contributor
luna
poet — two pieces
Two poems.
i
4 AM Kismet
wheel of fortune period stains
steady your predictions
voyeuristic thoughts and prayers
digital smoke signals
breadcrumbs for the birds
horny wistfulness
reaching in towards the void
pick me pick me pick me
an echo chamber of sentiments
fit for a winner and a loser
don't read too much into anything these days
laboring underneath delusion to find a silver lining
nothing is true unless spoken with your chest
a screen of pretenses
keeps the beating heart behind
we live in the real world now
alive, messy, unseen
start acting like you mean it
and sometimes fate will intervene
· · ·
ii
Poems
Poemsabout the plastic cubes collecting dust on my vanity
No contact
How I've been getting back to noticing everything beyond the confines of my mind
How my hands have been busy making friends with human, clay, and soil:
under the southern sky various fingers of colors and shapes work with me to pick petal and leaf
fresh lemon balm
dried tobacco
roses, pink white and somewhere in between
names exchanged, destinations pinned on the maps of existence
·
Poemsabout how life has felt restful in a way I can't seem to find back in apartment 102 in Oakland, CA
How I've listened to the names calling out to me
The two versions of myself back in Frisco or in New Orleans
finding freedom of perspective out by the bayou
sweat and rose water dripping down my neck
vitex trees and red roses in Crescent park
·
Poemsabout how my gaze returns back to the dust covered plastic cubes resting upon my vanity
I begin to think of you
prescribing symbolic gesture or some platitude of conclusion
to this steady moment
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