Poetry

War paint

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bronzed and blushing

no visible imperfections

doesn’t look a day over twenty five

chiseled cheeks

giving authoritarian aura

fierce eyes

like a power suit

on a celebrity lawyer

everyone knows that she is not to be crossed

covering up blemishes

freckles on her nose

round doe like eyes

signs of countless sleepless nights

each day she puts on her war paint

giving the semblance of a warrior

hiding her unassuming soul

 

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nocturnal

sky turns from navy

to an electric blue

broken by an orb of pink

growing slowly

over the Mississippi

A time not seen by many

when the day seems to slow

then speed up again

A man rides alone on his bicycle

weighed down by goods

from the corner 24 hour mart

a spider spins her web

invisibly in the corner of my porch

the air weighs heavy

alluding to the heat to come

a rare silence lulls over

the normally bustling street

broken only by the first birds chirping

and a siren perhaps miles away

as the world wakes up

i drink my tea to relax

smoke the last cigarette of the day

unable to sleep when the world is dark

finally able to lie down and let go

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rental lifestyle

moving-boxes-top-photo

It is time

to pack up my things

go through my closet

throw out stuff I don’t need

or have even looked at

since the last time I moved

box up the clutter and memories

label every box

“kitchen, bathroom, bedroom”

leave behind this place

our temporary home

of two years

to live at another temporary home

for an undetermined amount of years

rental lifestyle

always moving up, adding bedrooms

losing roommates

adding more things we don’t need

living the dream