Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Emily Jul 2018
Planned a long road trip
In the name of friendship
Seven hundred miles that day
Home and bed five miles away

Midnight sky with fireworks high
Red “H” on engine gauge much closer by
The sight was quite a fright
No longer feeling such delight

Pulling to the side
My time to bide
Until a tow appears
To relieve my fears

Mosquitos delight
They win the fight
On the interstate highway
Above their lakeside byway

Vibrations move the car
While passing trucks go far
E.T.A. at 1 am
Police set flares at 2 am

2:20 rolled around
At last the car was found
Speedy hookup
Not another hiccup

Left car at garage
Free ride home removed my rage
Doubled the driver’s tip
Reduced the bother to a blip

3am can go to bed
Yet so wired in my head
It takes an hour to mellow out
In four more, the sun from bed will rout

Was it worth it in the end?
Any day, I’d do it for my friend.
Marius Banik Jun 2018
16
No love
No hope
No dream
Daddys car
Lethal speeds
Touch me
Where? Away
Alcohol is expensive
Parents agressive
Anywhere but here
Drive
Drive
I hate my friends
Hate you too
So stay quiet
And love me
Only thing killing us
Is death
harlon rivers May 2018
Three thousand miles
navigating a storm
without drop of bad weather
Abacus odometer clicks
rotating forward ―  
spinning with the
world go round

Circling back down
a long and winding road;  
where unforgotten memories
were once searchingly explored,  
untrodden pathways
coursing way up north of alone
on the low highway
  
Now an aging shepherd
wonders without a compass ;
a vagabond deprived of light
from an ever blurring north star
Heart empty as a gas tank
with a broke down gauge,
running on fumes of hope
for unpromised tomorrows
Running from loneliness
just to be on the run

The gales of silence bellow
No feelings I can see ― lay me low

Wild-eyed daydreams
of Full sails billow out
through the windshield,
only hearing the unspoken
moments sigh restlessly ―    
The dull droning road rumble
re-sighs renunciatively,
a tired monotone voice
mimicking the loathe silent echo
wallowing in an
omnipresent hollow void
deriding unspoken chaos
between the passing centerlines ―

A frost heave pothole erupts,
with a leaf-spring rattling thud,
as a fleeting cloud of dust arises,
set adrift with the draught
headed off the east side
of the Alcan highway:
blown way outside the lines,  
towards the Alberta prairie

White knuckled steering wheel
held sway,  rolling down
a beckoning wilderness
          reincarnation; 
default reset button paused ― 
stuck in a moment ― until another jaw rattling
frost-heave pothole in the highway,
            jars it free

Leaving it all behind
like a sigh breathed
in a silence a heart has outgrown;
just a fleeting cloud of dissipating dust,..
         a paling whisper
the past seems to send forth
  like a fading last breath

Letting it all unfold to become what it is


     harlon rivers ... May 2018
       ... travelogue 2 of some
Seth Honda Apr 2018
The fastest way to get to heaven, is to bring it with you. These are the words that flood my mind as I glance over at the little piece of heaven sitting in my passenger seat, brown hair flapping in the wind, her hands in the sky, a bright glimmer of happiness in her chocolate brown eyes. We fly down the coast and I watch my worries fly out of the open convertible top, our stresses disappear with the wind, our happiness getting caught in our teeth. I can hear our happiness bubbling and screaming with each of our laughs. So we laughed, the deep kind of laugh, the laugh that starts in your toes and travels all the way up through your stomach to your throat up to your nose and it makes your head shake. It is the kind of laugh that I live for, your laugh. Heaven is not a place, or a time. It is wherever you are, and whatever minute I spend with you. Heaven is a place that I go every time I look into your eyes, every time I hear your laugh, see your smile, smell your perfume in the air. You are my little piece of heaven. Winding down the coast of whatever state we are in, in whatever car we rented, during whatever season it was, none of that mattered, because winding down the coast with you is perfection. It is noticing the tiny flecks of gold in the corner of my eye as your hair catches the sun. It is feeling the wind whipping through our clothes and hearing your giggling whip through my eardrums leaving me giddy. As we drive, I feel something fall atop my nose, then below my eye, then on my fingertip, little droplets of rain. I look up at the nearly cloudless sky and wonder. Wonder how a beautiful day could yield such conflicting weather. I look down a little and wonder how a beautiful girl could yield such conflicting emotions. The rain falls harder, rain drops whipping against our faces like bugs on a windshield, I pull our car over. I step out into the pouring rain and smile. I smile the kind of smile that starts in your throat, the kind that rises from your throat and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. The kind of smile that is contagious. On earth there is no heaven, but there are pieces of it. And I know as the droplets of rain trickle off of my head, I have one of those pieces in my passenger seat. I dance around to your door, droplets of rain bouncing off of my head and swing you out. Your hands close on mine and I know my piece of heaven is holding me. Holding me as rain engulfs us, drenching us from head to toe. Dripping wet, we fly down the coast of whatever state we’re in and wind whips through our drenched shirts and shorts. Yet, I am warm for I have a little bit of sunshine in my passenger seat. A little bit of pure joy, thawed out happiness, raw love, in my passenger seat. Now I sit next to you, in some car, some place, somewhere, sometime, but those things do not matter because it’s not just someone, its you. The fastest way to get to heaven, is to bring it with you. And I definitely have.
April 29, 2018 || 12:59 AM
Taji Mar 2018
To the boy in my back seat
I can see you my friend
There is contemplation behind your eyes
And thoughtfulness behind your smile
I drive on stealing glances as I go
The things that make up who you are never cease to amaze me
As we travel farther away from what we know I am calm
I feel this way because of you
I would stand on the pier with you
Or next to the grass where the goats graze
There aren’t many places I wouldn’t explore with you
But for now you’re safe in my back seat
And I can dream of what is yet to come
As I steal glances into my rear view mirror
Of the boy in my back seat.
I wrote this about a friend that i cherish very much. We were on a road trip and i kept seeing him in my rear view and thinking about how much i loved him and his friendship
Alex McQuate Mar 2018
Tearing up I-75 like bats outta Hell
The radio jacked up to MAX
to be heard to the roaring of the wind,
Seeing as the top is off of the jeep

Zeppelin and The Who
Van Fleet and The White Stipes
Generations of rock
Shared by the elder and the young
Different problems faced
Yet shared circumstances

The pace is rapidly set
Like invaders they ride
Or gunslinger of the old west
Buying into the legends of their own immortality
Like a final ride  before closing that part of the past for good

Even some of that Seattle sound trickles in
A much younger and angrier Pearl Jam
Sometimes even the garage rock get a turn in the spotlight
Their pace exponentionally increases like a runaway train
It's end destined to be in a glorious and terrible wreck

The road trip is on
These rockers of all ages are on the warpath to a good time

God help us all
Coraline Hatter Feb 2018
I'd rather spend my life traveling
without any destination in mind
just exploring

A life spent on trains
and planes
roads and cars

Than living at a place
in a country
a city
That doesn't feel like home
because i don't know
the rest of the world
nor myself
Spent 5 hours on a train today
One more to come
and I love it.
L Perry Feb 2018
Once again I'm lost
     Big Billboard  Ronald McDonald
tells me to embrace summer but how
          
           with the air con in its death throes + baking tar breath.

              In the back with heat stroke + around
                             thoughts
                     mixed

                       **** your seatbelt I'm decomposing

             Read too much Burroughs
             Read too much Fear and        
             Loathing
+ all I can think about are mistakes and exes
Next page