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Julie Langlais Mar 2016
The monotony of life
Repetition
Repetition
Repetition

As crazy as it sounds
It gives me purpose
When I steal
A moment for myself
To enjoy my hobbies
It increases my appreciation

I do love what I do
Which helps
With motivation
Of my...
Repetition
Repetition
Repetition

Waking up
To the sounds of my alarm
Shower
Eat
Traffic
Work
Supper
Sleep
Pressing repeat
5 days a week

I find meaning
In what I do
An inviting challenge
Each day
Bringing new layers
Varied scenarios  
Frequently hectic
Sometimes stressful
Often...
Repetition
Repetition  
Repetition

Still...
Always a fresh day

Perhaps...
To some
I hop along
In the dull clouds of life

While, I find
I swim along
In my stream of stability

Jl 2016
I have changed.
Newer colors from my inner light.
Count these colors…at the end of
My rainbow… A heart of gold is in sight.
I may not be accepted into many lanes of social traffic.
So, I continue an enjoyable ride to
Where I shall be clearly seen and finally have a pit stop and enjoy some limited moments of social interactions.
Then I’m off and going with the other faceless drivers trucking their goods to those who understand the boxed tricks.
To a waved message along my way down life’s sometimes lonely highway.
I enjoy the sights along my way.
Fake historic landmarks might be shortly breath taking..
However, my truer trip takes to the better city attractions…..
The true structures in life’s light in the road that ends from some faceless traffic.
I see your meaning and learned from the lessons taught well.
Later on, I shall be the teacher and the newest of brighter attractions… Pennies for my thoughts?
After the millions of writings are bought.
A millionaire shall I be in my well earned heaven.
Never,hastily, choosing the quick and easy fix and route to hell.
Miss Clofullia Feb 2016
Making all the small mistakes,
we move on, from one gig to another,
with our head up-high,
and our ear glued to the railroad track.
We walk backwards, surrounded by defective traffic signals
and multi-toned car horns – an impersonal Trojan toy horse,
with too much space inside our frameless carcass
to be filled by an empty soul.
Àŧùl Feb 2016
Begging kids are very often seen,
Performing the ridiculous dances,
In hopes of just some of silver dirt,
Cleaning with dirtiest rags your car,
With a lifeless looking baby in arms,
A teenage mama with another inside,
Such is any Indian big city's traffic.

Manipulating them is a hidden lord,
Report to Lord of the Traffic Signal.

Sympathy is what they hope,
Empathy is what we reflect,
Apathy is what they really get.
My HP Poem #1024
©Atul Kaushal
RH 78 Feb 2016
Bumper to bumper.
Stormy rain.
Strong gusts of wind.
Bridge closed again.
Anti clock wise delays.
Bored of radio.
Stuck in the traffic.
Light blinks...
                      Fuel low....
                                           Oh no!
Stuck on the M25 in the UK again! How can a bit of wind and rain ******* our infrastructure?? Inspirational madness.!
TSK Feb 2016
Press on the brakes
Red lights
Slow going.
Discouraging.
Just across the way
White lights shine
So promising.
Full of hope.
And happiness.
A color of encouragement
and a better day.
Yet sitting, stuck,
amid a sea of red.
Let me remind you
of the most crucial
detail you forget:
Behind every white light
glows a red.
And preceding every red,
just out of sight,
is a pair of white lights,
shining brighter than day.
That day, something got into me.
Approaching the corner of 155th
and Broadway on the Upper West Side,
my friend and I were only a block from home.

Either we'd been on a mission for candy necklaces
or bubble gum cigars, from the place where the guy
was always grumpy, never actually scary,
and the sawdust on the floor, the real cigars
in fancy boxes, were something to wonder about.

Or we had just scored our first fresh sugar canes,
one each, and much taller than either of us.
The kindly Puerto Rican green grocer, proud
of his new shop, hoped we'd try the plantains
too, getting a kick out of our delight
in what he'd always known.

The light was red, and we weren't in a hurry.
I just got curious about this trap door on the side
of the old cast iron signal post,
and decided to see
if it would open... and it did.

Smiling to myself, an uncommon, delicious
sense of mischief lighting me up inside,
I calmly flipped a switch.

Instantly, all four lanes of traffic, heading north
and south on Broadway came to a screeching halt.

The feeling of power was intoxicating.
And unforgettable.

Had I been an older kid, had the policeman
who happened by been less lenient, had anyone, God forbid,
been injured, I could have been in some serious trouble.

Injury never entered my mind, and maybe the officer saw that.
All in all, I got away with the only really naughty thing
I did as a child, and still get to smile.
And remember.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
sun stars moons Oct 2015
two cars stuck in
traffic turning
left blinking in
opposite harmony
in time with the
beating hearts of
fellow hurried
drivers at rush
hour in the heart
of the city just get
me home to my
bed alone where
I can mope until
dinner comes a
calling caught that
yellow light I'm
finally on my
way and there it
is again that
******
yellow
light.
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