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Erian Rose May 1
Under the streetlights
on the corner of 11th
autumn turned into showers
your pupils reflected
seasons becoming racing beats
hours stumbling out of reach
In-Flight Convergence
by Michael R. Burch

serene, almost angelic
the lights of the city                 extend
over lumbering behemoths
shrilly screeching displeasure
they say:
that nothing is certain
that nothing man dreams or ordains
long endures his command

here the streetlights that flicker
and those blazing steadfast
seem one                                   from a distance
descend?
they abruptly
part                      ways

so that nothing is one
which at times does not suddenly blend
into garish insignificance
in the familiar alleyways
in the white neon flash
and the billboards of convenience

and man seems the afterthought of his own brilliance
as we thunder down the enlightened runways

Keywords/Tags: city, lights, streetlights, neon, signs, billboards, trucks, traffic, runways, landing, jet, plane, airplane, brakes, screeching, alleys, alleyways
Ksh Nov 2019
Empty streets in the cold of night,
An evening not so much as autumnal as it is of winter.
The roads, lined with little pinpricks of light
that seem to go on for miles, and miles,
without a beginning nor an end.
How does one differentiate a starting and a finishing point?
The laws of physics dictate
that displacement be calculated by the distance one has traveled
from their initial point of motion.
If I have traveled far and wide,
and stepped into the same footprints that I made when I first left,
I'd have come full circle;
my displacement would be nil.
Would it have been better to have been away, exerted all that effort, have gone through all the *****, and glamour,
and excruciating moments of boredom and nothingness
that life had to offer, just to come back to the same spot I started?
Or would it have been better to just stay in place,
mum and silent, with the world passing me by,
like streetlights in the road,
illuminating the way like signposts,
to the end for some, to the beginning for others,
but always -- always -- just a rock in the stream?
Anastasia Jul 2019
Talking next to you for hours
Turning cigarettes into flowers
Listening to the cricket's song
Can't sleep, awake all night long
Thinking of your, your voice, your heart
Being away from you tore me apart
Dancing by the lake
Moon's reflections shattered
Darling, I will wait,
You are all that matters
Found a plastic bag,
filled it up with violets
Listen to the sound
Of forgetting the violence
Streetlights
And store lights
Wandering with you
Darling how
I wish I knew
What I mean to you
I guess I'm just not good enough
Anastasia Jun 2019
I remember last night
With a sunset sky
Pink
Lilac
Baby blues and glimmering golds
I wanted to see you today
But I couldn't
Not really
I remember last night
When we talked until the streetlights turned on
When I put little white daisies in your hair
And you smiled for me
I wanted to do that tonight
But I couldn't
Sadly
I remember last night
When we sat by the creek
And caught fireflies
Flickering in the dimming light
Like little neon stars
I wanted to do that tonight
But I couldn't
And it hurt
I just wish I could feel okay, right next to you
Anastasia Jun 2019
I caught fireflies
Alone last night
Even though
You were right across the street
When the streetlights
Turned on
You were still gone
And I caught
Fireflies
Alone
I hate this feeling
Em MacKenzie Apr 2019
Hello ghosts of my old conversations,
I hope you’re doing well, I hope you’re doing swell.
I’ve held off analyzing and questionable relations,
I know it’s hard to tell, I let it drop after it fell.

So pardon me for the pity party,
but life’s put me in my place,
it provided me with it’s greatest gift
and saw me put it all to waste.

While I’ve been battling consciousness,
you can only see a glow in the darkest nights.
So I walk along to escape what I wish to repress,
and continue on with a saga of streetlights.

Hello hauntings of my old meaningless mistakes,
I see you’re standing tall, I see you’ve found your call.
I’m lacking heart and still it yearns and breaks,
I should no longer stall, I’ll think I’ll construct a wall.

And oh how those ellipses, how they cut when they clip me,
I’m feeling blue, falling into you and play it off like I’m tripping.

While I’m picking prisons instead of flowers,
I close my eyes cause I could never set my sights.
I waste the minutes but it feels like hours,
and I’ll continue on with a saga of streetlights.

Life is like an empty box,
no, not a box of chocolates.
Lately I’ve been creating static with my socks,
and sticking silverware into the sockets.
And I went to lock the door
but I couldn’t turn the **** just right,
I froze up just like before
and I clenched my fists too tight.

So while I’m battling different versions of me,
I won’t hope to win, I’m too experienced with fights.
With a broken leg and a notoriously bad knee,
I’ll continue on with this saga of streetlights.
duang fu Jan 2019
In the grander scheme of things, stars are just streetlights

Often times things feel like
They’re more of a hurricane
Than a passing wave in the golden horizon
And sometimes they’re too complex
To put into words or fully comprehend

The night feels wistful,
The moon more lonely than usual
And the stars don’t seem to
Form patterns in the sky anymore;
And you wait till sleep takes you away
To another night sky
Only this one is far too mediocre
To hold celestial beauties in its arms

Dawn tosses light yellow powder upon blue
Feel the dull ache of my ankles in the morning chill
Pressed upon the pavement is my single silhouette.
Past the trees and telephone cables
The sky is yellow powder decorated with glitter
The stars are still in the 6.50am sky
The streetlights still brightly awake past their bedtime

“It’s not as big as you make it out to be”, you’d remind me;
and sometimes I see what you mean.

Sometimes the stars in the sky are just like streetlights. Not as grand and mystical and faraway as I think them to be. Sometimes I feel dizzy and suffocated, caught up and spun in the eye of a hurricane. But as time passes, I find myself sat alone on a rock on the sand, watching the waves roll over one another, chasing after the setting sun - and I realise that the danger and the terror is over. Not for good, but it has left for a while - and that’s sometimes more than I can ask for.

In that moment, I’d believe you when you say, it’s not as big as I make it out to be.
written 09 june 2018 ; 3.22pm
Inspired by something shannon barry wrote, which i shall put below:

@barry_happy on instagram: "It's not as big as you think it is" is a piece of advice Elizabeth gives me frequently. It applies to pimples and problems and worries and heartbreaks. It is a gentle way of saying "I know you Shannon. And I know what you are doing in your brain right now. Stop that." Because I make everything big.  So if you’re like me, and you’re there right now, let me be your Elizabeth: hey. It’s not as big as you think it is.
(And it’s going to be just fine.)
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