Wander worried rambler roam.
Wander down the path of a riverside wood.
Step by step,
Shuffle to and fro.
A Forgotten industry remains.
Man made mines,
Dug out quarries,
Fencing, barbed wire, power lines, and pressure treated wooden poles.
Littering the landscape.
A blood letting favor, favored low.

A hydroelectric dam.

Murky and historical waters enter its mouth,
and then,
exit from its other side.
Constantly sucking, and spitting, and churning turbine whine,
Spinning gear stuck,
clamped to the spine.
Luck may have it that these waters may never go dry.
Luck may have it that these currents stay 'live.
Merrily manic, it flows.
Strong and bold,
sparkle, sprung, sold!
Pushes and rolls,
gives and goes.
Electric mother glow.

Neon, argon, blazing blast,
to give city speckled lights a mast.
A grip to grasp, to squeeze, to cast,
shadows in the night.
Yellow, orange, red, and blue,
the shades of dreamers,
with their sorrows leaded, heavy,
holy truths.
Unspoken tomorrows, last goodbyes,
mouthed silently at last
in their heads a film score out of time.

The air is baked, the land is spry.
The sun is shattered through prism pines.
I carry myself upon the leaves, of dead footsteps, make believe.
Native footpaths of long ago
and red sandstone trail of men to behold.
Come to this place and let sights be known,
Come to this place and let sights be known,
histories of ours, histories bygone.

Hiking thoughts put into words. The Red Sandstone Trail is a trail that follows along the Raquette River. The trail-head is located in Colton, NY. The hike is one of historical nature. Many remnants of business and industry remain abandoned along the riverside. A picturesque picture painted by the clash of man made industry, and the awesomeness of nature.
Patrick Jul 9

The ground beneath our feet shakes
As the American Spirit springs forth
From the geysers, from the sewers
And cloaks of ambiguity mold away

Directions no longer divide us
Tragedy brings forth the needle and thread
To sow friends and enemies together
Against a common foe -- apathy

Oppression knocks on the nation’s door
As we sharpen our spears to a point
And cry out into the starless night
Against the hammer of tyrants

Freedom’s trail will be blazed
Fields of grain will turn to flame
Cold winters will feel the heat
Of summer storms sailing to oppression's door.

Sam Jul 1

If I die in the mountains, leave me there to rot.
My boots will outlive my flesh.

So just push me from the trail, and cover me with dirt.
My soul, it will be free.

Bury me where the air is fresh and foliage is lush.
My true home, and the only one I've known.

Don't cry a single tear.
My corpse will disappear.

Far below the earth.
My heart can finally rest.

Clouds rolling across our azure sky
As far as my eyes could see.
The white man told us another lie
For he just couldn’t let us be.
Behind us all of our homes were burned,
Nothing as far as they were concerned.
Destroying us and all our years
Marching us onto the trail of tears.

Behind the mask they wore a disguise
In an attempt to cover their lies.
Teardrops falling like rain
While our blood spilled again and again.
One in front of another across our sacred land,
Oh if only we could have had our last stand.
Destroying us and all our years
Marching us on the trail of tears.

First the weakest fell, then the old
Then the youngest, all turning cold.
First my Aunt, then my mother,
Then father, my son, my brother.
I carried them all as far as I could
While the soldiers beat my manhood.
Destroying us and all our years
Marching us into the trail of tears.

I focused on one soldier with a crooked cross
As he told us it wasn’t far off -
I must killed him a thousand times.
He laughed and spoke in white man’s rhymes
As my feet began to bleed.
Cold, hunger, thirst, the water we need -
Denied to us and all our years
Marching us down the trail of tears.

More than a thousand miles we walked
And yet today my people are un-talked.
Could you walk barefoot in the cold that long
When all those you loved fell so wronged?
All for nothing but a gold filled piece of land
From which we, my people were banned -
Removing us and all of our years.
Crawling us along in our trail full of tears.

Somewhere in this society there is something so evil afoot. It's not anything new. As a matter of fact it's more common than you think. Daily the news is full of man's injustice to man. Yet all it would ever take is for those who claim to be good or righteous to stand up and put a stop to it all. But in corners of the world the trail of tears continues. All for some form of greed. I just don't understand.
Vexren4000 May 14

The puppeteers,
Of war and finances,
Perpetuated the Plight,
Placed upon Our People,
Places, Lost we have the gods good graces,
And in our infinite paces,
We find no rest in our worn down spaces.

Grow, grow, growing grow
Taller, wider, deeper, steeper

Topsoil cracking
Foundations creaking
Interstitial water leaking
Gases pluming
Sun too hot

Birds forgetting how to fly
Flies all set to multiply
Central heating turned up high

Fish recumbent on the sands
Hail brave campaigning elephants
Who rampage through
the concrete jungle
eviscerating 4WDs
with tusks awry
trunks outstretched
eyes akimbo

Vanguard of a worldwide army
of feather scale and bone
all stitched up
By might is right
into a threadbare tapestry of deprivation

Today we spread, we glow, we grow

In rampaging delight we gag
on feather, bone and scale
We suffocate ourselves

The earth will fry
And so might I

Is this the way to end our poem

© Diana Korchien 2012

This poem was printed in the 2012 Poetry Trail Anthology from Paekakariki Press. The Poetry Trail, where local estate agents displayed poems alongside properties to sell or let, was a part of Walthamstow's E17 Art Trail.
Pearson Bolt Jan 16

i brushed the tips
of her fingers
amidst the PVC pipe
as we sat
linked together
in lock-down.

our forearms stained blue
from the paint and tar
plastered to plastic,
holding down
the chicken-wire
purposefully designed
to make sawing us out
more difficult.

water protectors
chained together,
risking arrest,
the shackles a symbol
that we were willing
to trade our freedom
to save planet earth
from the 6th extinction.

sweat glued garments to skin
as the sun baked down from the heavens.
even if we failed today
to throw a wrench in the works,
still we rage against the machine,
still we sing our refrain endlessly:

the people gonna rise like the water.
we're gonna face this crisis now.
i hear the voice of my great granddaughter
singing, "shut this pipeline down."
it's bigger than a paycheck.
it's bigger than a job.
if you won't respect our Mother,
we won't respect your laws.

Earl Jane Jan 9

I left a trail of blood from my bleeding heart,
Praying that you will follow & mend me,
But the depth of my aching overflow & my river of tears erase it,
Now I am left with a track to my death,
A death of utmost throe, lonesomeness & dejection.

© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.

Kerstin Martinez Dec 2016

It's been so long
Since I've felt your hands run up my thighs
As your eyes peer up at me
Show me your hunger
Your body covers mine
As your tongue hits the most wonderful spot
It's been such a long time
Since I've felt that heat
The trail of fire your lips leave on my frozen skin
Its been such a long time
Since I've last felt your lips on mine
The heat has faded and frozen over

MindsPalace Nov 2016

Early morning, still asleep, but awake. Driving.
Trail head, moving, but still asleep. Starting.
Early blues, dirt and cold, move. Hiking.
Sunrise, waking up, seeing green. Accepting.
Light and day, a smile, and examination. Upwards.
Afternoon, some food, energized. Suspense.
Another start, a drink, you see it. Anticipation.
Final push, sun overhead, sweat. Breaking.
A moment, you're there, the peak. Relief.
A pause, a rest, the magic. Beauty.
Postpone, delay, but down again. Exhaustion.
Aching, sore, but worth it. Descent.
Time, darkness, back again. Driving.
Ahead -- another mountain, tall, for tomorrow. Sleep.

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