Thursday, June 30, 2016


the scent of that woodsy cologne
brings back memories of long gone days
of whirlwind nights and rendezvous
back then neither of us were looking
for love – just fun times - and they were
but sometimes on lonely nights,
I find myself reminiscing still

- Written for dVerse Poetics: Empire of Scents.  I wrote this piece also as a quadrille, or 44 word poem. 

Wednesday, June 29, 2016

"dead roses"

dead roses
littered dance floors
where they once lived free
from judgmental eyes
until one night
hate came inside
shattering dreams
never to see
light of day
we mourn lost stars
stolen from skies
yet life goes on –
it always does but
stained memories remain

- Written for dVerse Quadrille #12 where we had to write a 44 word poem including the word "rose".  Seventeen days ago the shooting at the Orlando nightclub Pulse happened.  I wrote a poem a few days later expressing the feeling of not being able to find the words after another horrific attack.  Yet somehow while sitting in the emergency room with a family member yesterday these words came to me so easily.  It's funny how sometimes a poem can come to you in the most strangest ways.

Monday, June 27, 2016

“no longer crave”

I used to crave
your touch
and your gaze
upon my face
I was a young,
dumb teen
who thought
she was in love
too many years
have now passed
the image of you
has faded away
in my mind
you have become
just a guy I pass
by on the street

Thursday, June 23, 2016

“summer love”

summer love
comes and goes
like the seasons
leaving behind
crisp white sheets
I soon won’t need
for winter’s snow
will come again

Photo by Gottberg.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

“rainy days”

On rainy days we stayed indoors to pass the afternoon hours.  We played with dolls at first – I had many.  In time we moved onto tea parties.  Mom made us finger sandwiches as we pretended to be sophisticated ladies.  We even tried playing my keyboard – though none of us were natural musicians.  But I was a storyteller and told extravagant stories guest starring rap stars or other celebrities in whatever situation popped in my head.  Not to mention I was also the manicurist and painted tiny fingernails.  In time we grew apart and spent our rainy days in other places.  Now we are adults living out our lives in different towns or opposite coasts.  Still I keep memories of those days in my heart.

rain drops tap windows
the clouds open up its eyes
shedding tears of joy

Monday, June 20, 2016

Second poem for today:


soft lips
brush against
my trembling mouth
questions in my head
fly out as I begin
to fall into your lush rhythm
falling head over heels again
I allow my tongue to get lost in time
and living fully in this pure moment

First poem for today:


I count the days I had
you in my arms
and all the charms you
placed on my heart
now you finally have me
in your web
you pull away instead
of drawing near
I now only feel coldness
that I thought was gone
and I begin to question
where things went wrong
perhaps for you it was all
just a charade
those loving words you
said, you never meant
cutting pieces out of me
leaving me bleeding
on a steel cold slab for
the vultures to feed
now I find myself doubting
every promise one makes

Monday, June 13, 2016

"no words"

so many have put their grief
into words after such tragedies
I have done the same before  
I remember that sad night in Paris
yet like clockwork other tragedies
come into the spotlight and  
I find myself with no more
poetic words to spill

“Taking the leap”

I decided to take the adventurous route
and spill out my heart to you
I hope I do not scare you away
instead I pray you will feel the same
or I will have to move on with my life
singing these sad blues

 - Written for dVerse Quarille 11: still

Thursday, June 9, 2016

“where do broken hearts go?”

where do broken hearts go to die?
to the sky

who collects fallen tears in jars?
twinkling stars

who will rescue me from the night
the dawn’s light

now I know things will be alright
all my lost dreams made whole once more
and my heart won’t cry anymore
to the sky, twinkling stars – the dawn’s light

- Written for dVerse Open Link Night #174.  The poem is written as an ovillejo poem, which is a Spanish form of poetry. popularized by Spanish Poet Miguel de Cervantes.  You can read more about this form at Writer's Digest Poetic Aside blog here.  This is my first ever attempt at writing an ovillejo open.  Hopefully I didn't mess it up to much.  Thanks for reading.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

“new morning routines”

I was never a morning person.  I would rather snuggle under blankets and steal a few more minutes of sleep.   The annoying alarm beeping, telling me it’s time to get up – the day lays ahead and there are things to do.  Yet in time I have been able to muster up enough energy to exercise when the sun is low and the air is cool.   A year ago this would have seem like a futile goal, yet here I exercising in the early light.  When all is done I get ready for work – shower, dress, eat breakfast, even read a poem or two.   Then I turn my attention to my smartphone and looked for messages from you.  Six months ago my phone would have been dead silent, but not since you came into my life like a fresh breeze.  Now every morning I look forward to the rising sun and your “good mornings”.

as the sun rises
living creatures come to life
new journeys begin

“walk with me”

come walk with me
under summer suns
take my hand in yours
let us chase clouds
pretend there are
no tomorrows
only today – you and I
in paradise like a
dream than never ends

Monday, June 6, 2016

“The road I travel”

the road I travel is long and winding
every place I pass I glance with longing eyes
my destination too far off in the distance
and I feel like I’m running out of time

my mind keeps asking have I gotten there yet
my heart keeps answering I will some day
I’m journeying along this unending road
sure and unsure of the final destination

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Poem for today:


We started out as friends, but time revealed true colors. I mistakenly saw you as a comrade, only to learn your dagger was aimed for my back.  I should have known when you told me about your father not allowing blacks in your house.  Yet I try to view you with a different lens – not stained by parent’s ignorance.   But as I said before, true colors eventually show.  In that notebook you shared with the other “friend”, talking about me in cruel ways.  Although I recall you tried to reflect most of the blame on her.

But you were no friend of mine.  Despite your efforts to stay friendly, I never really trusted you and kept you at arm’s length. Then came the time you tried to play matchmaker between me and another friend of yours.  “He’s a mutt like you”.  Wait - did you really say that?  Now, at 37, I would have cursed you out and ask God for forgiveness later.  But I was young and I let it slide – but not without placing that exchange in my mental file cabinet. 

Almost twenty years have passed in a blink of an eye.  There had been a few times I wondered where you were.  Perhaps you’re living the good life in a different city, state or country – or paying for deeds done in the dark.  I probably will never know, but it doesn’t matter. I let the past lay where it is – sleeping in dark shadows, undisturbed.   Perhaps I should thank you for lesson.  I now read between the lines of what people do or say – maybe that’s why I don’t easily fall for politicians or have many close friends.  

true friends are so rare
lost in the mist of fake ones
sun reveals their masks