I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. I am also into writing poetry. Come along for the ride.

Posts tagged “love

When We Do Encounter Time


In a romantic sidewalk cafe,

drawn by sweet energy,

our touch imagined

becomes one,

a soft reminder of why,

of what, of when, because,

we might, we can, we wish

to then hold one another

in passion’s embrace.

 

We do then find our smile,

a touch,

fingertip trace a familiar strand of elegance,

a smile while raised eyebrows

suggest comfort lost and found again,

hands fall together to hold on,

to hold on,

to allow time to pass while hearts do breathe.

 

Smile with me, and know forever is

the immediacy of love.


When Walking Alone


There is a difference in tone,

a solitary figure in a moonlit backdrop,

the sky is a canvas capable of new horizons,

if only for a moment the character

might stand completely still.

 

Completely still inside a memory,

holding onto the silence,

a wishful recall

a sweet response to time

is all the solitary figure might choose.

 

Might choose offers certain doubt,

when realizing how time plays a role

in knowing love,

he does want to stand there forever,

in the hope that stillness might be a blessing.

 

She is that fond imagination,

the caress of somber spirituality,

the sort that energy

speaks of out loud

without any reservation, ever.

 

I once recall a story of a man,

caught inside a cycle of quiet remind,

always pushing, forever angling,

imagining the final stride would

accentuate his peak, yet the fall …

 

There is a breaking point in sanity,

when beyond the notion of real,

the body might sacrifice comfort,

instead a forever lust toward peace,

will always compel a forgiveness ahead.

 

When walking alone hopeful by design,

I would the eternal march quiet resign.


This Place I Never Go


It is dark in its gloomy tone,

I tend to walk past,

always feeling known,

yet able in the light

to find safe passage.

 

Away from the dark places

in my mind,

those foreboding regions

of despondent hell

where reality laughs

in the face of love.

 

Tonight I have been asked

to step inside

to slam the door closed

to not ever reach back

for my words

are no longer welcome.

 

It is a dark place

where fear resides.


A Clear Night in December


There is clarity,

in walking through our reality,

I’m in a hurry,

hoping to find you there.

 

I watched every person,

family, couple, single woman

walking through the

popular restaurant.

 

The streets were active,

holiday festivities,

the spirit of love in the air,

except alone I stood in the crowd.

 

I was waiting, hoping, wanting,

I wished for an interaction,

a notice,

the possibility our paths might cross.

 

The night belonged to the active locals,

A quiet little borough, where I couldn’t find her.


For This Kiss, I Would


Wait until the end of a storm, to know,

when gray disappears, I could find you,

for that is my blue,

my wonder,

that is my intrigue asking to be found.

 

For it is this kiss, I might hesitate,

wanton desire,

yet in this moment,

I leave my passion suspended,

for it is in your heart I want

only peace,

and there, by the moonlight,

standing on a bridge,

artsy,

it is where you will find my soul.

 

Tonight, in the breeze,

a chill of reality plays our soft tell,

yet,

stand with me, hold me, see me,

know that I would walk the hours

to have your heart

share my love for you.

 

For it is that intrigue,

so might we imagine,

so wrapped in words of

a timeless tradition …

romance,

for while I glance the sky,

I’m at peace realizing I never will,

I’ll always be satisfied,

knowing I don’t know why


Romantic Interlude


clever portrayal

camera ready level

candelight measure


Inside The Mind Of Depression


I wonder if they know,

his mind was quite unspoken,

when a revelation

of sanity would steal his passion.

 

Sitting alone again,

alone again,

sitting again in the quiet of an evening,

wondering just how this happens,

wandering throughout the many avenues,

the mind will take this forlorn

mechanic

this human condition,

this interaction,

a travesty one might suggest if only anyone else

really cared as much as

the real victims that exist around

our selves

all the time.

 

Ever do we wonder about the soul,

when lost in the critical masses

of exceptional reasoning.

 

Inside that depression piece,

seems to speak its own mind

when no other reasoning

comes to mind.

 

On a given day,

the world,

no matter if it might be local,

perhaps across the world,

there is a reason,

if in the beat of our audible pulse,

the heart can speak,

and she will honor love.