Garden Of Poetry

17670173451_dee37b8397_b

My poetry rarely contains much symbolism. However, my desire to improve as a poet urged me to pen this little write. (The symbolic meaning of every flower mentioned can be found at the end of the post). The inspiration for this piece comes from Nandita’s “The Root Of Life.”

Garden of Poetry

.

Strolling through her stunning verses
the aroma of rhymes entices my lungs
as poetic sunflowers generate warmth
and her love blooms in flowery tongues

Her windblown kisses of Baby’s Breath
Are love florets providing a sweet motif
As we exchange our primrose affections
For I am her stem and she my adoring leaf

She will eternally be my sacred lotus
Planted inside the deepest part of me
As I’ve become the photosynthetic sun
‘ever nourishing her garden of poetry

.

The image reminded me of you N. Eye liner, touch of lip gloss, and of course the flowers in the luxurious black hair.

.

Sunflowers (adoration, longevity)
Baby’s Breath (purity of heart)
Primrose (eternal love)
Sacred Lotus (In Buddhist symbolism it represents purity of body, speech, & spirit)

Another Fallen Tear

The inspiration for this little thing came from a recent Video Chat.

.

Another Fallen Tear

.

Sometimes
When we cry together
It feels as if
We have loved forever
If only you
Could feel my fingers
Caressing
Your moist cheek
Then perhaps
My pain won’t hurt so bad
When
Another fallen tear
Wets
My trembling screen

.

For Nandita

Corazón

Had to repost. WordPress had trashed this post.

Corazón is heart in Spanish. It is also used to address one’s beloved as “my heart” or the equivalent of our “sweetheart.”

Marisposa means butterfly. But it is the name of the Cuban national flower (pictured below).

Corazón

.

Earrings swaying like maracas
As the scent of Mariposas filled the air
My Corazón crooned so lovingly
A Caribbean breeze of lyrics
Blew through my yearning hairs

She ignited a bonfire of passion
With her Spanish lullaby
A hymn that came from up above
As angelic goose bumps danced on my skin
Sashaying to her tender love

My heart were her bongos
Intoxicating words drenched with nourishment
Are more vital than the air I breathe
Corazón whispered loving words to the world
As she serenaded me with her poetry.

.

Today’s post was inspired by Nandita’s live recitation of Pablo Neruda poetry in Spanish and English. (It was the first time I heard her sexy accent speaking Spanish). Should you wish to hear the poem here is the link.

nanditayata.wordpress.com/…/recitation-of-love-sonnet-no-17-pablo-neruda

.

The White Ginger (Hedychium coronarium) called “Mariposa” in Cuba, is a native flower of India but it has become so common in the island that it has been selected as the national flower.

ea33add935d15fe5adee9b9eea2c1c2f

The Flirting Beach Boy

the lonely author

My Baby has been so swamped with work demands, she actually fell asleep while in video chat with me.  She has barely written this week, so I wanted to pen something for her.  To set the record straight, I REALLY mean every word.  I do.  I do.

.

The Flirting Beach Boy

.

Have you heard about the lonely Beach Boy
He’s a Casanova and the most horrible flirt
He has enjoyed a woman or two…….or three
Til he earned a reputation for chasing skirts

Now, he wants to change and don a bright halo
“No mas,” to the all of the ladies he wants to yell
It may be too late for him to apply for heaven
Beach Boy has earned reservations in……oh, well

Though he is still a charmer, he wears blinders
And with all the chasing and flirting he’s done
Oh, the terrible Beach Boy is still a lady’s man
But now, he only belongs to N, a special one

.

For my loving N.

.

 

Your Love

Your Love

.

Your words are the sweetest melodies
That echo inside my brain

Your love is a metaphor on a gondola
Flowing through my veins

.

.

Let me tell you a little secret. My beautiful Tangled Weeds is asleep right now, but she asks me to prepare breakfast for her everyday (meaning a sweet good morning message). I wanted to start her Sunday with this little surprise so she knows I was thinking and missing her.

Photo credit: You know the drill.

Rescued

Rescued

.

The deep stitches that mark my flesh
Are medals from battles worn with pride
The wounds that line her battered heart
Moisten her breath with tears she’s cried

Me, the lonely beach boy surviving broken love
She, an indigo child tangled, a hand without a glove

It was my role to be the valiant knight
To rescue her from the pain of broken dreams
Bravely fighting off the slings and arrows
I was rescued by the poet in tattered jeans

I normally don’t post on Fridays, but my Poetry Muffin needs to read my words. And her wish is my demand.

Photo credit: Nandita.

Jealousy

All of his life, ladies have voiced the same complaint to Lonely Author, “you never get jealous.” Well, I think it is a good time to set the record straight.

,

Jealousy

.

I am jealous of the space between us
Of the moonlight that kisses your cheek
I long to be the bra that supports you
The killer heels that adorn your feet

I envy the alarm clock that wakes you
I need to inspire your morning smile
TODAY, I am jealous of all the tomorrows
Where I kiss you and make you mine

.

lips unkissed

lips unkissed

.

