Tag: becoming a writer

Life is a Journey

Tara A. Lesko - Writer

If that is the case, I need to stop

handing out free boarding passes

to the flights of my mind.

There’s no more room

in my Samsonite soul,

bursting at the seams

with ripped kimonos,

cheap espresso stained

handwritten pages with

the legibility of a tired child,

the scent of cigarettes

and hot hard liquor.

Maybe I should walk the miles

instead of dream them,

with only a backpack full

of empty pages, a grey hoodie,

and a bottle of blackberry Merlot

with only a thin layer of condensation

on its body.

Available at http://www.etsy.com/shop/TheForgottenWord

Being Human

Tara A. Lesko - Writer

Being human, according to Hinduism, means we have energy wheels, chakras that start at our asses and end in our hopefully enlightened minds, light bursting through our skulls. All of these wheels need to turn with synchronicity in order for us to feel balanced or connected. But humans have been box-centered for so long. Everything is box-shaped – our technology, our desks and tables, the gifts we give and receive. Ladies, even our female parts are called boxes. So maybe our cores look more like long locomotives with square-shaped wheels, just like the train on the Island of Misfit Toys. There’s strength and purpose, we can push ourselves forward, and there will always be at least one person who will love us. But we’re round pegs trying to squeeze into square holes

Muses 10 through 18

Tara A. Lesko - Writer

Muse 10 allows 

for that amazing voice 

in the shower. 

11 helps that same voice 

bounce beautifully 

off gravestones. 

Muse 12 dries your eyes 

after a too-big glob of wasabi 

or a too-hot shot of saki. 

13 is the impossibly long wait 

for coffee in the morning 

that makes you miss the multicar 

pile-up on the interstate. 

She’s the extra dead rose 

hidden in his “forgive me” dozen.

14 gives you the years 

you get with your dog or grandparents.

15 hits you with thirteen’s thorns 

for wasting that time. 

16 builds up your walls 

and shapes your wrecking balls 

that crumble them. 

17 helps break the news gently 

when all you want is to be alone. 

18 pummels you with sixteen’s wrecking ball

when you think you need permission.