Tag: attention

Posted in art, beauty, poety, writing

The True Orchid

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The True Orchid I walked right past it the first time— hidden behind the ones begging for eyes like supermodels, asking for attention in the spotlight. The plaque at the entrance of the exhibit talked about the rarities of these flowers, but as I moseyed through by myself I felt underwhelmed. It was only on my second time around the room, that I caught the hint of pink peeking out from behind a white array, an interruption of the purity surrounding. I stopped walking, wishing I could step off the path and get a closer look at the most intriguing orchid in the room, the one hiding its splendor, the one that so many people missed.

I don’t often write about flowers. Though I love nature, I never feel particularly inspired by it. However, there was something about this experience today that grabbed me. It was as if the hiding orchid had an emotion, or at least scratched at the emotions I was feeling in that moment. I’m still not even sure what that flower looked like, recessed off the pathway, but by far it was my favorite one today.

If you’re wondering, the exhibit is at the Missouri Botanical Gardens in St. Louis. It’s a beautiful and historically significant place that I highly recommend you visit.

Good night lovelies!

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Grocery Store

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Grocery Store I lived alone for three months in a new city, didn’t know a soul. Every day I’d walk a mile to the grocery store, spend twenty minutes deciding which vegan cookie to buy and walk back. Sometimes it was Starbucks or the farmer’s market in Studio City. Or drive to Santa Monica to buy my cookie at a bakery and drive back to what I called home. Once it was a restaurant and I walked three miles in the smog to get there. I never cried in those three months. It’s only now, years later, when I go to the grocery store alone that the sadness shows. Maybe it’s the guilt of all those cookies piled up on my thighs, the leftovers of a time not quite forgotten or maybe it’s that I didn’t expect the loneliness to last.

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Exchanged Digits

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Exchanged Digits At the very least I felt seen. Out of everyone at Whole foods he wanted to hear my voice, to uncover the mysteries of the girl in the off-white blouse and ripped skinny jeans. For a sliver of our timelines we aligned, syncing over groceries, drifting askew just days later, a dinner of hello and goodbye, departing the other’s eye like two cars turning opposite directions at a stop light. At the very least he’d honked at me, acknowledged my skyline, allowed my existence.

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Over There

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Over there The chair begs for a story: a mischievous child sentenced to time-out, a mother resting, taking her shoes off, a lover staring from across the room. The invisible silhouettes haunt its house— the corner of the basement by the painting— a lonely space void of narrative. But maybe that is the story.

Every chair deserves a story. Cheers to Saturdays.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

Visibility

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Visibility Someone must have seen me sitting there, spitting cherry seeds into a plastic baggie, shoes off, cross legged, and glistening in the thickness of St. Louis humidity. I laid down on the quilt protecting my clothes from grass stains and pulled a book from my purse. I estimated I could read about a chapter before the next band started their set. I tuned out the cacophony of intoxicated friends, the thousands of couples and families and besties camped out on the lawn of the amphitheater. I muted their chatter as if dialing down the volume in my car, driving my attention anywhere I wanted, sneaking peaks at the sky over the rim of my book, not caring how many people didn’t see me lying there, alone at a concert at peace with my own ego, so nonchalant in my solitude, that the issue of visibility floated away with every lyric and every movement and every heartbeat of freedom screamed from the silence of no one beside me.

Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

Party Trick

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Party Trick It was the way he played the guitar, his eyes closing, savoring the notes like peanut butter cups, pleasure singing in his fingertips licked to perfection in the bliss of the moment. I noticed how she’d stare, as intoxicated with his passion as he was with that instrument, a recognizable love that softened both their faces, she watching his pleasure in equal measure. She appreciated his elemental connection, accepted his attention diverted to his potential, chasing what could be, the greater than, the something more that guided his dedication. He loved that guitar, an infatuation that trumped her presence, his undeniable glory that blinded her from accepting that maybe she deserved someone who’d let her sing along. I’ve been thinking about love lately–if you couldn’t tell from most of the poems decorating the past several months on here–and in thinking about love I’ve been thinking about the “one.” Who is that person that we fall for and why? Why do we rarely end up with the person we grew up describing as our ideal partner? Why does unrequited love exist? You’d think if you feel that strong of a pull towards someone that they’d feel it back. It’s chemistry, right? Pure biology. But for whatever reason, it doesn’t always work that way, but maybe, just maybe, there’s a reason.

This poem goes out to my friend Cameron.

Have a great weekend!

–Leanne Rebecca

 

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Overlooked

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Overlooked I wore a pearl necklace to feel pretty. I wanted the attention, for the guy making my latte to look twice, for my coworker to shoot me a jealous glare, for a young girl to see me with envy gleaming in her eyes and think someday I want to be her. I wanted to taste affection’s dessert, the outpouring of desire in salivating mouths, to be the chocolate mousse that causes moans, irresistible. But all they saw was the necklace. I like your necklace. What a gorgeous necklace. They saw the chocolate shavings decorating the mousse, snacked on the garnish like kids sneaking a finger full of icing from the cake. They saw pearls on a mannequin and finished their window shopping with a cookie from the food court.

Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

Sound

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Sound

Posted in art, poetry, writing

The Untruth in the True Story

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The Untruth in the True Story

Posted in art, poetry, writing

The Big If

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The Big If

Posted in art, Music, poetry, twenty one pilots, writing

Trees

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TreesToday’s poem is inspired by the Twenty One Pilots song with the same title, “Trees.” Their version forces me to reflect on the exact emotions I fight to hide from contemplation, but in that reflection I find the purpose to write my own verse and expel the words that imprison my confidence.

…and if you can figure out what that means, you win 10 points!

Check back every Saturday for a new poem named after a Twenty One Pilots track and as always, check out their music below!

 

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Smorgasbord

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Smorgasbord