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. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

on society

While Love Travels Alone

We try to suggest we own,

the feeling of love,

oh, I do love you,

I love you so much,

all my love,

I will love you forever,

I love the notion of …



It will test our ability to understand,

to compliment,

to recognize how much we love,

a sight in a setting sun,

the rush of a forest waterfall,

an essence of life’s mystery in the evocative

setting of a lush rainforest.


All these are matters of the heart,

and after all,

isn’t love an emotional receptor,

or perhaps it is a deceiver

for that is the only rhyme I could find,

in the balance of this testimony.


For I do love you,

I always will, and no matter

the deceptive nature of my words,

the truth will win itself out,

and time will be our gift.

Reminders of Altered States

I remember now,

how I laughed and cried,

and eventually tried

to see the end of a long

narrow scope,

one that did not contain anyone

to measure true elegance.


I recall yet, still,

in the absurdity of reason,

wondering how to fill a void

beyond this energy,

her energy,

knowing yet even still,

I had no reason to be wishing so.


We form unions,

when we do,

we carefully decide upon choice,

and yet,

there is that piece, that part of


the skeptic, the wanderer, the


seems always to wonder.


Is it lust,

that calls upon our definition

of love,

so powerful we with willing,

create difficult scenarios,

the sort they make movies about,

write epic literary rendezvous,

with names like Fitzgerald,

Nin, Yves, Chopin, even Oates is real.


I once knew a woman,

whom when shadows failed,

the strict sunlight of an opaque desert,

called me forward,

and with each grain of sand I might encounter,

I could clearly see,

no reminder, no parallel,

no one would ever come close,

in the affirming nature of


I came to realize truth

is a lovely complexity.

On Art Museums, Love & the Stage


There are places we like to be,

to find, to allow our selves to evolve

while others walk about totally unaware

of cathartic dreams.


Perhaps the man in crimson rendezvous is suffering,

yet all eyes would only imagine,

his to be an outward glance

toward a unique fire in his mind.


There is always love in the midst of pure artistic restraint,

caught in the canvas of our own study,

the desire to know, to understand,

to interpret wholly the reason being.


I walked inside an auditorium only to witness

beauty arise, brought me upon a newer plane,

a place where all our lives,

are meant to thrive within the dimensions allowed.


So do you walk, appreciate the grace of freedom,

the mind is gravy to the shadows

that take us on different paths,

yet seem to meet in the surreal atmosphere.


We are together always in tune,

in wonder, in delicious delight, akin

our lives, hearts, finding soul in rest,

will continue sweet illusion is love.


*Photo found on Time Out Magazine

Sweet Seduction Seed

We would

if to imagine

grow a bountiful green

with desire’s energy.

Plant a seed

to know passion

will certainly have blossom,

will breathe the beauty of release.

When while our mind

compels fantasy toward time

our lives welcome the seduction,

that playful reminder rewind.

A swift garment slide surreal

precious an internal fire

will ignite all we recognize

to be climactic to the touch.

We are that readied force

of human nature in fruition

when lust intertwined create

explosive reality, soft serenade.

When now hearts

settle quiet

to utter



Knowing Spaces

I wonder sometimes if we can play hearts

like the game

we always finish,

sometimes happy, sometime spoiled.

If I could,

would you let me break your heart – time would tell,

it cannot be an easy task,

such is the physical notion of that something we end up

recognizing in some organic fashion,

only after we have come to terms with our loss,

your gain, my only time I ever understood,

not really,

but that worked the last time.

Where have you gone again,

I keep feeling lost in empty spaces,

not knowing just how far I can step inside …


There was this time when nothing else really ever mattered,

we were kids then,

we are not the children we claim to always plan to be,

our elders have become ourselves,

yet still my body, this old yet alive man, this woman,

we still do recognize beauty, we understand elegance,

we can be the romantic love we would hope

somehow, somewhere – just problematic,

knowing spaces.

Lost Inside Love

There was sex,

I liked it, a lot actually,

especially when it happened,

that moment, when reaching inside each other’s


we did suddenly feel the tears of our release,

together bodies scrambling to be closer in any way

our skin could grace one another’s

gasps, cries, screams for

want you more, I want to have you more,

I want, wish you only me, just now, please I do,

only want you here now in this moment, today,

immediate satisfaction, take me inside of you,

let me have you inside of me.

Now go away.


There was that time we knew what love meant,

we didn’t confuse it with sex,

yet someone else in the back of my mind,

convinced me a while ago, the two always belong together,

and then she walked into the room,

and I knew I couldn’t love her,

and no one came close to wearing leggings quite the same …


I was lost again, and now had begun to wonder about comfort,

not just my own though ….


What Happens Inside

When I see you,

a stranger in milky night,

perhaps only a smile

if in the right light,

yet what happens inside of you,

when I do glance a while.

What happens when I know there is a fire

could we ignite a smoldering passion,

with the right time,

is today that moment,

could you shed all of your layers

let the freedom


that desire, passion, unbridled fashion,

we all might simply

in a safe world,

without scrutiny label


What happens when friction

becomes that avenue towards fruition,

why is it we remark upon that memory,

of anguish turned frustration turns wanton release.

How do we decide when the glance

might be just that spark

we could hope,

we might wish,

if I do catch your eye, would then you reveal

your interior smile.