Charmful Deceit

By:: Sarah Luscombe

Charm-full of Deceit

Charmful Deceit

By:: Sarah Luscombe

:: Dedicated to friends and family who have helped me survive Junior year. :)

1

She delicately wraps her lanky armsAround his stuff lower back.Her skin, soft and paleThe warm sun rays touch them for the first time in monthsIn anticipation, her muscles tense and she finds herselfPulling him closerA jolt. Thrustful movement.The ever-present tension releases.Intensely fixated on each otherAnd obliviousTo the Onlookers,The Smell of sun-dried tomatoesLingering on their Breath from the café,And the Flash of the camera.Yet, amidst the spotlight they bothFeel out of their element.Seeking comfort in the closenessOf each other’s bodies.He leans in towards her.His dark chocolate locks graze over her foreheadAnd dimples are revealed from his awkward smirkHe does not dare to lock eyes.She dares to do so much more.

Fill Our Empty Bellies

2

love twists the icetray twice

some space betweenintricate weavingsOf lace

fragile and dependentfrozen figures ofcrystal distort anddimensionalize my visionand it will changewith the season

like sickly cotton candy thatlacks color, yet makes your mouth water

3

Hypnotize the Audience

The tires screech like the cry of the Wicked WitchYou can’t hear.The door slams shut like a mouse trap.You can’t hear.The sidewalk sets the stage.

His hands intertwined with mine, are numb.His eyes can’t tell superficial from superspecialThe humidity is stagnant and I move in slow mo-tionHeat melts ice-cream on the pavement

Someone taught you how to play hop-scotchSomeone trained you the wrong wayMeanwhile he pours his heart into mineBut for a motive all his ownThis is what it means to deceive

4

The gentle strength of trees whisperto me be still

Ominous clouds fadeinto darknessI am alone

As I gaze upon mountainsI am humbled

I risewith the suninto darkness

A moment of claritylingers like fog

Wintry wind pierces my skinlike a dagger to my heart

Each drop of rainis a touch of intangible beauty

Far at the bottomwith each coming summer rainthe well leaks deeper

Translucent waves wash away the evidence

The light of a fireflyon a humid summer nightis fleeting

Time is precious a chick will leave his motherbirdI will leave you

Misty morningthe creatures of the oceanare in their glory

Trickle, trickledrop, droppuddle, splash, mop

Embraced in your armsand a blanket of starsthe grass is wet

Her hair grows longershe knows with each coming springshe will cut him short

5

The trees sway in the windand I cant help to thinkwhat I wonderful place I am in

I wish the breezewould carry meout to sea

The warmth of death sitsupon the shoulders of thosewho yet still live on

Peaceful slumbermoonlit skyby and by and by...

Late night, hot bathan attempt at drowning away the day

Vines grow all aroundyou should feel luckythat they can’t use doorknobs

Some trees are planted to become deep-rootedothers die with the season

Screeching tiresblinded by headlightsyou crossed the line

As dorothy says,“There’s no place like home”but she doesn’t know my home

Tall grasssways in the breeze trampled by the children

Particles of dustgather with timeon my shiny new toy

The man in the moonis the closest thing I know to god

My footprints sink into the sandwaiting to be rescued

A child’s eyes sparkle of innocence as a tear falls from mine

The delicate details of a spider’s webswallowed me whole

6

Vivacious Viola

My musical mother meets manyEntertainers due to her profession,Her encounters are uniqueAs she sits in her section on stageDressed as though she is attending a funeral

From the highest balcony of the Cannon Performing Arts CenterShe is a black ambiguous figure of movement and rhythmAssuming the identity of her instrument, a ViolistPlaying both melodies and harmoniesA significant part of a greater whole

First and foremost, she is my motherComing home at night with stories for the familyGigs and showbiz, rehearsals and concertsMy mother is in her element

Tonight’s performer is vivacious and versatileOn and off stage, his presence cannot be ignoredHarry Connick Jr., adored by allMusician, actor, comedian, performer

Enter stage left,Fresh off the tour busGym shorts and a baseball cap for this rehearsalSurprisingly average in appearance

7

Now it is opening night,Stage lights dim from a hungry yellowTo a luminous periwinkle glowMy mother fades into the shadowsAs Harry Connick Jr. struts out on stage wearing a pin-striped suitAnd a pasted on smile, his cheekbones radiate in the spotlight

The audience catches a glimpse of his oceanic eyesLike blue lasers beamingHis hands are fleshy extensions of the piano keysThe audience is wooed but my mother remains com-posedAs her eyes are fixated on the sheet music

But now the after partyThe catered chef prepares pasta on commandMy mother, amongst the fascinated onlookers laughsAs Harry Connick Jr. cracks a joke about hisTwo-a-day workout routine, which keeps his middle-agedPhysique looking so fresh and so clean, clean

