a cappella

For my muse……

a cappella

words come in waves
a chorus splashing in harmony
drenching my dancing heart
as my muse croons
her siren melody
a hypnotic verse reminiscent
of the haunting a cappella
sung by a lonely sea
urging me to fall overboard
into the depth of her words
submerged in metaphors
drowning in poetry

a sunset and a mojito

a sunset and a mojito

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When does loneliness most affect me?

No, not when you think. I would have to say when I sit down to eat. I always imagine the dinner time conversations when families or couples dine. I bet most people take these moments for granted. I don’t.

Drinking my mojito, I watched a sunset.

Started writing a poem on a napkin. (Yes, we may have to change the blog name to The Lonely Napkin Author).

I wrote something for my muse. It will post this coming Monday. Hopefully, she will like it.

This was my dinnertime view last night, all that was missing was YOU.

One Last Adventure

Seriously, did you really think the Beach Boy didn’t have one last adventure in him? Today, I am flying to the Dominican Republic for a three month writing retreat/vacation.

Question: Who wrote the following? A tramp, a gentleman, a poet, a dreamer, a lonely fellow, always hopeful of romance and adventure.

The first week, I will be staying at exclusive 7,000 acre resort Casa de Campo. It is a great golfing resort. President Bill Clinton just stayed there in July. The resort’s theatre was opened with an exclusive concert by with performers Frank Sinatra , Buddy Rich, Heart. and Santana (Aug 20, 1982).

On my last vacation I chased whales. The itinerary for this trip begins with the exploration of the 100,000 year old Las Maravillas Caves, where long before Chistopher Columbus arrived, the Taino Indians left pictographs on the walls.

Altos de Chavón is a replica 16th century Mediterrean village which serves as a cultural center for students, tourists, and artists from around the world. St. Stanislaus church is a stone building in the center of the village. Consecrated in 1979, Pope John Paul II sent the ashes of Poland’s patron saint, St. Stanislaus, and a hand-carved statue from Krakow to commemorate the church’s inauguration.

Of course, I will be spending time with my goddaughter Dibel (a.k.a. Lily) and so many friends.

I will stick to my regular blogging schedule Monday and Thursday (comment closed)

Answer: Charlie Chaplin wrote these words in his diary.

A tramp, a gentleman, a poet, a dreamer, a lonely fellow, always hopeful of romance and adventure.

Sounds like anyone you know?

Secret Admirer

Secret Admirer

Sitting at a bar, thoughts of muses, poetry. and loneliness floated alongside the ice cubes in my mojito.

I scribbled an occasional sentence or verse on a napkin because they were napkin worthy, unlike most of my other thoughts which are written on….

A waitress asked what I was doing.

“Writing poetry on a napkin.”

Time passed, my melancholy mood in this crowded bar, did not.

The waitress returned with a carnation. Pointing at an empty booth, she advised me a beautiful blonde was watching me as I drank and wrote. She was the curious person who wanted to know what I was writing.

Just before she left, my secret admirer asked the waitress to deliver the flower with a message.

“Mr. Poet, let this inspire you until the next time we meet for the first time.”

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This photo is the carnation resting on the footboard of my bed.

anthology of you

anthology of you

today, I penned another entry
with hemorrhaged ink
that never dries
between the yellowed pages
of yesterdays I dreamt
tomorrows that never arrived
in my journal
i drank a kiss from your lips
made love to your soul
with the same words
that never grow old
now I sit here planning
another imaginary rendezvous
in my cherished diary
i pen words of beauty
in my anthology of you