Tag Archives: #writing

LOVE’S LAUGHTER

She stood before me, dressed in sheer delicate fabric,
as the towering trees outside brushed their leaves
against windows, almost tauntingly close.

I sat in my armchair, hands clasped tightly, watching her every move
with a mix of awe and longing.

Seeing Emily Dickinson writing at her desk

Her petite feet, like works of art, trembled with pleasure on the floor.
As a stray beam of sunlight danced across her face, it illuminated her smile
and accentuated the curves of her body.

I leaned in and pressed my lips softly against her ankle, And she let out a soft,
musical giggle that filled the room.

Her laugh was like a symphony of sound,

And it made my heart skip a beat.

She said, “Phillip! Write!”

:: 02.28.2023 ::


THE SUN KNEW

Sun knew, its golden gaze
Witnessed our flight, our mortal blaze
We soared upon its fervent rays
And danced amidst the warmth it lays.

Yet in fiery expanse, we fell
On winds of summer, where echoes dwell
As life surrendered, we bid farewell
To earthly bounds, to earthly spell.

From parted streams of breath we formed
A tapestry of souls, forever warmed
By memories shared, by love adorned
Ghosts of the past, in sunlight stormed.

Beneath the twilight’s shimmering hue,
A bridge emerges, steadfast and true.
Connecting realms of old and new,
A passage where dreams can once more ensue.

The Sun, the ancient sentinel
It saw our flight, our fate foretell
In its celestial realm, it could tell
The secrets hidden within its cell

For Sun is more than mere daylight’s gleam
It holds the essence of each dream
It weaves the threads of life’s grand scheme
And in its radiance, we find our esteem

So let us honor the Sun’s embrace
In its eternal light, we find solace and grace
For it knows the journeys that we trace
And in its wisdom, we find our place.

:: 07.12.2023 ::


LA CATEDRAL (In Two Verses)

(Free Verse)

In the realm where love’s melodies reside,
There blooms a song, like a heavenly tide,
“La Catedral” whispers tales of amour,
A ballad of passion, forever to endure.

Within its notes, a symphony takes flight,
A serenade enchanting, kissed by moonlight,
As fingers dance on strings, soft and tender,
They weave a tapestry, a love so splendor.

Oh, how this melody captures our hearts,
A timeless verse, a masterpiece of arts,
The guitar weeps, each strum a lover’s sigh,
Caressing souls, beneath a starlit sky.

In the cadence, echoes of love’s embrace,
A sacred bond, two souls interlace,
Notes intertwine, like lovers in a dance,
Guided by the moon’s alluring romance.

La Catedral, a sanctuary of devotion,
In its hallowed chambers, hearts find a notion,
Of love’s resplendence, ever so divine,
An eternal flame, forever to shine.

With each arpeggio, love’s story unfolds,
As passion’s tale in symphonic hues molds,
Whispered vows echo through the cathedral’s walls,
A love unbreakable, as the music enthralls.

So let us sway to this romantic tune,
Underneath the moon, bathed in love’s cocoon,
For “La Catedral” carries our desires,
Igniting flames of love, like eternal fires.

Together, we’ll create our own love’s sonnet,
As this sweet melody lingers, never to forget,
Forever bound in the enchantment it bestows,
In the realm of love, where our hearts eternally glow.

:: 07.10.2023 ::

(Sonnet)

In love’s enchanting realm, a melody sways,
“La Catedral” weaves its romantic spell,
A ballad of passion that forever stays,
Within our hearts, where true affections dwell.

Soft notes cascade like moonbeams on the breeze,
Their gentle touch ignites a lover’s fire,
In arpeggios, whispers of ardor tease,
Creating a symphony of love’s desire.

With each sweet chord, two souls find their embrace,
Their hearts entwined, harmonious and true,
In sacred rhythm, love’s essence finds grace,
As melodies entwine, forever anew.

“La Catedral” weaves a sonnet divine,
A timeless ode to love, forever thine.

