“scent”

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. 

"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.

“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

“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.

“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

- Written for dVerse Halibun Monday: 50 Shades of Rain

Second poem for today:

“kiss”

your

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:

"Doubt”

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

"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

- Written for dVerse Quadrille 11 - still

“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

“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.

“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

- Written for dVerse Halibun Monday #15 All Things Quotidian

“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

“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

- Written in response to Writer's Digest Poetic Aside prompt #352 - are we there yet"

Poem for today:

"Friend?"

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

- A halibun style poem written for dVerse Poetics prompt: Even Monkey Fall from Trees - a poem about mistakes