Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
You know the girl who always says shes fine,
Even though no one really asks.
Whos at your side, after you have left hers.
The one who wont, cant, even gently step on your heart,
When you are shattering hers.
Shes not okay.
She hasnt been, for a long, long time.
 Feb 2021 Finley in Despair
Nora
Meticulously maintaining
Impossibly feigned nonchalance,
Toying the cigarette ever so slightly
In her fingers -- careful so not
To appear as too calculated

The pariahs parade the dancefloor,
Shades of ignominy culminating in a
Prismatic rainbow, heightened by
The stale odor of ***** and body heat

Still, she stays in her perch like a silent sphynx
Waiting -- watching --
Aimlessly, but with direction, such
Carefree flamboyance below her,
A stoop to which she’d never deign

And so she watches, resigned
To fate, as much a fixture in the joint
As the gilded barstools --
The closest she can come to confronting
The fact that she is no different
Than any of the rest
After so many years, finally attempting to resume my cinematic poetry project — this one based on 1934’s WONDERBAR, as easily inferred
 Feb 2021 Finley in Despair
Nora
Morning caresses my lips
With a squalid kiss -- the taste of last
Night’s stale liquor, a greeting most
Usual and unwelcome all the same.
Sated beyond means, I still am
Stricken by thirst, dry lips parting in
Consternation, heavy hands
Fumble aimlessly for old reliable, that
****** bottle of advil that may as well
Have its name etched in my dresser drawer
The morning after may be ripe with regret,
Hazy recollections draped in uncertainties --
But at least one thing remains surefire and
Constant --

Thump -- clank
My head, the door, my achy feet
Taking their first apprehensive steps
Into their habitual walk of shame
The mirror salutes me with the
Visage of a woman worn, tired and wildly aged --
There’s no way we’re the same person
Or are we?
Foot steps upon the height of a hill
a mole down a lane in just a mile
as I escape in the dense of the night
with each step traced close to yours

If the midline was a graced venture
would the sparkle fade and frown?
would the lonely rainy day awash?
would the wonder grow in thunder?

As the shadow get displaced in hues
supposedly trapped inside neat seams each a fixture of unknown secrets
set in unfounded, yet searchable folds

If such a time comes, my dearest
My embrace will be coat you wear
all the words of this love will live
and carry us home to our bed
It's almost midnight and the bars are
  throbbing like my first time but they
  keep going strong 'til we can hardly
  stand at 4am and get White Castles.

  I always hope for an angel to save
  me by closing time. The lights never
  dim and the noise is constant in NYC.
  Angels are scarce and life is cheap.
  
  Maybe she'd save me from myself and
  the land mines I always seek for me.
  Maybe she'd take me to the promised land
  of milk and honey and sweet lasting love.
Listen to all the unrest
What if they all knew
The universe
Is trying to talk us through

You better learn to listen
And expand your beliefs
There’s no rest for the wicked
And
Religions can be a thief

Suffer and slumber
Or wake up and fly
There’s much more
Than flesh on the line!
Next page