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

the poem that you wrote

the poem that you wrote

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

i feel pretty

i feel pretty

When you are primping for a night out or a date, do you ever sing a song? I always do. The exact same song everytime.

My buddy Titi was sitting in the hut when I stood before the mirror making sure the five o’clock shadow was just right. I started singing my song.

He stood up yelling, threatening to leave.

Weeks ago, my daughter did the same thing to me. “DAD, THAT’S NOT FUNNY”.

I will let you decide. Not much into musicals, but I always sing my favorite song from West Side Story.

“I feel pretty
Oh so pretty
I feel pretty
And witty
And gaaaaaay
And I pity any girl who isn’t me today.”

Thoughts anyone?

love on mute

love on mute

loneliness floated on tranquil seas
as the tides slowly returned
with lyrics meant for me
I told my heart to forget her
he laughed at me
the stars strummed guitar strings
the moon hummed the love song
in my heart
I dared not sing

A song of unrequited love from the beautiful Taylor Swift
🎵🎶 Drew looks at me….. 🎵🎶


the faith i bleed

Time to change the subject. Let’s talk about happy things. Let me live, love, and laugh with you. That is the healing power I need.

the faith i bleed

along the path of oblivion
where fallen angels dare not cross
I was drenched in loneliness
thirsting for her love
suffocating in darkness
I inhaled her words
her poetry became my gospel
unkissed lips my sin
she is my religion
a temple of metaphors
the reason I breathe
she is the great resuscitator
restoring the faith I bleed

convalescing

convalescing

I must confess, I never dated a stewardess. I will add it to my To Do list. Right underneath date a girl named Coco. (Never did that either.)

My doctor agreed to let me extend my weekend vacation to six weeks.

Back at the hut, I have a housekeeper and two alternating cooks, dozens of friends who will check in on me. And a beach a walk away. Thus, I have the support group, fresh air, and sun that I need.

My best friend Titi, has started the process of finding a nurse who will make weekly visits. He assured me she would be young, pretty, and single.

While they were here, my daughter Cat and my ex Ally enjoyed using my debit cards (with my permission) as I rested, purchasing clothing online for my future vacations. Thankfully, they know my choice and tastes in designers and stores. The clothes were shipped last week.

Thus, I am traveling with a boarding pass, passport, and my laptop.

This resting and building my strength trip will be all about the three B’s.

1- Baptism

2- Beach

3- Books. Continue working on my current novel of eternal love and reincarnation and prep my sci-fi love story Paradox (written in boths forms novel & screenplay) for marketing to literary agents and Hollywood.

Will also do my best to surround myself with women. Hey! Man does not live by beach alone. I think some wise man said that.

The Beach Boy promises poetry and open comments on Monday.