Urban Legend
Around me, death. I feel it in the crusted soil and smell it in the lost air. It braids through my hair and buries itself in my porcelain skin.
The wind comes in from the East and unveils urbanity. There is this noise in the city. It cracks the black strip of tar that winds into horizon. I watch the sunset eat the earth and the mountains don cloud.
I stand in isolation and look toward the sea. Past the last ghost building, a stretch of blue slashes through the sky. Urban wind nestles between my shoulder blades. I am concrete pierced with pipe; a book without a spine; stories scattered on current.
The homeless don their cultural colors. The strawflower plants seed in unforgiving soil and blooms. Ice kisses my skin all over strawberry. I breathe deep the memory of what was and taste what is to come.
Photo by Mathilde Langevin
Dawn Pisturino
Such powerful images, Layla!
M Jay Dixit
So creative, loved all the images. The ending is too good!!
Aspen Hite
Every line made it better and better. I couldn’t pick a favorite until I got to the last one and that was the one that really struck a chord with me: “I breathe deep the memory of what was and taste what is to come.”
Beautifully written! 💜
Gabriela Marie Milton
Beautiful piece.
xoxo
Jeff Flesch
“I am concrete pierced with pipe; a book without a spine; stories scattered on current.” Having lived most of my life in urban centers, your beautiful words bring a melancholic reality to a life lived in between tall buildings, cars and people bustling to and fro, and a diverse cultural portfolio, both the beautiful and the harrowing. A gorgeous pierce, Jaya!
Jaya Avendel
Thank you for this amazing comment, Jeff!
Eugenia
A masterful piece, Jaya! Your use of imagery is stunning.
Keep Calm & Drink Coffee
Looking towards the sea is always a cure for me, although the thought of a book without a back has made me concrete the idea of suffering between the shoulder blades.
THANKS Jaya!
Jaya Avendel
Thank you kindly, Claudia!
Keep Calm & Drink Coffee
<3
haoyando
Love your book without a spine and those scattered stories. I feel like I am reading them right now…
Jacqui Murray
There’s a lot to think about here, Jaya. Life always ends in death, doesn’t it.
D. Wallace Peach
Cities will come and go, but nature will endure. I love the “between” of your poem, Jaya. Lovely.
Jaya Avendel
Thank you so much, Diana!
Daphny Aqua
What a masterpiece this one is Jaya, loving the imagery of it. ❤️
Jaya Avendel
Thank you, Daphny!
paeansunplugged
Jaya, the imagery is striking and creates a feeling of disquiet, as death should!
Nancy Richy
Jaya, your words alone create a symphony; no music necessary 🌹
Jaya Avendel
Thank you much, Nancy!
SelmaMartin
So beautiful, Jaya. TY
Ingrid
Masterful use of imagery here, Jaya, with a powerful current of energy running through it!
Jaya Avendel
Thank you deeply, Ingrid!
Cindy Georgakas
gorgeous imagery Jaya. Love these lines.
” a stretch of blue slashes through the sky. Urban wind nestles between my shoulder blades. I am concrete pierced with pipe; a book without a spine; stories scattered on current.”😇😇
Jaya Avendel
Thank you for sharing your favorite lines, Cindy!
Cindy Georgakas
You’re so welcome Jaya!
😘💕
Michele Lee
Jaya, your words make even death sound beautiful. I love all of it, of course, but the last stanza took my breath away. 🍓
Jaya Avendel
Thank you deeply, Michele! I always love your reflections.
Michele Lee
🥰
Michele Lee
😊🤗