Poetry

‘Afar’ and other poems

By: Shontay Luna

Afar

Did you glance upon me,
my most sweet love?
Adoring you from afar,
heart laden with
torturous longing.
The distance apart
no match
for the desire my
heart holds;
how a mere glance
upon you brings me
such joy. And yet I know
you’ve never seen me.
But that’s what makes you
all the more handsome.
With no eyes upon me,
there is no room for
recoil and rejection.
This way it is perfect,
you are perfect and as
long as I can watch
you without pause,
then so am I.

###

Blue Eyed Bandit

He enters the pueblo at dusk,
gaze containing spheres of
azure. That contrast with
the orange and gold of twilight.
He’s a pillar draped in midnight hue.
From his hat to the well-worn boots
that hold secrets involving bounty
and blood.

The lone street is a dirt path paved
in ferocity and standoffs.
Landmarks are bullets that
strayed and stayed.
Pegged into the posts of rickety
storefronts. The Bandit is
weary and famished.

His only search
now is for vittles,
slumber and
solitude. Though,
should trouble come
knocking, he’ll
greet it with
a frigid stare.
And a loaded
six shooter.

###

For The Instagram Photo (T.R.)

I. It was a Sunday morning,
soon to be unlike any other.
Brightness seeped in past curtains
that have never known the sides
of the window. I’d just gotten up,
sitting on the corner as I scrolled
and found the photo. Accompanied
by the sound of the turned up
television, I slid off in shock.
To the awaiting floor below.

II. It kept sneaking up on my feed
as I tried in vain to get over it. The
black jacket with zippers at sleeves’
edge. Hood gracing the back while
a watch, resting casually on the wrist,
loosely held it. Gaze directly at the
camera, eyes penetrating the lens.
Assaulting the viewer with such
direct presence. And whenever it
appeared, I forgot to how breathe.

III. After repeated viewings,
which I can no longer recall
if they were with my intent
or that of others, yes, I could
remember to breathe. But with
overly conscious amounts of
effort. That is reminiscent of
Darth Vader. In a heavy
breathing competition.

Categories: Poetry

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