I took a class a few months back, it taught me how to drive a vehicle, the extracurricular activity is Driver's Ed. I listened well, but I wrote better, and in the notebooks we were given, I had written poem after poem, covering all the whitespace. About notes for later, and love that was now (it still is "now"), this book is full of literature, but the actual necessary contents are one hundred percent illegible literature.
Found my Driver's Ed learning book to try and study up, learn the laws again. I took one look in, and the page was chalk full of little haikus and poems of other forms. I can't read much of any pages because of my mind that loves writing poetry like an average person loves to doodle. I'll post some of the good ones sometime.
I see this life like a highway People moving at different speeds Some are on the fast lane Some, on the slow lane People are switching lanes Some have pulled over by the shoulders There is constant overtaking Every one has different destination But you still notice competition Some are naive, some are more experienced The hope and desire of all is to arrive safely Sadly, some end up not making it there!
Tell me mother as you kiss your baby that no one died today, that no one was a martyr or a hero, and that all who now sleep will awake, and that the sirens that now sound will be the only death recorded, and that the drivers without cars, and the cars without drivers, will each find a partner for as long as they need, like the Palm Doves in the park.
Tell me mother, that as long as you love your baby all mothers will love theirs and no mother will again mourn the foreheads without a kiss and the kiss that has no forehead to receive it.
written on a bus in Herzliya, Israel 22 April 1990 (Holocaust Memorial Day). On this day air raid sirens ring out across Israel at which point all traffic comes to a halt for a couple minutes. Drivers exit and stand next to their cars and pedestrians stop in their tracks and stand at attention while the sirens wail.
It should be noted that this poem had originally been written as a piece for Holocaust Memorial Day, though as the 20th Century bled into the 21st, it is clear that mothers and children all over our world are suffering untold miseries be they refugees escaping tyranny or victims of civil strife or war. This therefore is dedicated to all mothers and children.
I try to remember the kind of September When life was slow and oh so mellow* I try to remember the kind of September When I wore my navy blue skirt with white bottom down top, with glistening extension cornrows so tight like dreadlocks.
I try to remember the kind of September When I was young and carefree and no responsibilities Now it’s September those after school activities. Oh shiver me timbers to all the bus drivers Welcome to another school year with tears
Midnight back roads Dark - insidious Hungry for the intoxicated. A monster comes out to Prey on inebriated Fellows. Skiddings of tires, Broken glass, And red stains mark Where the beast Hunts Road **** A snack and drivers The main dish The cycle is Weekdays - innocents Weekends - idiots