Inspiring Women of WordPress: beautifully broken you

I will try to revitalize my series of Inspiring Women of WordPress with a monthly post.

“There is no perfection, only beautiful versions of brokenness.” – Sharon L Adler, inspirational author of 300 Questions To Ask Your Parents Before It’s Too Late.

Life has an amazing way of touching us. During these months of illness and recovery, my precious friend Rachel of In Mind and Out, has reached out to me in my loneliest moments, lifting my spirits. We often joke about being “broken.” This wonderful poet and caring woman fails to see the beauty of her imperfections as her brokenness helped repair mine. Please, get to know Rachel, one of the Inspiring Women of WordPress.

beautifully broken you

fragments of a mirror
reflecting multiple moons in the night
making the parts
more beautiful than the whole
fractured sunsets
of healing warmth and light
in need of an ointment of poetry
to cure a jagged soul
shatterd moonlight and splintered sunsets
create a stunning view
reminding me of my darling kintsugi
beautifully broken you

Poetically translated to “golden joinery,” Kintsugi, or Kintsukuroi, is the centuries-old Japanese art of fixing broken pottery. Rather than rejoin ceramic pieces with a camouflaged adhesive, the Kintsugi technique employs a special tree sap lacquer dusted with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.

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

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

the venom of her poetry

Feeling stronger everyday. My Latin blood is starting to heat up…..

the venom of her poetry

sick in love
since she fed me
poetry from her breast
after a fever of words
i have fallen for her


beads of sweat
form on trembling flesh
delivered by the poison
of her verse


she caused my malady
yet she is the cure
my illness, my antidote
she infected me
with the venom of her poetry