I was standing there
In the heart of crossroads
Blindly staring at the unfamiliar road signs
Traffic lights must have misheard my wheeze
They shifted before I could breathe
Inexorable headlights race towards the freezing me
As if magnet and metal were meant to be
I am here, facing back
Tracing the road I wanted to wrack
With thought of facing the crack
Measuring the weight to repack
Memories of morning sun heating away the haze
Passion of youth in this town had become blase
Fleeting replays of ugly truths in these old days
So I stepped out the lies builded with ablaze
I will be moving, starting from here
By the side of crossroads
Slowly walking away from these rusty road signs
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 1:44 AM UTC
so much depends
upon
a dark silence
library
with soul’s of
writers
buried by ages,
times
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:40 AM UTC
I love that novel,
like an angel loves to smile
I said I love that novel
like angel loves to smile Love to open it in the midnight
love to whisper to it
“Let’s read, awhile!”
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:33 AM UTC
There was a boy sitting in the bar
Planning one day to be a rock star
He ordered pink milk
And then he started to bilk
Running on the road and hit by a car
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:32 AM UTC
Poor Shirley sat quietly blinking
These poems have got me to thinking
I can’t find a word
That isn’t absurd
My tries at poems are stinking
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:30 AM UTC