Trembliiing

She notiiiced the tremors were getttting worse

This terrrrified her

She had always relied on her intelllligence

Yet this requiiired her hands to work

After all, for 25 years she has writttten for a liviiing

But after her BMW kissssed a freight truck last November

Before that delightful triiip to Italy and France

To write about love and wiiine and her passion for hiiigh fashion

She had to hiiire an editor.

~Just L (September 28, 2018)

Inspiring Art

She appeared in the doorway as if the wind had blown her onto my blank canvas all at once in full color. Soaked from rain’s song. Shaking her head and laughing wildly. She was unaware of her crackling impact on the still inside air. Surprisingly refreshing like a summer storm. Embracing Nature. Inspiring art.

~Just L (June 25, 2018)

Reflection

When we look out on the world;
We see what is inside of us.

I see beauty;
Largely kindness;
So much love;
And mindfulness.

Not jealousy:
Rarely sadness;
Never bitter;
All gratefulness.

~Just L (February 22, 2017)

#yelapa #yelapalife #mexico #justlpoetry #poetry #instapoetry

Author’s Note: See my “About” page. Follow me on Instagram.

I am Not a Tourist Destination

Please don’t arrive as a tourist;
I’m not interested in a day use pass.
No overnight camping allowed;
I don’t care to be tomorrow’s trash.
Of course, I enjoy tropical vacations in exotic locations;
Yet, I prefer the finer things built to last.
A lifetime of quiet moments and intimate adventures;
With one bold affirmation, “You are my ride or die match.”

~Just L (Originally penned, November 5, 2016)

E’er Wooing Me Back

I have so many lovers.
It is hard to keep track.
France, Italy, Mexico, Belize;
E’er wooing me back.

Some are as warm as the sun.
A few as cool as the sea breeze.
Others are marble statues.
More of a tease.

A buffet of delight.
They each have their taste.
Spicy as Indian cardamom.
Soft as Venetian lace.

I have so many lovers.
I will never lack.
Memories and wanderlust;
E’er wooing me back.

~Just L (January 27, 2018)

Love Has No Ethnicity

Yesterday, at SFO, while waiting for my daughter to clear customs, a man with a luggage cart stacked with clear-tape wrapped luggage, approached me and asked if he could use my phone to make a call to his wife. He showed me the handwritten number (I recognized it as a Bay Area phone number) written in the back of a small day planner. Perhaps it was the fact the number started with 526-, the same as the landline that my parents have had for 50 years, or perhaps it was his aged, but kind face; nevertheless, I dropped my “stranger danger,” and I dialed the number and handed him the phone. I could not understand a word they were saying but I recognized JOY. After a short exchange he hung up the phone, thanked me, and handing it back said tearfully, “I have just arrived from Pakistan!” “Well, welcome to America,” I replied. He asked me to please direct him to the exit. He practically skipped away – belying his age – his salwar kameez waving behind him.

A reminder that sometimes we simply want the same things.

~Just L (November 10, 2017)