Black sands of time rain upon me
Entombing me in a powdered cloud
Each grain marks the sad moments
Where we’re denied our love avowed

Another hour that I didn’t hold you
Sixty minutes I wish to never repeat
For if I could I’d renounce paradise
Just so I could die at your pretty feet

Another day passes without your love
And here I am longing to belong to you
As my cold calendar continues taunting
Asking me the date I only wish I knew

There is no romance in lonely sunsets
Nor in thinking of the beloved you miss
As I watch the sun slowly descending
Your trembling lips remain unkissed

.

The Lonely Author: Up, Close, and Personal

The Lonely Author: Up, Close, and Personal

Introduction: The Beach Boy
What do you say about a man who is supposedly lonely and seriously lovely, but whom no one has ever seen or heard?

the lonely author

That he doesn’t exist beyond your imagination? Oh but he does! And I will tell you all about him today.

So, ladies and ladies (since he is such a ladies man), it is my absolute pleasure to introduce you to the real person behind the mysterious beach boy picture AKA The Lonely Author, as seen and heard exclusively day after day, every day, through my naked eyes and ears and experienced first hand by my loving heart and spongy mind.

Chapter 1: The Lonely Author Uncensored
Eyes: So let’s start with his EYE, shall we? He has dark eyes – very expressive and mischievous. If there is anyone I would describe as having laughing eyes, it would be him. He cannot see well with one eye (maybe too much of winking at women in the past caused the damage, who knows?) but that does nothing to take away his 20/20 vision of love and affection. Anyone who wishes to know more about how his eyes blink, his pupils dilate etc. may please read “My Brown-eyed Love”. Shit, sorry I got carried away. I swear I am not trying to promote my blog here. To hell with my blog. This is about him. Focus, Girl (chiding myself)!

Physique: He is tall, well-built, perfect to go with his macho image as the universal protector of all possible damsels in distress. Who hasn’t heard of his legendary “Soar, Baby, Soar” (rhetorical question, this!). I never really was a damsel in distress, just so you know. I was the damsel under duress when he and I first met three years ago. Now I am the brunette in killer heels but that’s a different story. Suffice to say, he has changed his stance to “Click, Baby, Click”

Ears: Nibbleable (urban dictionary yeah!). Need I say more? What? I pay attention to details. I’m not going into his nose, eyebrows, tongue and forehead, so chill! Oh wait, I remembered – I’ve extensively talked about his tongue in one of my poems, maybe two. Very metaphorically of course. I’m a poet, give me some credit.

Mouth, Lips, Teeth: His lips? Shapely, full and rose-tinted. He has never smoked in his life. Na-ah. His teeth are quite perfect and very white. He brushes twice a day, such a good boy! He was approached by Colgate once to model for their diamond shine range but he turned down the offer because he was offended at the preposterous suggestion of smiling for money. Confused Colgate then asked him if he’d model for them for free, to which he got livid and made it clear that his smile was not cheap. The discussions ended up becoming a toothache for Colgate. Meanwhile, he changed his toothpaste brand to Pepsodent. He has a terrible sweet tooth though and I even know which particular tooth that is. Again, details, you guys! Ok I was bullshitting here but you got my point, yeah? But he does have nice sparkly teeth and a very warm smile. No kidding. He keeps Oreos in a mason jar and loves to chomp on those when we are video-talking. Watching him eat always makes me hungry. And that is what maketh our nights of Poetry, Pepsi and Popcorn.

Hair (on his head, I clarify): no parting, swept back, salt and pepper. Drool! He uses Loreal. Because he’s worth it! He usually keeps himself clean shaven (facial hair, what did you think?) unless of course he deliberately wants to sport the shabby rugged look, just to appear sexier than he already is (very Robert Downing Jr.-ish, you know).

Hands: soft like a baby’s. He prides himself on his hands. Don’t tell him I told you that. The day I feel his hands (and I will), there will be a sequel to this post, I promise. Well manicured nails.

Legs: strong, muscular, (he ran track in school and college) and hairy of course. What do you expect, he’s a man! And a Cuban at that.

Chest: slightly hairy and large. It houses a big heart after all……
Don’t expect me to describe his nipples. Jeez!

I better stop right here before I get carried away and start talking about other parts of his gorgeous body. So umm, let’s talk about his other umm stuff. His voice for one.

Chapter 2: The Lonely Author: Deciphered and Decoded
Voice: I have written poems about the way he talks. God, he can talk, this man! From a minimum of 1 hour everyday to 4000 clocks, depending on what day of the week it is, we talk about anything and everything. I basically enjoy watching his lips move and eyes shine as he tells me stories, events, anecdotes, dreams, hopes, beliefs, his grocery list and so on. He was not joking when he wrote in one of his poems that he is the man who never lets me sleep. Thank God for Fridays! But the record of our longest call is 11.5 hours which has culminated in this prose piece that you are reading. Anyway, enough of how much he dotes on me. Let’s talk about the technical aspects of his voice. He’s got a deep raspy voice which surprisingly reaches crazy alto summits when he is conversing with me. The joy and excitement gets the better of his baritone, I daresay. Oh and he uses a lot of umms and aahs and uh-uhs in his diction. And he does say ‘Nai-ce’ a lot. Also, “you know what”. The way he says somme-in is to die for. He always opens his conversations with me by saying “Hello Beautiful” and his sentences often begin with “Can I ask you a question”? Unless of course, the other person is someone other than me because he usually is the one with all the answers. But my personal favorite line/moment is when he whispers “I do. I do”. So I tend to ask him a lot of questions that are bound to be answered in “I Dos”. He laughs a LOT. Especially when I mimic him. Speaking of laughter, he is the only person I know who has this wonderful insane ability to laugh at himself. I make so much fun of him it is not funny and he revels in it which is just so adorable.

