Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Jul 4 Traveler
dude
“For the longest time I thought the letters for tiddy sizes was like the grade system. Kept asking myself what’s the big deal about d’s? Those are below average tiddys! But I totally get it now.”

-Stevie Wonder (2003)
This isn’t poetry!
  Jul 4 Traveler
Mac Thom
Yes. Ride up the Yukon in winter –
No one to stop you.

I can see your tracks threading northward
and, once you start, it won't take so long

to get there, to the end, if it matters.
They say starting’s the hard part,

to get ready, tighten the straps,
test all your gear, all the training.

The winters have come and gone,
but the frozen river waits for you

to pedal through the deep snow,
because you will, now that you've started;

covered in ice, squinting in the glare,
and it was enough to keep pumping the legs,

filling the lungs, singing a song, to follow
the river north in the winter. Happy

to be there, in that blinding light,
with feet too frozen to start for home.
  Jul 4 Traveler
Ayla Grey
Mirror mirror on the wall
Reflect my sorrows reflect them all
And when I cry when I scream
Reflect the way I think of me

Mirror mirror on the wall
Reflect the way in which I fall
But catch my teary eyes in sight
My eyes of gold reflect the light
  Jul 4 Traveler
Lawrence Hall
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                             But, Hey, No King

The most lawless ruler is a Man of the People
Posturing upon some whited balcony
His pouting lips frozen in a perpetual sneer
While his toadies cheer their *******, and call it freedom

The semi-automatic rifle is their Bible
Barbed wire is their semi-automatic law
The Constitution is but the president’s whims
          (Let us now pray
          for his bowel movements today)

Congress and the Supreme Court with feet of clay
Await in fear, in disgrace, in moral decay
For a Murat to come and brush them away:

                                  “Citizens, you are dismissed.”
  Jul 4 Traveler
Whit Howland
Living
if  you call it living

vicariously
through  you

a passenger on  every
trip

where
you always drove
Next page