Recently purchased two 100 foot extension cords. This poem and every poem scheduled to post in April, were written under a palm tree.
insomnia
my restless heart can’t sleep ever since she soaked my dreams like a warm summer shower of fireflies and fantasies cascading radiance onto my soul splashing away the darkness causing my moons to shine every sunrise to glow my life is one sleepy blur sleep or reality i don’t know just let me die of insomnia so i continue dreaming of her
There will be a short funny post on Wednesday. Feel free to drop by and celebrate my birthday with me. xo
Today, I am happy to annouce Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings, a wonderful book from my precious friend Gabriela of Short-Prose-Fiction has been published. Always rich in vivid images and powerful metaphors, her poetry and prose will leave you breathless.
Speaking of breathless, here is a little poem I wrote for the occasion…..
when i inhale your poetry
when i inhale your poetry i exhale melancholy syllables leaving the atmosphere breathless from your words the heavens slowly appear in your bedroom like a lonely apparition as i blow winter auroras through the autumn of your hair leading to our first kiss below the echo of a metaphor where we watch moon glow escape our trembling lips in a misty sigh of love
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
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 🎵🎶
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
This photo was taken by me during happier times. My ex Ally hugging her Godmother Maria Luna.
Maria was the first person to notice a very young Ally infatuated with the Americano from the beach. She was instrumental in bringing us together, and no one celebrated more at our wedding.
During her final years, she had lost her eyesight and alzheimer’s had stolen her memory. She rarely recognized her children.
But whenever I kissed her palm, she immediately perked up. “Andresito.” She always said I was the only man who ever kissed her palm.
She taught me along with the infinite sacrifice, there was greatness in being a housewife.
Maria Luna was 97 years young when she passed earlier this morning.
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.
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.
last night I found the poem that you wrote sleeping on my pillow between a lullaby and a dream scribbled on yellowed music sheets with ink from my unopened fantasies your lyrics sang of passion a garden of eternity and jasmines rhymes of me and you watching our lonely silhouettes making love beneath the moon