:: 07.10.2023 ::

(YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NvTgRwJaAA8)


A GIRL WITH KALEIDOSCOPE EYES

WHEN i think of my precious mind
and i am just down there
just one more wine ~~ we’ve all
gone crazy ., in the small room sitting
and thinking, “Just one more drink”

rolling inside the head /that had
me almost tied\ like butterflies
flying away bye bye | i saw her
: alice running inside the Rabbit
Hole \ reality hypnotized almost
had me tied || i now realize
how the never showers of rain
like dirt dammit — i am sick
and tired of my head but someone
saved me______almost had me roped
and tied ~~~ and like butterflies

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

We ate marsh mellow pies and coughed
a lung and used it as an umbrilla

The deep immortal human wish,
the timeless will:

           Cinquez its deathless primaveral image,   
           life that transfigures many lives.

   Voyage through death
                                 to life upon these shores.

And the line at the theater was long so we rode off
finding silver roads and lights within the skies

And Gluck said:

It is not the moon, I tell you.
It is these flowers
lighting the yard.

I hate them.
I hate them as I hate sex,
the man’s mouth
sealing my mouth, the man’s
paralyzing body—

and the cry that always escapes,
the low, humiliating
premise of union—

And lucy sings her song in the skies

:: 07.07.2023 ::


DOCTOR BEAKY OF ROME

AT the scene of suicide
plague doctor of Marseilles
stopped by with two small
nose holes in a mask;
a respirator containing
aromatic items — beak
holding dried flowers

Blessed is me
while i am a beak of terror
keeping away evil smells

All according to miasma theory
all my costume kills
before the children wail
so i am the plague doctor
of Marseilles aka ‘Dr
Beaky of Rome’
Follow me into the Sun

So follow me as One
such absurdity is life
to be born without a gun

i am the wounded One
you are the victim
the victim of life and love

:: 06-01-2016 ::

Poet’s Notes:

“Doctor Beaky of Rome” explores the theme of mortality and the role of a plague doctor in the context of the Marseilles plague.

The poem opens with a vivid scene of suicide, drawing attention to the dark and morbid atmosphere.

The presence of the plague doctor, characterized by the two small nose holes in the mask and a beak holding dried flowers, highlights the doctor’s role in combating the plague and protecting against harmful odors.

The phrase “Blessed is me” suggests that the plague doctor finds a sense of purpose and fulfillment in his terrifying task of warding off evil smells and the threat of disease. The reference to the miasma theory reflects the prevailing belief at the time that diseases were caused by noxious odors or “miasmas.” The doctor’s costume is seen as a form of protection that inadvertently contributes to the deaths it seeks to prevent.

The line “before the children wail” implies that the doctor’s presence and actions may cause distress and fear among those he aims to save. Despite this, he continues his duty as the plague doctor, earning the nickname “Dr Beaky of Rome” for his association with the city. The phrase “Follow me into the Sun” could be interpreted as an invitation to face the harsh reality of life, even in the face of suffering and death.

The subsequent stanza introduces a shift in perspective, urging readers to embrace life’s absurdities and contradictions. The phrase “such absurdity is life” suggests that the inherent contradictions and unpredictability of life are inevitable and must be accepted. The line “to be born without a gun” metaphorically conveys the idea that life itself is inherently vulnerable and fragile.


Love

And I loved everyone
and loved.

I did alone.

:: 07.03.2023 ::


Untitled


In moonlight’s tender hold, my demons dwell, Where voided thoughts find solace and reprieve. Each breath awakens the ocean’s ebb and swell, While purpose resounds, my soul begins to believe.

Within my core, the mist dissolves with grace, And thoughts unfurl beneath a healed cocoon. From distant realms, memories gently trace, Reason’s beacon shines within Genius’s boon.

Thou stirred me, tears cascaded with delight, I found my way amid the depths of lost. Could it be true? Such sweet awareness alights, Long yearned, selfishness paid its final cost.

Though sunlit grace eludes, a distant gleam, Your visage lingers, treasured in my sight. Flesh’s deceit, emotions’ tender stream, Chemicals and thoughts ignite with might.

A solemn truth embraced, its flame burns bright, Life’s delicate waltz, in fragility’s hold. Solace sought in both shadows and light, Chance’s tapestry woven, gracefully untold.


SILENT EYES AND FRAGILE HANDS

SOMEWHERE, I’ve wandered gladly, far from known,
No prior journey mirrors what I’ve found.

Your eyes, in silence, hold a realm unknown,
In fragile gestures, mysteries abound.

Your gentle gaze can swiftly set me free,
Though I, like closed fingers, sought to conceal.

