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Jovy 5d
the trees are dancing
like the leaves racing
from start to end.
short poem about the trees
Natalie Jan 26
my heart races for you,
it goes the extra mile for you,
it passes the finish line for you,
it does all these things for you
and you aren’t even there to cheer it on from the crowd
Vexren4000 Sep 23
A maelstrom of madness,
A malign of mediation,
Tearing asunder land and sea,
Scraping the Earth,
A typhoon bring change,
And reminding humanity,
Of their lack of power.
Ellison Sep 13
Jim had ran in many races before
They never once occurred to him as a chore
He was strong and fierce like a hardened ox
And he was never sick with a cold or pox.

He trained every day without a single pause
His wife was there to support his every cause
And his smile always stretched from ear to ear
And he never once succumbed to darkness and fear.

But his passion for music had touched his collar
And he wanted more than just fame and another dollar
So he stopped the running from himself and sat in his chair
And forgot the track he once loved and cared.

He stayed in his room every day for a week
And every so often, his wife would peek
In the door crack just to see
What creature should behold thee.

The cans of alphabet soup that stacked upon the floor
Were made into towers that leveled even the door
And she saw the mess he made in his musical craze
"I pray that this is just a foolish Autumn craze."

He finally came out after a month or so
The wailing of sound had turned down low
So he came out to see what the world had come to
When his wife suddenly screeched out, "WHO ARE YOU?!"
He said, "It's me, Dory. I'm sorry if you were scared,
But did you really think it was some stranger impaired?"
She cried, "Look at your eyes. Look at your face,
YOUR YOUTH HAS LEFT YOUR BODY WITHOUT LEAVING A SINGLE TRACE!"

He scowled and shook from the drafty Autumn wind
The veins on his body were apparent on the skin
He tumbled down the stairs and the race had ended there
And the alphabet soup had run out with nothing left to share.
Nearly cried while writing this. Hope you like it.
Anno Sep 7
It ticks
Like a bomb
Inside a cave
When it explodes
It only has one place to go
Out the way it came
With fast wind
Hot fire
And death
That follows
May 29, 2013 6:59pm
Diana Garcia Sep 6
Here comes the epiphany
The moment where I finally gain some sanity
Before I was aware now I’m finally self aware
I can finally see what’s in my 1000 yard stare
When did I ever become so eager
Where did it begin?
Maybe it’s the child that’s lost within
who was deprived of attention
Finally the attention did come but it was unfortunately through molestation
My heart races for it, my mind paces for it
People I love find it hard do ignore it
It’s about time I stopped boring it
It it it it it
Fuck attention
I don’t even need a mention
Why should I cry
Pry my heart and let it dry
I’m so angry at myself
How the fuck did I put my own needs on the shelf
Fuck this
No more excuses
It’s time to stop being so useless
People see I don’t take care of myself
Why did I put my dignity on the shelf
I need to stop substituting those things for the elf
I don’t need help
That’s why they all yelp
I need to get off my ass
I have no reason for sass
I’m not the shit
I’ve got a lot of more to work on than I’d like to admit
I’m like a roller coaster
rob kistner Aug 11
_

it's kick stands up eyes cast to the west
this is the day we've anticipated
our escape from the grind
four long-time friends
chasin' adventure
seekin' truth
all in

fueled by the freedom of the open road
we race our way into the sunset
leaning tightly into curves
wind whipping our hair
our knees tucked
heads down
flyin'

thriving on the thrill of the throttle
embracing the magnificence
living in the moment
not counting time
or keeping track
just being
free

_


rob kistner © 1970
(revised 2018)
A little concrete poem I originally began writing while my three best friends and I were crossing the USA, riding our motorcycles.
Very recently I added a third stanza (the opening stanza) that I had pondered numerous times over the years.  I had for years been dissatisfied with how this piece began. A few weeks ago it hit me like a ton of bricks. Begin the poem how the adventure began - "kick stands up"! I posted it today because this is the date we went kick stands up, and took off on our cross country adventure in 1970 - to return home the next year,
Oh, great horsemother in the sky,
Here is a question from a bard such as I,
Are you shooting a racing vet today?
Another horse was destroyed for gain,
This is, of course,
A personal hobby horse,
If a horse gallops anyway,
Why are you whipping them this way?
This is the sport of kings, you see,
Death for a horse, if not its jockey,
Sounds to me like animal cruelty,
Racegoers turn the other way,
Drink some more best champagne,
This is question, better yet,
Does horsemother ever shoot the vet?
We lost another beautiful thoroughbred today, shot by  the racing industry.
Constantine Aug 8
I don't get it
i stood still for so long for this to work
finally we might have the timing right,
so why do i feel like this one is amiss too.
I can feel your love, it feels real this time.
I just don't know if i can say the same about mine.
I'd hate for you to read this.
I promise i love you like i always did
but i think this affection needs to be from a distance.
....
Sage Jul 17
We are lighting up
just to try them out
See the smoke escape
From darkened mouths

Watch the swirling clouds
meet the horizon
In a laid-back town
Leaving your pure-white gown

In the backseat
Just too young to be treasured
Just too old to be loved
We are driving
We are racing
not-quite-classic car

A place of our own
With cigarette burns
And a world of steel
Needles to numb what we feel

Without a care
Higher than the smoke blows
Burning pavement and open skies
Sending letters of our lies

In the backseat
Just too young to matter
Just too old to run
We are living
We are losing
A not-quite-classic car
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