There's an old abandoned bridge
between Yosemite and here.
Take the Lathrop exit where-
(or don't, it's your life after all)
-we throttled to jump off it
when our buddy flashed excitement, a boyish daydream, and we decided.

Our clothing
     soon was hanging
         on a long forgotten railroad track

(Sitting naked on a maple board-
            Probably from the Civil War.
Dropping rocks to test the height,
            Water black with no rapport)

         He giggled like a giddy child
     trying not
to give us flak,
(For being such a bunch of scaredy cats)

Moonbeams on our skin, and also iPhone torches, and the headlights of the Jeep.

And did he jump? yes!
From a stand with only his two feet supported by a 2 by 4?? yes!
He flipped behind his head!
A backflip with a midway twist.
(Or maybe I half-remember,
It was just a normal flip)

I swear, man, it was amazing.
Off the wooden railing,
Pale and falling towards the water,
                                                          ­ which,
(by the way)
was as black as the apocalypse.

Splashing ghostly underwater,
Then shimmied up the concrete pillar,
Called out to the crescent moon,
And gave a thirty foot salute,
       plunging towards the blackened river.

Laughing, swimming,
He called up to us, quivering,
(And said),
                "Alright, you're next."

nights rang with slamming doors
days half empty
like her creaking king sized bed
mirror reflected regret
poured down the sink
along with her budded cigarettes
the memories
she tried to forget
building bridges
that were burned for twenty years
with her matches
that he gave her
slept-in cars
driven over
the crossing line
of arguments that reoccurred

mornings rang with silence
air filled with tension
thick enough to start a forest fire
if the lighter fluid's out
put the cigarette to your mouth
it'll burn more than
your love ever did

I found a pair of shoes while walking
across a bridge like I often do
Neatly placed below the rail
as if they expected you
but you shall not return

I found them on my stroll to town
which I take on Sunday am
Neatly placed there
as though you’d come again
but you shall see them no more

I dare not disturb them
These shoes which do not know
that I gazed upon your presence
In broken disregard in waterway below
for you shall see them no more

Instead I walked onward
with errands far too many
And attempted not think of how your shoes
reminded me of me
and my desire to join you there

and be seen no more

To cross bridges, let's have faith,
In the ultimate survival of the human race,
Why demonise migrants this way?
We're humans, just the same,
Even terrorists who use their creed
As a mask for greedy power, indeed,
If we spread brotherhood far and wide,
We could cross bridges that divide......

B-/W-itches
Burn to the ground.

But I guarantee,
I'm the best at burning bridges,
So show me to the shambled mess,
And I'll ignite a fire
So very bright.

Because I'd rather suffocate
Than hear their names again.

I'd rather drown on the smoke
From when I burn the bridge down,
Than let petty brats walk along the planks again.

I'll burn that bridge
With them on it.

I'll ignite a flame so bright,
Ignite your plastic promises,
And throw the embers to the wind.

Of all things,
She opened my mouth and built a bridge only we knew existed.
She arranged pillar upon pillar
Of steel beams.
I struggled understanding what
To do with the left over bolts.
She grabbed my hand
Taking turns throwing them on the outskirts of where we stood.
We stood between the beams,
An incline of sights seldomly seen.
Afraid of heights she rarely looked down.
She'd bury her head in my chest
Very rarely she looked down.
Spoken words clustered in steel beams
Without fear of plunging below.

When you give someone or something up, it doesn't mean to put it/them on the proverbial shelf to look at every now and then when things get boring.

It doesn't mean you should keep them in the background of your life so you can wander out to them when there's nothing going on in the foreground.

There's nothing uncivil about removing people or things from your life.

I'm not going to give any more of my attention to certain people and all the vices of my past.

Holding onto a piece of them builds the bridge to bring them into my present, and I don't have time to be tempted or distracted from the things that matter to me the most.

If that's cruel, so be it. Some bridges are meant to be burned.

When your graces devolve in real trance
Then my sweetheart I have to take chance
Through bosoms knot when eyes start dance
Red and white flowers then carry the glance

Down to the graces is hidden a real treasure
Which my heart ,soul and body can't measure
Under the circumstances I can commit blunder
What I can see in you is definitely a wonder

Let me be covered with your charms,graces
Let me take along you all determined paces
Let us be eye to eye to take in front our faces
Let us be clear in making together love bridges

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copy right 2016 Golden Glow