Careful as you go

image

A time will come,
When you don’t even,
Own your own body,

On the side of the road,

A full breakdown not a common,
Puncture,

Leave your heart, it’s broken,
Total mechanical checkmate.

What will you do?

Trust what you have given?
Love, a blue opinion?

You have only what you spent.

You think you can ride your habits,
You should be fine,

It’s just suddenly inoperable.

Laugh,
Your soul no longer requires a fading heart.

-evocative short poetry-

747

Boeing-747-8

 

He is munching on nuts,
vigorously,

Utilising the muscles he has.

He has wonderful eyes,
Hawk eyes,

Wide set and is,
Now eating a banana with a plastic spoon.

We both have motioned for a waiter.

He is masticating on a blob of Almond paste that he,
Has scooped from the glass jar in the,

Center of the table,
With his middle finger,

Nibbling like a squirrel,

And there is something askew,
As he rushes,

To the aid of a woman carrying,
Four heavy bags.

He leaves his own where it is,
Unattended.

I wonder if he’s on drugs, or
Just a tourist,

High on Africa,
A white man free to do as he pleases.

I wonder why the other white man on the table next to ours,
First asked him to mind his bags,

Whilst he used the toilet,
And never came back.

Maybe I’m reading too much into it,
But,

I am a black man preparing to fly, and
Have been informed about bags,

Left unattended.

 

-evocative short poetry

Whoosh!

short poetry, new, fresh, cityscape, mood, lighting, Hopper, painting,

 

Catch the fragrance on the suit,
Of the man in the queue in front of you,

Follow the creases as he sits,
Right up to his face,
This time, and notice,

Blue eyes, moustache,
Hair peeking out from under stiff collar,
The man is immediately the foreigner,

Hurling as he is,
The prospect that,
He may ask you to track his trajectory,

Through town, this
City of the big shoulders and,
Lost in the words of the author you are reading,

Compel you to divert your own,
Down the street,

So that you meet,
At the bar,

Where he electrifies his,
Breath with tobacco,

And you accelerate your own,
To find,

That this all happened yesterday, whoosh

Just yesterday you fell in love.

 

photo – Nighthawks by Edward Hopper on Wikipedialinux hosting

evocative short poetry – words move