29 May 2011


Darling, please allow me to throw myself upon your mercy, before you dismiss my poems of silence, which you once adored through my teary eyes.

In this frolicsome paradise of my heart, the pursuit of happiness was first formed between us via the perfect storm we created.

If you recall…the perfect storm is two raging hearts burning with passion inside the fire of romance that leaves fragrant ashes upon their lips.

Under luminous colors, the beauty of your spirit haunts me with the countenance of a woman bringing me to my knees for the breath of her sweet kisses.

Darling, these strings of my heart continue to play your song amidst the rising sun and the eternal moonlight glowing above a lonely stream.

Sadly, the perfect storm has become unkind to my soul, ever since the temptress of life unleashed her fury upon the death of my poems, which are no longer desirable to her beautiful eyes.


22 May 2011

A poet muses...
His pen scribbles...
Two become one,
Timeless beauty is created...
Andy David 05/22/2011

I received the Wk44 Perfect Poet Award for my poem THROUGH OPEN EYES, which was shared with Thursday Poets Rally. My sincere thanks goes out to JinglePromising Poets Poetry Cafe, Thursday Poets Rally and all those kind readers who nominated me.
My nomination for Wk45 is Andy McDonald - MAKE IT A REALITY



The evening wind has kissed my heart with sultry thoughts of a beautiful woman dreaming of me in fantasies.

Her once broken dreams have been mended with kindness through the written words of a small collection of my poems.

She reads them late into the night and finds forgotten treasures of romance and love glowing from their pages.

Could she be the muse who has come into my life to remind me that my prose poems are also gifts for the weak, lonely and brokenhearted?

Inside the melancholy of my most precious poems, a feeling of contentment flows mellifluously from her tender heart to mine.

When I hear her lamenting in silent sorrow, I am overcome with intense emotion and wish I could cleanse her tears with words written only from love.

The evening wind has indeed kissed my lips with the sweet, perfume scent of this beautiful woman as we search for each other beneath life's mysterious enchantments.

*Image from wikimedia.org
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15 May 2011


The flames of passion have consumed my heart with joy, because of the temptress who embraced my poetry with tear-filled eyes.

When dusk sets in, I find myself writing words once scattered in fantasy, but now decorated upon paper…in the form of her beautiful smile.

Fickle by nature, her beauty displays human sweetness among swaying flowers that have never seen the light of femininity.

What mystery is this my heart has come to know, when poetic words are all that we share?

Life's luminous colors now appear more radiant to me, because of the jewels I have found through the sparkle in her eyes.

In celebration of our literary friendship, she gracefully inspires and motivates me to pen words of fire upon the parchments of my lonely dreams.

When dusk sets in, our hearts secretly bear the same rhythmic happiness, while searching for tender moments in which to indulge our random musings.


13 May 2011


Lady Flower, I cannot hide it any longer…after being frightened by the things I saw in your unfaithful eyes, I must become a prisoner of my own heart.

Now I know the eminence I achieved over the years came not from the reality of you, but from my romantic fantasies of love.

The emotional sustenance I longed for from you to complete my happiness and to comfort me through life's lonesomeness has instead turned out to be like the stroke of death burying me in the enslaved embrace of a broken heart.

Darling, you may not know this, but you cut me open every time with your lies, leaving me to bleed beneath the unpleasant wonderment of doubt…the kind causing a man to cry in silence among a crowd, but out loud when all alone.

Even though my reflection might seem vivacious to many, I have become blind to the beauty of life and find myself staring into an empty mirror. 

Quite frankly, my reflection in the mirror shows a forgotten man whose heart has been conquered by a woman seeking her happiness in dreams that never really included him.

*Image source
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Alphabe-Thursday Rd3 Letter "R"
Poetry Potluck Wk39 "Dictatorship, Autocracy & Despotism"


08 May 2011


My eyes have become full of pain after watching a brokenhearted woman become lost beneath the cruelty of an unfaithful love.

In conjunction with her sorrow, she searches frantically throughout the night for a place to hide her empty soul.

How can I offer her comfort and compassion without making her feel uneasy about my sincere kindness?

Her swollen eyes are red from the fire of tears…the kind that holds the human heart hostage over a furnace burning with malediction and darkness.

What a dilemma for this heart of mine - to choose to ignore her wretchedness or to dry her tears with my handkerchief of honesty.

Of course, I must opt for the latter, for the brilliance of love's beauty within the eyes of such an attractive woman cannot be hidden from a stranger like me.

Taking her trembling hand, I gently guide her into a dream draped with flowers hanging from the branches of my heart.

Deep down inside, she knew love had finally found her…through the intense and emotional tears of this mysterious stranger.

*Image modified from abstract.desktopnexus.com 
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06 May 2011


Eve, the mother of all flowers, was created with perfect love by the loving hands of the Almighty Himself.

Her purpose was to fill the earth and decorate it with flowering children born from her sweet spirit and everlasting fragrance.

Mother, you are the greatest jewel upon the crown of contentment, which I shall wear from your discipline and teachings.

From your sacred hands, I ate my first bread and from your bosom, I drank my first milk for nourishment to grow alongside you with love.

Your beautiful eyes upon my soul are always filled with mercy and maternal love and the sound of your whispering voice is the most harmonious melody my heart has ever known.

From birth, the imprint of your first kiss has remained upon my face and my first tears were like raindrops upon your shoulders, as you gently swayed to comfort me in your loving arms.

You are my wisdom in life and the emerald lamp burning with beauty in my darkest path, for the flame of your tender love, Mother, is the greatest light my eyes have ever seen.

When I took my first steps, I can remember holding the hem of your pretty dress.

Today, I am honored to walk alongside you...only this time, I will be the one holding your hand.

The cup of love you gave me to drink will forever quench my thirst, as opposed to the tasteless water offered by a stranger.

"Mother" is the most beautiful word ever uttered by the lips of humans, for it is filled with hope, love, beauty and warmth.

In tearful sadness, mother is the consolation and in dreams born from silent darkness, she is the strength of encouragement.

Mother, you are the golden cloud raining droplets of love upon my heart, for when I sit among flowers of beauty, I see only you as the most exquisite flower in my life arrayed with the everlasting fragrance of the first woman, Eve.

Mother, I will forever love you with never-ending love.

Written for my beautiful Mother whom I celebrate not just on Mother's Day, but every day. 
(*photo by EPGoddess)


01 May 2011


Behind this ordinary pen lies the empty heart of a lonely poet who scribbles well into the darkness, until a new dawn comes into view.

He writes about a woman whom he sees only in his dreams, even though her smile surpasses the reality of his greatest imagination.

Like a flower trembling under the rain, so the heart of this beautiful woman reaches for someone to shelter her from the sorrows of life.

Driven by a burning desire for love, he searches frantically for her feminine essence among simple words that have not yet been written.

As he scribbles a verse of love, he visualizes her pretty face giving him the inspiration to pen the sweetest thoughts his lonely heart can ever dream of.

Even in exile, she comes to him upon the winds and kisses his tears that wet her lips in return with the beauty of this man's deepest emotions.

The lonely poet may have finally unearthed the mystery of love behind this ordinary pen - via the reader's eyes, which become engrossed with the intense lovemaking of his [poet's] words amidst the silent darkness of the night.