There are times I long for her
My beautiful mount
Sitting atop a valley
Of glass castles and rivers thrice
The craving for a slice
From the corner pizza shop
Cheap and nearly sauceless
But something uniquely fine
Broken sidewalks and sounds of car horns
Chorus of the city
On a canvas of concrete
With tree lines of artificial synchronicity
That special language spoken
By locals with such distinction
Is the rhythm of a gritty culture
But exudes a welcoming to all
Her greatness is in her simplicity
Her beauty in her modest core
To walk her streets is to love her
From head down to your feet
About the Creator
Jason A
Writer, photographer and graphic design enthusiast with a professional background in journalism, poetry, e-books, model photography, portrait photography, arts education and more.
Delicious Nightmares
There is nothing novel in the observation that a good cinema experience is akin to a waking dream. We sit in darkness and become enveloped in a world of images that we piece together to form a narrative. Sometimes the images overpower us and we struggle with the paralysis of a nightmare. And then the lights come back up and we take a breath to remember it was not real, we were not in that car crash, we were not in a fight, we were not a lover being romanced. And we need a moment between the last credit and the real world to gather our thoughts to find meaning in what we have seen.
By Rachel Robbins2 days ago in Writers
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.