My mother can’t help but wonderIf maybe it has something to do withHim putting carrotsOne by oneThrough a juice maker

8

Time Machine

We glide down the stairwellHim and I – I and himHand in handDressed in our very best evening attireAnxiously awaiting to be seated where we willSpoonful by spoonful Fill our bellies with the finest cuisine on the ship,A replica of the TitanicAnd even though we are middle classWe feel like the king and queen of the worldAs the string quartet sets the rhythm of our stepsMozart’s K156 G Major MinuetThe host pulls out my chair, yet I decline the offerAs I long to enter a time machineAnd twirl about the ballroom with myBeautiful man by my side;My dress drapes the crème-colored marble floors,And as I dance the pink silk of my dress becomes parachute-likeAnd I gracefully land upon the ground as he helps meReach my feet againAnd the waiter approachesAnd so does realityThe music fades into the distanceand it feels as thoughThe shipissinking –Nearer,My God,To Thee.

9

Kiss It All Better

We're hunting aliens, my little sister

Doesn't like this game

because the aliens always kill her.

Aliens don't like girls!

I take a sip of my moon juice

and Tommy gets mad, "That's the alien poison!"

He tosses a moon rock at me and laughs.

I run after him but I trip on a crater.

I run inside and try not to cry

because Daddy says, "Big boys don't cry."

Little sister cries because she's a baby.

Mommy puts a Looney Tunes band-aid on my knee,

they're my favorite,

and kisses it all better.

Now I get to go outside and show Tommy,

his mom only buys brown band-aids.

10

Let it Wane

My hollow eyes trace the rhythmical curves of the horizon

Like the ride of a roller coaster,

Yet ahead I view a panorama, divided horizontally

In two parts,

Exhibiting a distinct separation of life and death.

The sensual silhouette of the mountains in the distance

Lures me into its dark abyss. The arrangement of clouds

Resemble continents and form a map in the sky.

I use the flesh of my fingertips to trace a route

To the heavens.

With my needle and thread I carefully

Weave in and around the intricate edges of these

Mysterious figures,

'Till i run out of string, fantasizing about

What lies beyond the fire. Ocean currents echo

In the wispy clouds strewn across the membrane

Which encloses this habitat, fragile and innocent.

The sharp light pierces my pupils as I gaze longingly

To capture what's left of

This fleeting memory.

11

Solitude

an ant

a blade of grass

a girl with a pink sweater and hairband

walks by and glares at me.

Madison awakes saying,

"Hey look, good looking shirtless men, and one white boy.”

I run my hands through my hair

and pull out a strand.

Momentary eclipse.

12

Faux Fashion Glasses

The crisp edge of your slicked back golden brown hair reaches the height of six foot five. Beneath your neanderthal foreheadand prominent browline restfaux fashion glasses.

The cheap plastic lens reflects the flash of my cameraas your long strides allow you to progress towards me.Dust rises up from the gravel at your feet and I observe the unique contrast of this moment.I cringe at the thought of perspiration staining the most intimate layerof your neatly pressed suit.Your jawline imitates the angular rims of your faux fashion glasses.

I am distracted by the shadows cast by the hot summer sun,The indention beneath your cheek boneThe wrinkled crevices in between your eyebrowsAs you squint in an effort to block outthat which reveals truth.Your overdone perfect posture reassures me that you're hiding behind yourfaux fashion glasses.

I wish that our relationshipcould imitate the intimate layers that cling to your skin, moist from perspiration.

I was almost fooled.

13

The Sadness Factory

Today I went to the Sadness Factory

To eat a few small treats.

They say you shouldn’t eat your feelings,

But I don’t see the harm.

Chocolate, cookies, cake, and caramel:

I could eat them as one.

Swirly, twirly gum drops

fall like fun-fetti sprinkles from the sky -

A quick burst of happiness.

Electric through my veins,

Reminding me of youthful charm.

Randomosity

Natsumi Kira, my better half, was born in Japan.She collects skittlesAs they fall from the skittle tree.Doku tabu ni kono?

That boy in the corner Reminds me of a bald cat.I finally dumped him - Condescending, indecisive, selfish.Annoys me like a dirty child.Then he told me he loves me, as I had always loved him.

My sandpaper pillow Comforts me as I fall asleep.I dream of being watched as I sit on the cold toilet seat of misery.The turbulent tornado gave me a leathery sun burn The sound of screeching tires, also known as my alarm clock,makes me drowsy.

14

I admire my mother as she sprinkles tiny particles of sugar onto grapefruit slices.Her voice smells sweet like the syrup she squeezesonto her homemade oatmeal each morning.

Technology is the new spirituality.People are not technology.People are robots,Stagnating my creative juices,like the swamp where thoseflies came from.

My pen will stop gushing smooth, black inkonce I fill up this sketchbook.

15