“Lamenting round many voices come colleagues,
I said cometh and no one knew of the ataraxy,
Where or how my aperture throbbed daily,
No conations or bannerols just no aplomb for me,

Only an aperture of thorns that love had opened,
I and no one saw the moon that bled in my mouth,
Nor the blood rose that spiraling into the silence,
Dear one can we forget the perennials with such thorns,

It may be that the inlet will wash our prudence labors
The prudence labor of the love slowly apportioned,    
Love for you is the dedicated menial memories afore.
Heated toasts the past frolics of comatose seasons,

Tsunamis and barbarity swarm about our fettered feet
I felt the taste of flaming passion in mouth once again
All can be forgotten of travesties of the former that follow,
As now geysers that have flood deep in a vault of passion
  
May all be subdued to the useful and momentous occasion?
Come dear with me as if this will be our last day on this earth,
To the sounding furrows of a sonnet to our invigorated sonnet”
By Andrew Guzaldo 01/05/2020 © #183

“With the slow climb into the Mt Everest,
I will trade sea petrichor scent blooms in the day,
For burnt orange leaves last night’s wavy ocean,

A fire setting on a flat marsh horizon exchanged,
Of hills of colorful trees she presses these sights,
Unseen on her evergreen coast into waxed,

Paper memory books fixated in my mind for all time,
Adhered to the feelings that flow through one's veins,
To God we must leave it who has first gave it to us all,
By Andrew Guzaldo 06/25/2019 © #182

“Blanched islet embolden my words afore me,
Come with me as if I were impelling fatality,
That our midnight love rendezvous continue,  
All can be forgotten of travesty that followed,

The long day abates as moon climbs slowly,
Those phantasmagorias of life’s hardships,  
None saw the moon that exude in my mouth,
As I easily compare you to a luminary deity,

Meander of her invading my mind of those days,
Diligent of your induced nobility fills my days,
Our heated tribute the past drollery of seasons,
Prudence labor loving engendered us slowly,    

Could it be that the gulfs will wash us down,
As the vigorous fluting for my purpose holds,
Where how my pain palpitate substance of thee,
Are such fluttering intimacies means a euphoric end?
Or have I been fluttering in a phantasmagoric sonnet?      
By Andrew Guzaldo © 1/4/2020  #179

“That time of year is now beholden upon to my behold
When fall leaves drop ever so quickly leaving trees bare,
Upon those sprigs shaking now in the brittle cold,  
Even then the God gift of birds continues to warble,  

We now espy the eventide of days that plummet,
As repeatedly watch as the sun sets in the west,  
Oh how disastrous to not see luminosity in the morn,
That takes away the dreaded darkness of the nightfall,  

Peer long and hard enough at the fiber night sky,
In me you will see the radiance of sunlight fire,
Of this you will grasp what makes a tenacious love,
Love that well which I thou must devoir before long.

May I stare into your eyes again that bare brunt?
That I may rest on the ashes of my youth may I lay,
May I be absorbed by that of once had cultivated me,
Fatality its demise may seal my boundaries to my rest
Come with me my beloved as if I were the ebbing tide”
By Andrew Guzaldo 10/31/2018 ©

“We make midnight an autonomous time of year,
Colored lights glistening off the white frost,
Moonlights drawn by the evening clouds,
Troths offered to complete this mystical custom,

Awaiting that elfin hour anxious gods molding oar,
Each of us edacious for shining of such coruscation,
That of the candelabrum and wines of sorts to enthrall,
Audacious in thinking oblations will sojourn at a moment,

Of what is to come in New Year springtime fashions,
Synthetic faces all around as they stare of what may be,
Exuberance of the antithesis will follow coming year,
That impermanent as all the while serenity suspends,

Struggle with excitement for swaying to and thro,  
Couples embracing as the ending minutes arrive,  
Cessation as we wait for those last minutes to survive,
Leaving this just passed year we will hear nothing seems,

Then the clear crackle of explosions and applause all around,
Hoping to wonder that this New Year will not FROWN”
By Andrew Guzaldo ©  12/31/2019  #178
HAPPY NEW YEAR 2020 my POETIC Friends

“I avowal I won't protest sumptuous one,
Dark and uncanny way is where I long to be,
Here is where I would never be weary,
As she beamed her eyes with starlet green,

As I kissed her lips hundreds of times,
The top of her head to below forbidden line,
Shrinking sinews was procured flames of ardor,
As it trembled in subsequent delectation,

Authoring this a threnody of our beloved feelings,
Knowledge fact that you are a milquetoast woman,  
I a gregarious person to be around that of others,  
You will be enamored in ardor and pain no more,

Through the dun forest the poignancy that hinders,
When dawn arrives it wipes my impeded piquancy,
Onomatopoeia of words into echoes of stars in night,
With all my analogies thrown to the night my dear,
Once again may I be inebriated in the essence of my love,
By Andrew Guzaldo ©  12/30/2019  #177

“To linger in the coarseness of such tribulation without her,
Angel of unsullied which admits no stain I am a noble man,
Edges of decision apathetic illusion satiated in dreams,
Will we depict with agony like vertigo amidst our lives,

In need for something convivial of exploits and adventures,
I cannot choose love in the doorways of infertile sordidness,
Anima falls into the luring darkness of lugubrious calamity,
****** away despair nurture the exigency that is moirai,

Romance of every ideology torments the romance of another,
****** off the rancor and the cognizance of root anxieties,
Once an effulgence of brazenly resolute bond with others,
Beautiful in creation is squall to cultivate as natality begins,

Uncertain fate gets bathed from your inundated minds of euphoria
Clench  your that guard you through deserted nights of loneliness,
Inward images so engulf one seeking affinity of future natality,
In the lateness of the world primal lamenting not to succumb to
Infertile Sordidness”
By Andrew Guzaldo ©  12/15/2019  #176