teardrops

teardrops

her words are teardrops
preserved in my eyes
like liquid diamonds
of inspiration
cascading in my heart
seeping bone deep

should you find any beauty
in the verses I spill
it is her reflection
always swimming
in the poetry I weep

exotic fruit

exotic fruit

fluttering island skirts
flash silky thighs
feeling an urge for sin
I feel the rhythm
before the music begins
palm leaves sway
along with enticing hips
mango and passion fruit
linger on inviting lips

some cravings
are as irresistible
as the pull of the evening tides
my desires ebb and flow
memories fall
fantasies rise

a dreamer or a fool
surrounded by exotic fruit
longing for a taste of
only you

Photo taken by me.

in the whispers of palm trees




in the whispers of palm trees

my mind wanders aimlessly
like algae on the sea
beneath my rolled-up khakis
warm waves crash upon my feet
reminding me of…..sigh

a gentle caress
trembles my skin
underneath my white shirt
I turn to reach for her
my hands grasp an island breeze
paradise is lost
she is the treasure I never had

sand seeps from longing fists
I call her name
as her silent giggles echo
in the whispers of palm trees

Photo taken by me.

masterpiece of poetry



If you love beautiful artwork, please visit my friend Resa’s blog. She posts outstanding murals from the brightest upcoming artists in the Toronto area. Don’t miss it. It is full of so many masterpieces.

https://graffitiluxandmurals.com/

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masterpiece of poetry

Criss cross brush strokes
intersect the depths of my soul
with brilliant colors
she extracts from a rainbow of love

Brushing my abstract heart
with colorful metaphors
from her palette
she turns me into art nouveau

She was my muse
or has the muse become me
for I am the quivering canvas
where she creates
her masterpiece of poetry

cemetery of lovers past

cemetery of lovers past

A shadow exhales
Her breath of life
is a white mist
that lingers like cumulus clouds
on a windless day
a bell tolls
over a broken carcass
of rigor mortis memories

words begin to rain
a cleansing rebirth
born of poetry
the past is buried
the dead long forgotten
a curse lifted
like a holy veil
letting in the light

a heart gasps
a new moon glows
an angel departs
she forever remains a mystery

the coming of a muse

A tribute to my muse (and muses everywhere).

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the coming of a muse

A woman in red
reveals powerful emotions
performing her tango
depicting a poet’s words
A matador’s blade
carved inspiring verses
of sharp metaphors
possessing the power of a bull
While a thousand church bells
rang in poetic harmony
as red carnations
stood in full bloom
proclaiming his heart aches for you

Cristo Redentor awaits with open arms
So does he

There was no need of red carpets
or trumpets sounding
when the universe conspired
when Pythia foretold
the coming of a muse

the beauty of a woman (For All Ladies)

the beauty of a woman

Woman
an enchanting paradox
for some
an alluring mosaic
to my eyes
A masterpiece
of artistry and love
She is a portrait
of her laughter
and long forgotten tears
A collection of stunning
jigsaw pieces
of heartbreak and memories
collected through the years
She is a labyrinth of emotions
a sweet sum of all her parts
To truly appreciate
the beauty of a woman
you must discover
the little girl
for she will forever be
a priceless work of art

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