#140
Double lotus sweet balm
i rubbed my temples
protected my eyes
discomfort of body
euphoria of soul,
i looked for the stars
but the heat had even had them
hiding in the shade,
the sands, far more uninviting
then i remembered.
All is well,
under the blessings of a full moon.
#141
My friend.
Why does that sweet phrase
set me to alaram
every time it’s utter?
No fear of danger
just a flare of caution.
i just can’t seem to remember
a single instance where a true friend
felt the need to begin a conversation
by reminding me that i am
in fact that.
#142
i hold a fear of apartments,
despite awe and marvel
in architectural artistry,
why do we strive
for these small containers?
For is that not the greatest sin?
To contain oneself?
#143
No pen shall touch to paper
until my feet kick the dust,
until i’ve dead eyed the Sphinx,
there is a tremendous difference
in simply being here,
as i suppose there always is
with everything else.
#144
There’s a mosaic on my windowsill
as i daydream
my afternoon away.
Dreaming of her conversations,
and my arms around her as we lay awake.
How come one moment is never enough?
Why can’t i feel touch through memory
like i can hear her laugh?
Have you thought of me recently?
Do i wish too much?
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write