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Robert C Howard Sep 2019
Over untallied millennia,
    roiling Gunnison waters
sliced through southern Colorado
    schist and gneiss like a sabre -
carving tower walls of black rock
    ribboned with tableaus of
pegmatite and mica flakes
    flickering in the mid-day sun.

2,000 feet below, meandering
    through its stark canyon walls
like some legendary serpent,
    the Gunnison murmurs softly -
resting on its laurels.

Robert Charles Howard
September 2019
Ma side-cariste,
comme un  cerf-volant flotte
Rattaché à un fil,
Tu roules dans ta caisse sur chassis Tomahawk
Attelée à ton prototype, moi sur ma Cheftaine Indienne
D'origine,
Moi ta prothèse, ton calumet de la paix.

Et rallye après rallye,
Cascade après cascade,
Escale après escale,
Notre route à deux
Emprunte les chemins escarpés
Les canyons
au sens propre
comme au figuré
J'enfile mon casque coloré rouge blanc et bleu,
Je me signe d'un shot de Wild Turkey
Je me sens des ailes d'aigle,
Je me sens Evel Knievel ex machina
Ford Davidson et Harley Mustang
Je m'élance sur la rampe
Je franchis  le mur de ton  son en flammes
au dessus d'une rangée de quatorze comètes écrasées et amassées
Dans les eaux de ton Grand Canyon sidéral
D'où saillit la fontaine de Caesar Palace
Saturée de mille requins affamés qui crient :
"Color me lucky !
Dakota J Dawson Apr 2019
Has
God been here
Before

With Jack
Rocks
Impassable walls

Stains of yellow
Petals
Falling down

Washing down
Acidic joints
Painting
Prettier beginnings

Along
False roads
Gold with
Total fog
I went to the canyon
To see the sights
To read the writes
To meet the heights
The heights were high
The lows were right
But something didn’t click

The tears didn’t run
The breath wasn’t taken
Yeah it was cool but I’m not mistaken
I wanted to be blown off that cliff
But the wind fell short, the air was stiff

Never have I met my sense of awe
I hope we’ll meet someday
I’m holding out hope that I find my strike
That I’ll be blown away
I was trying a new style with this one. It’s more rhyme oriented. This one might seem stiff but I’ll get more comfortable with it. I want to diversity my poetry a little bit.
Kassandra Apr 2018
The soul can               take much more
then one would               think it could
It’s hard to make        a canyon inside
a figment imagined           for all good
Somehow mine has       broken inside,
it's crumbled and               has cracked
My imagined                 muse has gone
Her home has                  been attacked
gbye Jan 2018
I wonder how you see me
I feel larger than life
Collecting moments and breaths, bundling them into my chest
When I speak I sing, when I smile I show all my teeth

But in the quiet
Next to you, under the moon
My smile is small and tight
My voice quiet and soft

I wonder if you’re afraid
Of who you would receive
If you asked to be mine
I wonder if that fear is why--a canyon lies between us
M Rose Nov 2017
Calling out into the canyon,
Echoing, echoing, echoing.
Sometimes I think I'll die there in the morning light, but then--
a Buzzing. You ask if I'm coming home.
I hear the rumbling of the semi trucks
and they sound so tired. They sound like me.
The Gray enshrouds me and it gets hard to breathe.
I think about that night so often.
I thought we would be a Long time
but you disappeared right before my eyes.
Steam rising from my flesh, with my last breath I ask you to stay;
you remind me that I held the blade.

When the shards of glass Pierced
your skin I felt the Stinging
alongside you.
Mouth gone Dry,
at last I see how my love turned Blind
for nothing more than a Flicker and a Shadow.
tw: violence, intrusive thoughts, etc.
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