Ordinary

dog

I wonder if we are all just living our eulogy

Tales we tell of love and warmth, purpose and valor

Personality spikes sprinkled with dramatic deplore

Is there such a difference between dog and man beyond the years we roam

Egoist form, primped faces wearing tailored clothes

I tripped on humility today

Landing on realities declaration

Extraordinary we are

Only in the moment we are born

~ Alisa Hutton

Wide Open

angels

It isn’t my place

No plan or hope for a connection that I wish to keep

My table seats few

The spirits poured of particular character and taste, the company never cheap

Arms wide open

I am not sure your ego has allowed you to remove your blinders and fully come to see

My wing span now

The simple reflection that I have set myself free

No longer do I stand to extend myself to you in trust and good faith

See my eyes, hear my lack of words

Your delusions of me have been neatly left at the door

My respect for you sharply stuck in my back and the reality

I was always just an acquaintance

Nothing more

~Alisa Hutton

Comfortable Bite

empty-chair2

She drank from a cup called love

Topped with romantic tale and bold sincerity

Holding dreams in passing clouds and whispered glances

Dropping her thoughts and caring extension

Eyes and Heart

Expansive and wide open

Her vision, none

A seat at the table of embarrassment and hurt

Plated for one

Concepts of such belief seemingly left a stain on her linen

As her mother always warned

Fine cotton is not meant for every guest who arrives at your door

Merely for the ones who show good character and by standard deserve a little more

Glitter from her belief in magic started to scratch at her throat

Taking pause her heart took note

She sucked on a lozenge, a new flavor she thought she should try

Reality

Not so inspiring but a much more comfortable bite

~Alisa Hutton

Lavender Vodka

femme-fatale2

The flicker that excitedly danced in my eyes

Ignited perhaps by the lavender vodka purchased on my tab

A well mixed cocktail called a Femme Fatale

I hear your thanks, I raise my worth

When you reached for my hand in seek of loving warmth

I wonder

Were you chilled by the cold in my heart

Or was it your frosty demeanor that never allowed the thaw

While quenching your thirst during your visit to my protected harbor

You left a rusted anchor on my shore, it belongs to a vessel they call your past

I think I saw your values floating away

The bed we shared, the vulnerability that was served on that plate you licked clean

My mistake

I took it for more than sheets needing to be pressed with dignity and trust

The dry cleaner called, the shirt I gave you off my back is ready for pick up

Poetry I wrote for you with a renewed beating heart

Brace yourself, you were kissing a fool

Like a record that has a deep scratch, I skipped that part where you said you didn’t actually care

The line of reality and commonality is thin between that of the liar and that of the delusional

Time to pull out cupid’s arrow and put it to good use to scratch my head

Trying to forget the person sitting beside me who never existed

Drinking my lavender vodka in a well mixed cocktail I think I have tasted before

Femme Fatale

~Alisa Hutton