, artistic tour guide style.

This serious faced native who Lonely Author decided to name The Serious Faced Native is the first face we see as we enter the santuary. I believe the artist wanted to convey the need to respect nature (depicted in the feather and butterfly).

The black web behind her, I see it as a dream catcher. For me, this represents Resa. She spends her days capturing the dreams of artist’s and murals. Sharing these works of art with the world with the serious determination of The Serious Faced Native.

I named this painting Flor Bonita (Beautiful Flower). Wearing a flower in her hair Flor watches the flight of beautiful birds and the growing psychedelic flower before her. Like Resa, Flor admires the beauty of self expresson and creativity.

By her expression (mouth open in awe) Flor is dazzled by this beauty. Look at the shadows on Flor. She is facing the sun. For me this represents the warmth and brilliance of my beautiful friend Resa. Her caring heart (which she has colored purple just for me) and soul is a light that needs to be treasured in this time of darkness we are living in.

Half Face Moon is the mystery behind the amazing artist known as Resa. Drawn by an artist named Patricia, Half Face Moon displays some of her talent and beauty, but like Resa, there is so much gorgeousness hidden below the surface, sort of like the other side of the moon. Resa and Half Face Moon are the promise of the other side of creativity and love.

Then, we move on to Belly Button Door Knob Man. Now, I would have to do heavy drugs to associate this frog man with Resa. I can only think the door knob in his belly button is a representation of Resa opening the doors to creativity, welcoming it with her wonderful open arms. (Ha, I tried).

I end this with this stunning mural of a sunset as seen from the shores of the Dominican Republic. In the distance a ship appears. It looks like Columbus has discovered the New World.

Perhaps, he discovered a world of beauty, and creativity, and love. No doubt he has discovered Resa and Graffiti Lux Arts.

Resa thank you for your caring and support. Like an Angel of Art and Creativity, you came to me at a time I most needed it. My heart thanks you.

❤️❤️❤️

love in the time of coronavirus

love in the time of coronavirus

This occurred nine days ago, before my current state of dizziness began.

Knowing a pandemic was sweeping across the world, I expected to find the tourist beach desolate. I wasn’t disappointed.

Before long, I discovered an open beach bar with one sole patron. A beautiful young woman with green eyes that silently spoke to me.

We were both affected by the magic of our eye contact.

My “hola” was followed by her “bonjour.”

My heart sank. UGH! For three years Cynthia from the debate class did my French homework in high school.

Oh, karma had a sadistic way of coming back to bite you right in the croissants. Where was Cynthia now?

Lucie spoke little English, but her accent…..oh it was heavenly. The Beach Boy has a weakness for sexy accents (and hosiery)! Hey, Superman has his kryponite, I have mine.

She had small dainty feet, well manicured, toe nails painted a soft shade of coral, with a sexy sea shell ankle bracelet. I was melting.

We communicated by pointing, through sign language, Google tranlsate on my phone, and glowing smiles. I was in full James Bond mode.

Magic had returned to my life.

I prepared for the right moment to impress her with the only French I remembered, “Le chat est sur la table.” (“The cat is on the table”). Damn my luck, it was a cat-less beach.

Pinkies entwined, we walked the beach. Played frisbee. I explored her soft hands.

Venturing into the water, the rough waves knocked us around, giving her a reason to hold my arms and chest. It allowed me to cling to her bare waist. We shared tender little kisses on the cheek and lips.

Then, came one long lasting kiss, which I felt in my soul. We were alone in the world and the world was ours.

Taking my hand, she led me back to her blanket. Pulling out her cell phone, she swiped through dozens of photos, showing me her man and their wedding pics.

Lucie was married. Apparently, he was in some business meeting.

Looking into my eyes, she pouted before giving me one last kiss. Watching her walk out of my life, my broken heart filled with hope.

Why shouldn’t it?

While a deadly pandemic forced a world to shut its doors in fear, I opened my heart and found love in the time of coronavirus.

in your arms

in your arms

the sun has fallen
the moon refuses to rise
loneliness sits beside me
wearing a pink carnation
mourning the death of my pride
fear shaves in my mirror
he only has one eye
thus, he fails to see
the shooting stars in the window
no wait, they are the headlights
of cars passing by
so, I can’t make a wish
but if I could…..
I’d wish to die in your arms
just to hear you whisper goodbye

Lonely Author: curfews, coffee, and an update

Lonely Author: curfews, coffee, and an update

During the first three weeks of my vacation, I was feeling well, getting stronger everyday. My heart procedure was set for Tuesday, April 14th.

Then, last Monday hit me like a storm. The hours of feeling dizzy, the sensation of my brain throbbing inside my skull, the additional blurred vision, and naseau had all returned.

For five days last week I dealt with this setback.

My blood pressure which during the holidays was reaching for the sky, now reached new lows. My nurse Elena described some of my readings as dangerously low.

On an island isolated from the coronavirus fears infecting the rest of the world, panic broke out after the President’s press conference. Business quickly shut down. Parts of the island are under curfew. A military presence can be felt.

With my sudden change in health, we called Jetblue to return to the United States, but the airports have been locked down. I found myself trapped.

Via speaker phone, my doctor suggested I change the dosage of one of my pills. I started taking a half pill (yesterday). This morning I am feeling a little better. The dizziness almost totally went away. There are still occasional spells.

On Friday to confront my super low blood pressure, Elena drove me into town to sit down and drink a cappuccino. After four months of no coffee it was heavenly.

Airports are scheduled to reopen Saturday, April 4th, the same day of my return flight.

Blogging? I will take this day to day.

Tomorrow, Monday, MAY BE my last post for a few months. I hope everyone drops by to read about something that happened to me last Saturday before my dizzy spells returned.

love in the time of coronavirus.

Has the Beach Boy finally found the one?

blushing moon

During a recent conversation, my friend Gabriela asked me to write a poem titled “blushing moon.” Please visit the winner of the Author of the Year (2019) At Spillwords NYC. You will find her inspiring poetry at Short Prose.

Now, here is my response to her prompt.

blushing moon

eyes moist with nostalgia
i mourn the unspoken words
that occupy so much space
between me and you
it leads me to ask
does a shooting star ever yearn
for the places he has never been
the way I long for you
perhaps, if our lips wandered
the lines of your palm
it will lead them to our destiny
a place for us
beneath the blushing moon