Now Available: A Jilted Lover

I would like to present a collection of classically styled, romance prose and poems with 21st century heartbreak. Complete with a preface, prologue and an epilogue, the collection, A Jilted Lover, is roughly 4,500 words.

It’s a juxtaposition of profound physical setting and internal passions; it’s a long, winding road and the unknown, it’s the seething ocean and resignation to fate, it’s valor to melancholy, passionate inebriation and romantic pining- these are the expressions of a jilted lover that hold value for everyone who has had something so important in their life suddenly pack its bags.

Buy now on Createspace and be the first to get your hands on a limited edition: https://www.createspace.com/4657315

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In the Style of Robert Burns: Ode to a Scottish Writer

In the Style of Robert Burns:

She’s as gone as dust, brotherRobert Burns Style, Draft April 2014
If ye’ bother, man,
You’ll find her favor,
A’ changin’ wi’ another, brother-
She’s as gone as dust, man.
Try nae gither ashes,
Nor rake em’,
Try nae tell ya, man,
It’s all burnt up,
Not a page remains, brother-
Put air in yer’ hand and close it,
Don’t peak,
I’ll tell ya’, man,
It’s not there
You never had it brother-
Take it frae a jilted lover,
tae try for ‘nother, man.

Robert Burns Portrait

Robert Burns Portrait

Robert Burns was a famed Scottish writer and poet who lived during the mid till late 18th century. He was noted for catching the sympathies and feelings of the nation through his colloquial Scottish brogue and emotionally connected prose that struck a chord with his fellow kin. His poetry is considered romantic and ranged in themes from historical, pastoral and ballad like. Many pieces included mournful odes to women and squandered fortune- but a balladeer he was.  Here is an excerpt from a favorite ballad named, Whistle which is a summons of famous figures to a heroic drinking contest:
Unmatch’d at the bottle,
unconquer’d in war,
He drank his poor god-ship as deep as the sea…
Roberts life was one marked for misfortune and poor health but through his brilliance of mind his writing lives on.

Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro’ life I’m doom’d to wander, O, Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber, O: No view nor care, but shun whate’er might breed me pain or sorrow, O; I live to-day as well’s I may, regardless of to-morrow, O.
My Father was a Farmer, Robert Burns

Read, Whistle and others @ Burns Country

Watch this great BBC documentary on Robert Burns:

In the Style of Robert Burns: Ode to a Scottish Writer

In the Style of Robert Burns:

She’s as gone as dust, brotherRobert Burns Style, Draft April 2014
If ye’ bother, man,
You’ll find her favor,
A’ changin’ wi’ another, brother-
She’s as gone as dust, man.
Try nae gither ashes,
Nor rake em’,
Try nae tell ya, man,
It’s all burnt up,
Not a page remains, brother-
Put air in yer’ hand and close it,
Don’t peak,
I’ll tell ya’, man,
It’s not there
You never had it brother-
Take it frae a jilted lover,
tae try for ‘nother, man.

Robert Burns Portrait

Robert Burns Portrait

Robert Burns was a famed Scottish writer and poet who lived during the mid till late 18th century. He was noted for catching the sympathies and feelings of the nation through his colloquial Scottish brogue and emotionally connected prose that struck a chord with his fellow kin. His poetry is considered romantic and ranged in themes from historical, pastoral and ballad like. Many pieces included mournful odes to women and squandered fortune- but a balladeer he was.  Here is an excerpt from a favorite ballad named, Whistle which is a summons of famous figures to a heroic drinking contest:
Unmatch’d at the bottle,
unconquer’d in war,
He drank his poor god-ship as deep as the sea…
Roberts life was one marked for misfortune and poor health but through his brilliance of mind his writing lives on.

Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, thro’ life I’m doom’d to wander, O, Till down my weary bones I lay in everlasting slumber, O: No view nor care, but shun whate’er might breed me pain or sorrow, O; I live to-day as well’s I may, regardless of to-morrow, O.
My Father was a Farmer, Robert Burns

Read, Whistle and others @ Burns Country

Watch this great BBC documentary on Robert Burns:

A Relic

When I see features alike yours,
I’ll stop and stare till I am jostled from there.Relic, April 2014 1
I’ll try remove the memory jogged,
When I get to this thinking-
That I could bump into you once more,
Pangs inflame my chest,
My feet swell and these legs become uneven
And those steps become unmeasured.
Certainly, you’ve never considered this,
Have you?
If you see long locks of brown,
A cherub like smile,
With red cheeks laughing,
Is there a start inside of you,
that shakes and turns to think of me?
It can be said that I still see you,
Floating through a crowd,
Always far-off,
Moving away from me,
With a blonde sheen that catches rays from the sun,
or a mouth that opens at a flitting laugh,
To reveal the whitest flax of sheep ascending,
A beautiful hill.
I pause to collect a token from what you have left.
Yes,
It stirs my heart a might tremulous,
It rattles me till I catch myself,
Blocking pedestrian traffic,
Stopping in a busy bus terminal,
Turning mid-sentence,
Staring out into nothing,Relic, April 2014 2 1
Hoping that it is you,
Who accidentally found me,
Or have searched to save me
And fill a bleakness with answer.
It can never be the case.
I’ll shuffle along,
Further away into the obscurity of the past,
To take a seat among,
Cast away relics of your mind,
Though conversely,
A relic i’ll fasten to leather,
And hang around my breast,
Like a sacred effigy,
A lesson,
An offering of penance to fate,
To have mercy on a shattered thing,
Who lost pieces of a childish naivety,
Whose pride was shorn to the quick,
Whose love burned up on a short-lived fuel.


A Jilted Lover Promotional

The Ocean No More

I have to live a life away from the Ocean,Ocean, April 2014 1 2
I’ve sold in pieces the vestments,
Worn to honor our marriage-
I’ve given the ring and all it’s luster,
The shining prize I’ve worn,
From the moment I’ve found feat,
To hold me steady,
Alas,
I’ve given that ring to another,
It hurts and grieves me sick,
That each moment I am away,
I feel the stormy lash so bitter.
No more shall I rock in your surf,
Or bask in jewels,
That sparkle all about you,
When the sun is high,Ocean, April 2014 2
No more shall I revel in your honorable tempest,
Or feign retreat from,
Your battering squall,
Alas, I am inland-
It is so damnably dry.
The only salt I shall collect,
Are the tear drops from my eye-
No more will I be with my love,
No more shall I be by her side.


A Jilted Lover Promotional

Marooned

I borrowed my uncle’s truck in some alternate vision: we drove Pacific Highway.
I couldn’t imagine the details of the location, except, cliffs and a wayward sun; you were smiling with ruby painted lips, and all that blonde hair was being blown in a California wind.
We’d wind down a road as the stars were comin’ out after that explosion of color, the sunset and I’d make love to you in the bed of that pickup truck, with it’s gate down, pulled up along side some roaring cove.
Wrapped in each other, there was no time, no limit, no future…the present was just you and I with the salt of the beach and all these lights they call stars.
You told me you loved me.
But I saw how your eyes looked westward and away, running faster than jet planes and harder to navigate than the widest ocean- something that I may never catch up to. I reckon, it’s that wild untameable, chaotic thing that pours fire all over to drown me; it’s that glittering unattainable bauble I’ll call your heart.
I sought for you with my hands and grasped at nothing, a ghost and it sent pain through my arms like ice in my veins. A terrible disquietude stole over me and infected my soul; a summer breeze makes me weak, the swell of tide brings me to my knees.
Was it the beauty of spontaneity that made childish hearts glow and did it lose its luster at the weight of mature feelings bloomed? Does the severity of love make you skiddish, so much that you force yourself to flee from feelings that might hold you responsible? For me it was as if my cup runneth over and the next was drained empty at one viscious swallow.
You’ve jumped ship and left the crew looking towards the helm.
And now there’s a mutiny as the ship founders on a muddy shoal.
I am marooned. Come back, rechart these waters, find me where I lay. Sit by my side and explain what cannot be. The eloquence of words, perhaps would be lost, I’d leave them aside for a drink of clear water. I’ve poured over what man may know of heartache and reason and have come out none the wiser.
Lest the moment be lost forever, kiss me once more…I may yet show you how I still cherish the golden illumination of your mouth as spirit may pass to spirit in the ancient custom of love.


A Jilted Lover Promotional