I am excited to introduce you to an amazing poet named Shontay Luna from Chicago, Illinois! Shontay’s work is filled with wonderful imagery, taking the reader on an emotional journey through thoughtful interpretation.

*At The End Of The Day*

I want a gorgeous man when I get home
from a long day, wearing nothing but his
skin and a smile as he automatically pours
me a drink. Putting in so much ice, I’m
reminded of igloos. Containing so much
alcohol,it should accompanied with a ball of
cotton. A concoction of spiked, rebellious
nectar that I eagerly await to partake in. To
forget the heat simmering the city outside
where I passed people frying eggs AND
bacon on the sidewalk. As the beverage
storms it’s way through the desert of my
mouth, it removes from me the day’s events
as well as all reason. A proximate escape
from the myriad of obligations that never ceased.
Handing me another container of soft ambrosia,
my eyes never leave his, the entirety of it’s contents
travelling down and away.

********

Time Is

Time is a mad

songbird, skipping

through lifetimes

when backs are

turned. The passing

can be quick; quicker

than the fastest

outlaw. Within a

blink, he’ll be gone.

Like a songbird,

whistling as he

rides into the sunset.

With bags of gold

topped with heated

pistols. The whispers

of townsfolk emerging

into screams upon the

dawn. Tick tock of the

clock a tap dance on the

brain, as one finale ends

but another begins.

Shontay Luna lives in the Midwest with a mix of pens, paper and Sons of Anarchy’s Juan Carlos “Juice” Ortiz fanfiction fantasies. A part-time public service worker by day, her poems have appeared in WestWard Quarterly, The Listening Eye, Text Power Telling, Umbrella Factory Magazine, Canyon Voices, Toasted Cheese, The Beatnik Cowboy and The Insurgence, among others. The author of four chapbooks of poetry, ‘The Goddess Journal’ is themed with puzzles and affirmations to elevate feminine self-esteem. Another is ‘To James & Sarah with Love’ - a Silent Generation slang memorial to her paternal grandparents. Shontay’s Instagram handle is @shontay_luna.

His name was John. He was a quiet man.He cared not about living according to the precepts of humanity. He preferred life to be simple, For in simplicity he saw grandeur.

When he spoke, his voice was meek; Most times others ignored his unassuming nature. His peacefulness was seen as weakness, His generosity a flaw of the human condition.

Quietly he walked through life in the most ordinary way. The corridors he passed on his journeys were well populated Though he was hardly noticed; It was as if he hadn't walked them at all.

When he spoke his voice was but a whisper; A breeze passing by the others who were near. His words fell silently around them, And they scarcely took the time to even glance his way.

A select few did notice his passing; They stopped to smile and nod at his peaceful candor. After he had spoken, their hearts soared with new life, For they saw John's beautiful nature, and intelligence.

As humanity swarmed around him, Rushing and darting to keep pace with the craziness that society expects, John noticed the stars in the sky and the warm summer breeze. He felt the green grass beneath his feet and warmth of the sun on his face.

Children surrounded him and listened to him speak, Laughing and smiling at the stories that he skillfully told, Just as a spider spins a beautiful, glistening web, Were his observations of life and life's journeys.

He always stopped to feed the birds and to watch the butterflies Flit through the air like colorful, miniature kites; His day was complete when he had the opportunity To pet a neighbor's dog or feed a squirrel in the park.

John appeared to be elusive, but that was only because Everyone around him was too busy to stop for a moment; To meet as one heart to another, to find a place Of commonality or interests shared.

“He's different,” they would say. “Too quiet. A bit off.” He heard their comments but it didn't bother him. He knew what was truly important. “They must only learn,” he thought quietly in his head.

He remembered the gunshots in the war, His friends dying around him; his best friend Pleading as he bled to death in his arms, “Tell my son I love him.”

John knew life was brief. He valued the things That others took for granted; things like Peace; happiness; soft, puffy clouds in the sky, A quiet place to sleep at night. The hug of a child.

And he knew their indifference was not deliberate, It was just that they hadn't known what he had known: That life was a gift, it was not something to be taken for granted; And that its purpose was to give love to others;

Even if they didn't understand why it was being given, Or what they were supposed to do with it once they received it. Love's grand purpose would make itself known at just the right time, In just the right place with just the right people with absolute perfection.

And that, John knew, was all that really mattered.