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Blue 4d
o' to look back                  
                  
upon this particular highway, marred

and battered                    
                  
but picturesque with all of its genuine

roadside charms                    
                  
of girls lost with their dancing flowers

within ruffian arms... or all those places

that change your character's wages
    
..... yeah... you know the ones...                    

we've all been there,                    
                  
driving along to that particular song

letting the breeze                    
                  
tickle those baby hairs just so,  

ohhhh—                  
                  
that ******* cool flow                  

ya, know?...yeah, you definitely know.

'highway hypnosis'                    
                  
is what we all called it whenever the

the haze                    
                  
grew and it Grew and it GREW    
    
The calming night skies              
              
together we'd ride                    
                  
it permeates,                
              
dissolving all those year's pains          
          
         ...  finally          
          
at last,          
          
it's now but an echo          
        
from my weirdly wandering        
      
             ....past.
.... a long drive of attempted absolution
I've got the pedal to the metal on a highway to hell.
Gotta keep my eyes on the road. Only time will tell.
I struggle and suffer through each passing day.
Gotta change my route, Gotta change my ways.
I see the exits that are off to my right, as each lonely day
shrivels into night.
The hands of the clock aggressively tick. No time to decide, I've gotta be quick.
The exit sign reads "green pastures, still waters ahead". Gotta decide, or else I'll be dead. The sun rises in the east and sets in west, foolishly speeding forward at least I'm trying my best. Ignoring the signs warning "danger ahead!". I've gotta turn off, or else Ill be dead.
So focused, so determined, to barrel ahead.
Why can't I stop? Why don't I hit the brake? Its right there!
Turn off for Gods sake!
"Still waters, green pastures ahead". I rush along as if nothings been said.
"Excuse me, Lord? What did you say?" As I struggle and suffer through each passing day.
"I've told you once and I've told you twice. Is there really a need for you to be told thrice?"
I say "No Lord, the sign is there, I see. No need for a thrice, the problem is me.
The sun rises from the east and sets in the West, you know Lord, at least I'm trying my best."
"Still waters, green pastures ahead". With deaf ears I've heard it all said. Barreling forward. Soon Ill be dead.
"Still waters, green pastures ahead."
I was living a life that wasn't quite the best. I felt like I needed to change my ways, but felt stuck at the same time. I needed God. I was laying down thinking one night when the lines of this poem started coming to me. So I jumped on Facebook and started writing.
miki 7d
you were
a drug that only worked when i didn’t need you
a run down
crimson chevrolet
driving so swiftly down
the beachside boulevard
nothing but endless ocean to the left
and a booming city at rest
to the right
i needed you
i wanted to come home
to lie next to you
dreaming of a life full of
daises
and strawberries on silver platters
in the summer
blue skies
forever

star light, star bright
the first star i seen that night

never worked
Kriti Gupta Oct 6
My heart isn’t broken
It’s dented in places
I’m rather accident prone you see
With damaged wipers and broken hazards
This muscle is the heaviest machinery
Maria Mitea Aug 21
It is Friday morning,
I feel like a robot lubricating its joints
with peanut  batter and jelly cookies,
repeating its movements over again;
jumping, running and extending into
the big robotic world with the hope of
reaching out to humans.

Driving to pick up Hilda, a soul
that needs a ride to heaven,
her husband a former mafia driver, in his homeland, lost his car and driving license,
as the virus came and switched  his brain on shootings and killings he witnessed,
in his youth days, when worrying more for money then life.

I hope for no shootings today,
Friday morning, and
The sun didn’t show up on the sky,
It can be too much even for him shining everyday, not an easy job warming up
earth’s feet when striving for a happy day.

It is early Friday morning,
The dog had no time for barking,
I feel like a robot that has been overused,

Waiting in the car,
I succumb to dreaming and export myself into a passed homeland life, were on Fridays evenings I laugh and wear cherries 🍒 behind my friendly years, when Apollon comes with his sweet kisses.

My client arrived , she moves like a robot too ... I drive ... we reach in heaven as we start talking and crying, ...

Hilda opens like a flower to the sunset, while she is telling her life story,
and how much pain she carries in her feet and arms, cut off at every sunrise by her mother denial, shootings hit her heart,
I pray and hope for her husband to be well,
and forgiven by Gods.

Hilda’s story wakes me up to being a human, ... between tears and pains we find our laughs, ... After we cry, laugh and feel  the pain, me and Hilda we feel like two humans on Friday morning.
Thank you Hilda!🙏✨
Mitch Prax Jul 20
There is only
one road into this heart-
no speed limit,
and no exits to
speak of.
Godlink Jul 16
Long late night car drives

music so melancholy

Us both listening
Road.
Endless road
Traveling into the burning sun
My car tires roll smoothly on the concrete
As oak trees wave hello by shaking their leaves
I respond by cranking up the volume of the radio
My favorite song has resurrected from the ashes of time
Blues run the game by Jackson C. Frank:

Catch a boat to England, baby,
                                          
               ­                           Maybe to Spain...                  

Wherever I have gone                

                                          ­          The blues run the game                

I find myself lost in the man's ranging voice
So drunk with bliss, I abandon all instincts
The rolling hills and farms don't help either
My hands unclench the wheel, unwinding
I sit back and let the sun caress my face
Turning my vision gold as I smile aimlessly
If this is what Heaven feels like
God, take me now.
I just got my drivers permit, and so far, country driving is my favorite type of driving. It's so relaxing, especially if there's no one on the road except you.
Mark Toney Jul 5

driving home to you
unfortunately I died
~ text said I love you


driving and texting
new car for graduation
~ hi guys guess what I'm


busy city streets
need to text spouse I'll be late
~ pedestrian hit


can't wait to see you
didn't see car stopped ahead
~ text never sent




© 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.

https://www.stoptextsstopwrecks.org
7/4/2020 - Poetry form: Senryu - stoptextsstopwrecks.org - © 2020 Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Amy Perry Jul 3
We stop our faithful car
Halfway between both
National parks
Because the scenery
Was too gorgeous
To quickly forget.
We sit down near a cow fence
And you pick me a flower
And place it in my hair,
And I can tell everything
With you is about the scenery,
The message, the emotion.
You’re an artist that never
Turns away from the canvas.
You never turn off the appreciation,
The evaluating, the creating,
And I want to kiss your
Tired eyes,
The ones that must dream
Exhausting things
All night and day,
And now there are tears in my eyes
And they sting
And it’s because I realize
How draining it must be
To be so beautiful.
You make me realize
How similar we are,
I see myself in you.
Everything to me is poetry.
All the double meaning
And metaphor
Gives me context, gives me life,
Helps me make connections.
It drives me absolutely insane,
Being an artist at heart,
And then in a twist of fate,
That turns out to be
Exactly what you want.
Now we’re weeping
On the side of the road
Somewhere in Idaho,
And you love me,
And I know it,
And it hits me hard for the first time,
And I’m an artist
So I want to feel it all.
And we talk about love
And our fears about death,
How we’ll always be artists -
Me, the mad one, and you,
The sad one, and we laugh,
With tears of every emotion,
And we want to drink them up,
And it’s like time doesn’t exist
On this abandoned highway road
With the unforgettable view,
The unforgettable me,
And the unforgettable you.
One of the first poems I wrote for him.
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