Four Poems by Shontay Luna

Beware

Beware of those who
are offended upon 
contact with the term

BLACK

LIVES

MATTER.

Those of the ‘closed eyes and minds’
masses are numerous; flooding 
ignorance upon the shores of social
media. So quick to say 

all

lives

matter

in all caps and a minimum of
one million, two hundred thirty - three
thousand, six hundred forty - seven
exclamation points in an act that 
proves itself most futile. 
“All lives” aren’t gunned down
mercilessly for having car trouble,
or playing with a toy gun. Or driving
their car or standing in their grandmother’s 
backyard. “All lives” aren’t hunted, their
bodies aren’t riddled with enough bullets 
resemble a block of Swiss cheese. But

BLACK

LIVES

ARE.

Floater

He floats on a barge
in misty, darkened 
waters.

I stand at the harbor
with my ticket, having
waited for hours. For the
privilege of it 
ignoring my presence.

When it’s finally my
turn, I’m breathless.
Mind exhausted 
from placing all 
possibilities into
overdrive.

When I ask if
I may board, he
says “no.” He 
gives an explanation,
but all I hear is the 
answer.

And the vessel pulls back
out into the sea,
smiling at the harbor.
That still ignores me.

Ode To Atlantis

Eternal Heaven-Under-Glass with a 
healthy side dish of mysteriousness,
destined to be great under Hercules’ 
bronzed strength and the vastness of 
your delta. The sunken land is marked 
forever dusk as the god makes his rounds, 
hair in shimmering reams. Divine in your 
essence and time – honored,
your reverence lies still and gentle. 
Quiet and smooth the dome that protects you 
abounds life in it’s highest civilized form. Forever 
out of reach, yet at home in the mind, you are 
wherever Man’s wondering 
mind takes him. There you lay,
bubbling in a brew of luminous azure that g
ives the nautical countryside life. 
The water hovers above you 
as you fearlessly remain under the murkiness. 
The sound of peace: the most loving song, 
is caught in the perpetual spring. Gold and celestial 
through the reflecting waves. The land resembles 
an antique cookie jar upon the highest shelf, 
seemingly miles away from an 
adoring sweet tooth. 
Many have searched to willingly fall into 
the charm that is of you. 
Walking an uncertain path, 
using the heart as a compass, 
only to be eluded.
As you lay waiting, 
beneath each glorious sunrise.

Cinquian #1

Father
is a most strange
word in my dialogue.
The oddest hand of fate 
took him.

Chicago born Shontay Luna is a poet and fanfiction author. Her work first appeared in Anthology and Capper’s (uncredited) and her most recent appearances include The Crucible, Press II Press and Blue Lake Review. Her latest release is: The Goddess Journal – A Tool For Unlocking The Goddess Within Every Woman.