You, like spring unfolding, unfetter me,
With artful touch, revealing love’s ideal.

Yet if your desire is to keep me closed,
My life shall close in beauty, swift and grand.

Like snowfall on a flower, heart composed,
Imagining a world covered in white sand.

No earthly sight can match your fragile might,
Whose textured essence captivates my soul,

Infusing death and eternity in flight,
With each breath, harmonizing as a whole.

I cannot fathom what it is in you,
That both shuts tight and opens wide the door.

But something deep within me grasps the view,
Your eyes’ voice resonates, surpassing more.

No entity, not raindrops in their fall,
Possesses hands as tender as your own.

In their small grasp, the world’s wonders enthrall,
A touch that whispers secrets yet unknown.

:: 06.29.2023 ::


TRANSIENT SPLENDOR — LOVE’S BATTLE WITH TIME

WHEN I ponder upon life’s transient bloom,
Perfection fleeting like a fragile wisp,
This grand stage merely a celestial room,
Where hidden stars their whispered influence slip.

As I witness mankind’s growth and decline,
By the same sky’s whims, both blessed and denied,
They revel in youth, its brilliance does shine,
Yet fade away, forgotten, their glory beside.

Thus, the notion of impermanence’s reign,
Reveals your youth’s opulence, profound and rare,
Where Time and Decay engage in a poignant strain,
Transforming bright days to nights, disrepair.

In this war with Time, for love’s sacred plea,
As he robs from you, I graft anew, eternally.

:: 06.26.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

“Transient Splendor: Love’s Battle with Time” is a remarkable piece that captures the essence of life’s fleeting beauty and the eternal struggle between love and the passage of time. The poem’s opening lines set a reflective and contemplative tone, as this poet ponders the evanescent nature of existence. The use of “transient bloom” and “fragile wisp” suggests the fragile and ephemeral quality of perfection.

The notion of life as a “grand stage” and the reference to “hidden stars” subtly alludes to the celestial forces that influence human destiny. The poet becomes a witness to the cycle of growth and decline experienced by humanity, their fate determined by the capricious whims of the sky. The juxtaposition of the revelry in youth’s brilliance and its eventual fading into oblivion evokes a sense of melancholy and the transient nature of human glory.

The concept of impermanence is central to the poem, as this poet acknowledges the reign of transience. The juxtaposition of “youth’s opulence, profound and rare” and the inevitable confrontation between Time and Decay creates a poignant tension. The transformation of bright days into nights of disrepair underscores the inevitable decay and loss experienced over time.

The poem’s conclusion presents a noble and impassioned declaration of love’s resilience against the relentless march of Time. The poet engages in a war with Time, vowing to rejuvenate and perpetuate love’s essence. The imagery of grafting anew symbolizes the eternal power of love to regenerate and transcend the limitations imposed by the passage of time.

Overall, “Transient Splendor: Love’s Battle with Time” showcases the mastery of expression by this poet, weaving together profound reflections on mortality, the fleeting nature of beauty, and the enduring strength of love. The poem’s skillful employment of imagery, rhyme, and depth of thought elevates it to the realm of timeless art.


REFLECTIONS OF TIME

lOoK iN thY glAss, AnD tElL tHe fAce thOu ViEwEs
noW iS thE tImE tHaT fAce ShOUlD fOrm AnOtHer;
wHOsE fREsh rEpaIr iF nOw tHou NOt rEnEwEs,
thOu dOst bEguIlE tHe WOrLD, UnblEss sOme mOthEr.

fOr WhErE is sHE sO fAir wHOsE UnEaR’d wOmb
dIsdAIns thE tILlaGe Of tHY hUsbANdRy?
Or wHO iS hE sO foNd wILl bE tHe tOmB
Of hIS sElf-lOvE, tO stOp pOstEritY?

tHoU ArT thY mOthEr’s glAsS, AnD sHE iN thEe
cAllS bAcK thE lOvElY aPrIl Of hEr prImE:
sO tHou tHrOugH wINdoWs Of tHinE aGe sHAll sEE
dEspItE Of WrInkLes tHIs tHy gOldEn tImE.

buT iF thOu lIvE, rEmEmbEr’d NOt tO bE,
dIe sIngLE, AnD tHiNe iMAgE dIes wITh thEe.

:: 06.26.2023 ::