I write because
the wind blows
I paint where
the heart goes
and in between
these two tangled
lovers,
my solitude
composed.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Clark Young on Unsplash
#Poetry #Micropoem #Solitude #Artist

I write because
the wind blows
I paint where
the heart goes
and in between
these two tangled
lovers,
my solitude
composed.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Clark Young on Unsplash
#Poetry #Micropoem #Solitude #Artist

I don’t think she knows this peace
It comes with the sitting.
The solace, the silence speaks
Days of droning about, no end to celebrate
I search for refuge. It comes at the end of
a boredom that strangles my day. Aghast in
delight at something new, shiny. A golden
gem of the night. Glows in solitude. Shines
a contrasting light, a sharp shadow
in bold relief. Scorned upon my brow. Peace
delivers a solace, a contentment at my doorstep.
She knows nothing of this.
This comes with the cracks, the splinters in
ankles and the sharp shards of ancient bone.
A tattering, worn like thistles and thorns. Peace
delivered in silence, a throne at my door.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Photo by Mitchell Griest on Unsplash
#Poetry #freestylepoetry #Verse #Meditation

Waiting for this summer heat
To break
The peace,
the serenity hanging thick in the night
As the heat swallows the moon
Cradling the lake with its heavy weight
I stare into the dark blue horizon
As Serenity Lake consoles the moon
caressing it into its seasonal summer slumber
the white haze gently lifts from it’s surface, like a slow drip
backwards into an abyss of cockles and moss; and those funny green things
Unveiling the milky white gauze that covers the black-blue dawn
begging for the rise and release of this thick Phlegm, that glues itself to the night,
Adhering to, and pulling the moon, ever so slightly, yet tightly suspended;
held, just a breath above the mouth of the lake
Teasing the silence- Taunting the serenity,
the lake shimmers-flickers and shines
… as the golden white glow of the moon
hangs in the sky like a ripe melon ball;
heavy, burdened, weighted
and ready for its daily plucking.
The serenity shocked, ripped violently
out of the dry vaporous pools of my eyes.
I beg for serenity to return and serenade me into my sweet
and much needed sleep.
But the lake, this sweet Serenity Lake
just stares back at me laughing silently
as I weep.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
Written in response to Sue Vincent’s weekly photo prompt
For visually challenged writers, the image shows a blue-lit landscape, land and calm water mirroring the cloudy, silver-lit sky.