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Maxwell Jun 2015
A bridge between the trees and above the water.
Stop, listen....
The trees are whispering their stories through the wind.
The water rushes under your feet.
Birds tells stories to one another back and forth, back and forth.
The air begins to get colder and the sin goes away for the night.
A blend of orange, pink, red painting a picture in front of you.
Smell the water and the trees becoming one with the wind.
And feel yourself letting go of everything and letting in the bridge.
This bridge is life's eraser erasing all those nasty words and replacing them with all different sights and sounds.
A bridge between the tress bridges the gap from one smile to the next
The prompt to write about was a time you listened to your body. Down the street from my house is a bridge that very few people know about. It's somewhere I go to when I'm having a bad day, it's somewhere I feel safe and happy
Grizzo Apr 2015
I'll never go back,
left a trail of gasoline
and dropped a lit match
NaPoWriMo #28 - Write a poem about a bridge
Ottar Apr 2015
if one day,

I am away,

worry not.

if in two or

three days,

there are

no words,

no write,

I am all right.

if a week

becomes

two and s t r e t c h e s

the ache…

to a month

or two in

you.

I have gone

across

the Rainbow Bridge,

to the Other side,

with no regrets

save not knowing

you, as one of this

Warriors conquests.
Pens or swords
blood or words
claims to shame
likeable fame
read and read
write and write
can you hear
your heart pounding
in your chest
to get out of
the lax-a-daisy
you have become,
get fierce,
in word
and deed,
sheath your
pen in some
one else's skin
and let the ink
stain behind.
Ethan Moon Apr 2015
Under the bridge
Pills, muscle & back relief
Empty
Cigarettes, mirror pond pale ale
Sail away from consciousness
**** slowly
Socials Studies 10 homework
Conflicted cultures, transient economy
Fur hats
Exploration, exploitation, for
Fur hats!
Litter, candy wrapper
What are you underneath that pretty shell?
Hard heart
Soft heart
Fragile
Pencil
Potential
Lost hope, failed system
Failure
Still the stream runs on, runs away
A steady hum, a constant purr
Pure
Impure
Sinner  
One day the stream will dry
And be forgotten, swept away into
Oblivion
Our memories, our ghosts
Numbed by the sound of water
Vanishes in time's cascade
Like pioneers and their fur hats.
A poem about the garbage I found under the bridge.
kjforce Mar 2015
The wind was blowing when she left the city...
I believe it was twenty below...
Where she was going she already knew...
But... first she had things she had to do...
Get rid of the body that was clear....
There were no options, it had to disappear....
The heater was broken and blowing cold air...
She could feel the ice, building up in her hair..
She had cleaned up the blood as best she could...
As she had hit him hard with that log of wood...
All she had asked him , was to light a fire...
To take off the chill in the house....
Do it yourself if you are cold...he snapped
And while you’re at it get me a cold beer...from the fridge..
It was early morning when she finally arrived at the bridge..
This was his favorite fishing spot...
She pushed his body off the pier...along with his ice cold beer..
And suddenly began to shiver and sneeze.....
Oh well, she said...this too shall pass..
When I get to the Florida Keys..

PS. This is  # 1 of 5 in a series titled “ Gator Bait “.  
Be sure to check them out...
Sometimes we have an issue that is best dealt with " in the mind "
Alexia Feb 2015
At that bridge we stood
On our last day together.
Haven't seen you since then,
But I'll always remember
The stars in you dark eyes
And your playful smile,
Wishing we could stay there
Forever, for a while.
But it was time for a change,
New beginnings, new ends.
Maybe in the future
We'll find each other again.
Jaclyn Jul 2012
This
            Will
Not      
                                                End

Well
Credits to Sierra
Mohammad Skati Jan 2015
I can not distance myself from                                                                                Declaring that friends are like                                                                                 Chains connected to each other                                                                                Anytime,anywhere,and everywhere ...                                                                   As long as these chains or links                                                                                Are connected tightly to each other,                                                                       Then no worries at all in our life ...                                                                           If these chains or links got broke,                                                                              Then all these chains or links will  fall ...
RH 78 Jan 2015
The bridge of trust smashed by bad judgement. It was made of bamboo anyway. A stone bridge would have stronger foundations to withstand this indiscretion.
Would the deep cracks limit it's resurrection?
I've rebuilt my side of the bridge but your side has drifted away down stream due to the earlier misconstruction.
The shaky understructure unable to withstand the bamboo obliteration.
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