Mind: The most-underrated aspect of him. And to not talk about his brilliant mind would be an insult to his intelligence. He is a highly intelligent man, not just the regular smart kind. His mind is a treasure island of philosophies, knowledge, information, intellect, humour and wit. He has been a teacher, a banker, a human resources manager, and, believe it or not, a child actor/model and has worked with Hollywood biggies such as Pacino, DeNiro, Redford etc.
He is awesome in science and math, the two things that scare the living daylights out of me. The kindness in him doesn’t let him, but take my word for it, he speaks sarcasm better than he speaks Spanish which is his first language. We laugh a lot about it. He likes to keep himself abreast of all news and is on top of current affairs. He has a keen interest in history, although his major was Economics and is extremely good at finances. He dislikes discussing politics and avoids it like the plague. He is so good with dates it would impress you. He even reminds me about my dates/appointments etc. He also has this amazing presence of mind where he will talk to me like a scatterbrain jumping between topics but if I ask him some particular thing he told me five minutes back, he will be spot on. It baffles me, I tell you. A very meticulous and organized person except when it comes to his dresser (which looks like it’s been hit by a hurricane), he likes to plan ahead. That explains why he loves to play chess. The only mind game that interests him. His favorite quote: life is a game of chess, not checkers.

Charm: Do I need to even talk about it? Ladies, give me a cheer here please. He can keep 4 different people engaged in 8 different conversations at the same time and still make those people feel like they are the only ones he is talking to. If that is not serious talent, I don’t know what is. And wait, I’m not saying he bullshits you. He is just so naturally good at making people feel nice and importantly, he does it sincerely. The gift of the multitasking gab, you could say. Not everyone’s blessed with it, us lesser mortals have to live without it. Sigh!

Heart: with all the reputation of being the most incorrigible flirt the blogging world has ever seen, Andrew is in essence his mother’s son through and through with a heart that can only be second to Mother Teresa’s. He will paint rainbows in your heart with the rain in his eyes and won’t even let you know. Because believe it or not, he lives in constant perpetual pain. Literal. And he never lets it be known. He is extremely emotional and lets down his guards with me when he feels vulnerable. Yes, I have seen him cry, more than once. Not going with the macho image, no? I think he is man enough to break down and tell me when things gets too much and he wants to share his troubles with me.

Oh and the flirting has stopped, have you noticed? It’s been a while. He just doesn’t feel the need and the desire to flirt around anymore, he tells me. I believe him.

Chapter 3: Tangled Facts about The Lonely Author
• He is NOT a Casanova but he has better shades of Christian Gray than Gray himself
• He serenades me when I give him the cold shoulder (he does, he does)
• He hates having himself clicked but he makes sure to send me selfies for my breakfast
• He loathes talking on the phone but he detests it even more when it’s time for us to hang up
• He is a smooth talker but if you know how to say the right things, he will stutter more beautifully than Shakespeare in love

Epilogue: The Man who Loves
All said and done, I have been fortunate enough to get to know Andrew the way I do. And to be loved by him the way he does. Everyday has been a remarkable discovery about this man who is only assumed about. And it will not be a hyperbole if I say no one knows him the way I do – his deepest darkest secrets, his weirdest fantasies, his fears, his real life, his blogging world, just about everything. I hope you will all believe me when I say this post did not come about out of some arrogance or superficial reason, rather, it came about out of love for the man who knows how to love in all senses of the word, the man who has turned the Lady Pathos in me to Lady Bliss. It took us three years to be where we are. It will take us longer to be where we wish to be. Or maybe never. And it takes a lot to write about this when the world has not been kind to us. But you know what (in Andrew’s style), love doesn’t always need a name.

This was just a glimpse I have given you of the mystery man who goes by the name The Lonely Author. But I will not talk more than what I did because honestly, there are things he and I will never share with others. Some things are sacrosanct.

If there are any questions/comments about The Lonely Author or even about Andrew, I would be happy to answer for both of them. If not, I’ll still smile that I wrote this. He deserves it. Like I said, he is worth it. Thanks to the L’Oréal Shampoo that he uses which not only keeps his mane lustrous but fragrant as well. And that fragrance and shine percolates right down to your blogs when he stops by.

Thank you for your patience.

Living La Vida Loca

Signing off with love, until next time
Nandita aka A Tangle of Weeds.