Before I begin, I must tell you in my native tongue that I love you. I adore you with every fiber of my being. I am not telling you this out of promise for future romance; nor out of unyielding compulsion. None of these. No. I can only express these verbal incantations of affection to you due to one sole reason, and this purpose alone. You cannot understand a single word pouring from my silent lips. I watched you from atop of my Spanish villa as you bathed in the rays of Apollo. I tried, oh how desperate were my attempts not to look. Not to bask in the warmth of your beauty for all of eternity, as I wish I could. Doubtful are my beliefs that you will ever know my name. Never will you notice my admiration of you amidst this crowd. I love you only in the privacy of my own heart, although I wish I knew you. Not the 'you' everyone knows through casual conversations and late-night soirees. No. I wish to know the real you. The you of presence. The 'you' you keep concealed in the walls of your sandy skin; shielded by a broken heart no one bothered repairing. I would have reconstructed these shards then, as I would now. You need only ask. Only glance this way.
So, my dear, sweet, whomever, if this sonnet, dedicated to your evanescent frame, were to ever become published, only to be translated into different languages and dispersed among the continents, like so many in the past have; I pray this poem, singing praises to your illustriousness, and yours, alone, finds its way into the palm of your hand. Only then will you know, without knowing, what I have known since that day. You are forever immortal. Forever young.

Proper with sight seen
Making the noise of privilege
If not the cares of reprimand
Long to the land, we know callousness, like a religion

No epitome, no illustriousness
In the again of since and a charity
Of veracity complete, to a sincere guess
The reigning hello, of decision of life, in its variety

So made, so accused
A marriage of such and conclusions much...
To due, the courage to acquire the boding, of enthusiasm
Still to worldly eyes, is a relationship with vice the only cause?

The only cause to develop a change of merit, into the living
Taste and testimony, always were...
The taken and made, hour of hope come from a running
Stead and foresworn need, the role of vision is for...

A head above the water, of mutual suicide
Silence of heaven, with a realization of couth
Could in the shared eyes of composure, to these even wryed
Is a levity in cares, that rise above the uncertainty of carnal who'd?

shine on, you perplexed ruby red light; shined on for your years of ambiance, and now the shine's seemingly dulled.
as the illuminated street signs show you the way out of your own head and into the house where you'd rather sleep all day than clean, read or create; illustriousness never held much of a hold on the mind you've let burn into a pile of carbonated waste.
in the silence you've surrounded yourself in, you've found that there's too much going on in your own head for anything to ever be quiet, so you scream.
as the death of another loved one fills your heart with sorrow and pain, there seems to be a new reason to figure this one out on your own; there was nothing you'd missed over the years, but you've always seemed to ignore the social ques and questions you knew felt needed left unanswered.

in light, there is darkness.  and in darkness there is light.  it's all a matter of perspective.

My Way
I saw the three tenors sing “I did it my way” mind, the fat one died,
and the two others hate each other and never appear in public if
they can avoid it. Of the two one looks like an aging matinée idol
the other suffers from being mobbed at school  and looks scared
has nightmares and takes to tears before going on stage.


I still like Frank Sinatra's rendition of that song better he sang
it so relaxed with a clear diction and  made me think of a man
with a six pack ambling on his way home  he too is dead to
“My Way” is about human hubris we think we are masters of our
destiny when we are leaves blowing along a wet asphalted road
in the autumnal half-light.  

Thinking back- I can afford to- I never got a thing my way which when
young caused me bitterness the highest prize eluded me kismet knew
I could not handle illustriousness it would have made me look absurd
a swaggering fool hated by colleagues, on the stage of life. Yet, when
dancing the tango at a nightclub in Buenos Aires 54 years ago the applause
I received still rings sweetly in my ears.

I heard the supreme sounds
of the wind encompassing me,
the perfect green trees spinning
their leaves in the intriguing scenery,
stately white seagulls flapping
their wings in the deeply blue
and luminous seas as you
entered my mind, taking me
to eye-poppingly flawless places.

I fell in love with the blossoming pages
to your beautiful soul, remembering
how serene my skin felt when I encountered
your astounding desirability, ****** inside your love,
never getting enough of the way you blazed
my body with your stimulating touch.

How could a man like you mesmerize me continuously?
I was so strung out over you, feeling your suggestiveness
in my skin, spending time alone, pondering about you
in my car, so ready to drive over you to your home,
and feel your fervid wholeness all over me again,
showing me that you were in it to win it,
digging every minute around you,
wanting to share everything about my life with you,
just to be in your view, to see your irresistible smile,
the way the sun lit up the **** in you,
the way the enormous white clouds flowed
in unanimity with you, to be with you was everything
that I wanted, everything that felt so amazing to me.

A vibrant, fascinating man like you made me feel
so overjoyed inside, seeing the vast, incomparable
galaxies in your diamond black eyes, your body
so enchantingly sweet, so full of alluring geometry,
making me long to fall inside the blissful memories
of you, and never leave to be anywhere else.

You gave me a multitude of imaginative discoveries,
lingering inside your lavender stream, feeling
the amplifying anticipation to escape inside your ethereal
space, to weave our hearts together, drenched in your hottest
dreams, swallowing your steam, soaked in your magnetic
metaphors that struck me to the core like electricity.
I bopped my head to the appealing beat of your romantic
verses, jocundly blushing, flushed with fragrant pleasures,
how you had me crushing again, held in enslavement by you,
by your smoothness, being clothed in your ambrosial flow,
the way I glowed like slick leaking honey from a glass container,
succumbing to your musical intonation, your graceful bus station
that waits for me to arrive at is desired location, to pick me up
as I stepped inside to breathtaking innovations, more like
significant *******, encircling me in your burst of masculinity.

I felt fulfilled with you, like a glorious and victorious army
after winning a long and raging battle, preserving the magic
that you brought to me, the spontaneous kisses, and licks
on my cheeks, sheathed in the passionate motion of your poetic
melody, so eager to be caressed by you, to be flamed by your slang
speech, consumed inside your immense, extreme heat, so ******
and drawn on you, moaning, longing, dissolving in the wildness
of your sinuous rhymes that I could never be without.

Your honeyed sweetness glistened like a mellow and radiant
moonlight, blooming to life like a romantic land filled
with beautiful and delicately scented flowers, enlivening me,
introducing me to the starry constellations where the heavens
gleam around your irreproachable comeliness, your dancing
dreads draped in artistic designs, hanging down your back,
the way your seductive scent streamed over me, infecting
my thoughts with the blazing taste of your creation sliding
down my throat, making me float in your fervent illustriousness.