ANu Aug 9
I travel through mirrors transcending time, reflective clone of a genesis divine. I see not 2 or 3 but a plenitude, a sea, endlessly expanding at angles and tangents by factors of me.

each of these pushing, still, forward until the primordial spark fades, making illumination impossible, lest they all catch up and we.... me ....regroup to collectively angle the fire back home to push on again by myself all alone.

I travel through mirrors, a transit through time, reflection of a universal consciousness with a singular yet transient genetic design
Universal consciousness
The day begins before it should,
and every minute is squandered,
before I jump into the car,
spilling hot coffee in my haste.

Then the rushing wind blows past me,
running through my hair in the dark;
headlights keep up with the sharp turns,
and the thumping stereo lifts me.

Parking, on time, walking briskly
to ensure the grandest entrance
to give a formal impression.
My echoed greeting meets my ears.

Hello, goodbye, I take over,
holding my vigilant station
as I toast bagels with butter
and wait for them to call me up.

"Ashley!" comes the petulant cry
and I manage to answer her.
"Coming!" And I take a slow sip
before heading up creaky stairs.

They want me to pick out their clothes.
They want me to help them get dressed.
I say, "You can do that yourself,
I'm here to do hard things, like cook."

Teasing, admonishing, waiting
for children to do what I asked;
I take one more sip of coffee
and the cup is gone far too soon.

Soon, they are eating their breakfast,
and I'm prepping backpacks and coats.
Something spills, and I clean it up;
then she says she forgot her shoes.

I tell her sister to get them,
but she won't go up there alone.
So we three climb the creaky stairs,
and come back with their socks and shoes.

We run out the door, lock the garage,
and jump in my car for a ride.
"Seatbelts?" I ask before leaving,
and they both ask me for tic-tacs.

A minute away, and I park.
They jump out and both wave goodbye.
I smile and wait for the school bus.
I drive to my next job, next door.
Work as a nanny, it's not for everyone, but I love my girls.
Mister J Jan 13
Staring at the setting sun
Thoughts drifting with the clouds
Mild sunlight kisses my skin
Gentle breeze hits my face
Headphones on my ears
Listening to the songs of my youth
Train ride feels a bit bumpy
People coming and going
Melting behind the scenes
As I stay frozen in my thoughts
Lingering on the moments
Of a roller coaster path
When there was suffering
And there were triumphs
When my smiles lit up
And the times they died
They're all here with me
Shaping me to what I am now
Still in my transit
To the destiny I'm given
Still growing and learning
Still falling and stumbling
But with hope and drive
With courage and faith
And an unfaltering will
I'll get to my destination
My final stop
And carry on to a new journey

I'm still in transit
Heading to that special place
Where I really want to be
Waiting for me
And made just for me
Reflections in life and past failures while travelling on a train.
Jan. 13, 2018
4:00-4:35pm PST

Saint Audrey Sep 2017
Dizzying fall
The ending claims all
Hitting rock bottom when there's nothing solid left
Fending off the end with each passing breath
Lungs on the grind, buying me time
Onward, headfirst
Through layers of earth
Til my soul is bending
Ears ringing with a thousand rending
Tales of farewell etching out
This cavity of self doubt

What the truth is I can't say
And most likely never will

The noise, it fades
Damned sprites screaming out my name
Eventually all lose themselves in the torrent
Of endlessness
Of abyss and persistance
Of nonexistence

No longer resist

Thoughts respondent of a scream
Repressing turbulent dreams
Still crawling along my back
Feelings crouched out of sight
Negativity, prone to attack

Or not
The truth
Is that
I still
Have friends
Or not
I guess

In life it's nearly always just a matter of time
Ricocheting through the valley of fatal decline
Wishing after thoughtless grandeur, wishing for more wishes
Ephemeral, it all
Falling to the ending
An astir this dimm
she dig train then abscond
that dawn set her part
just round nine o'clock

and she sped into town
but rode back at dusk
met me on this serial port
and funny interlude discretion

with a keystroke to browse
this cockamamie diatribe
while all through a route tonight
yet this flagrant twist ensue  

with her laptop a comrade fair
to find her again
upon this moment of bliss
she rightfully kissed

with a monument there
that touted strikingly tall
like an obelisk affront
an oft-heard prayer.
Tuana Mar 2016
Poetry is emotion
Traveling  is a magician of intensity
How much should I hate my blood
to be able to love my own skin?
Transit in Rome, 2016
Jade Mar 2016
there is a space i like to visit
in between sleep and wake
like walking in transit
the destination unknown and unsure
that little space, that tiny sliver
makes my spine tingle and shiver
the opposite of adrenaline rushes
the feeling spreads like a gentle brush
you never quite know when you enter
you only know that you entered
time has no say
no one can hold sway
not when you're in the place
this little bit of transit space
no one will understand
until it is there that they stand
a place that you have been
never a place that will be seen.
You were a masterpiece beyond comprehension
But it was about staying with retention
And the going was vastly overwhelming
The situation was too unrealistic to keep pursuing
Some ends were never meant to be tied
I'm sorry if i lied
I hold myself accountable for the crimes i commit
A train a little over the transit
Has the right mindset, wrong pace and approach.
Andrew Dunham Jun 2015
hey you.
yeah you.
it was 10:30 and i was groggy
my bones aching and creaking as if they were worn out machinery
you got on at Granville, maybe Thorndale
i may have missed your entrance, now that i think about it
you wore a class ring
that caught the morning sun and reflected it into my eye
but that wasn't what caught me
you stood patiently
as we lurched forward
you balanced
calm, composed, collected
i looked up ever so occasionally
hoping you'd be looking back
sometimes you did
i laughed
you left at Grand
i left at Lake
next wednesday if our paths may cross
i will tell you that i liked the way your hair looked
Tommy Carroll Apr 2015
We came upon slowing traffic.
Inside the bus
Standing passengers were thrown
and grips tightened
as we edged forward across
the unfinished road.

We passed the sun-glassed
occupants of cars and busses
and the rolled-up sleeves
of lorry drivers who's
tanned arms hung out
of every window, and
who's fingers tapped
an unheard tune.

I stooped to stare at the
dancing distance of  
the baked tarmacked

Our eyes stung and wet
The metalled road blazed.
Our approaching gaze silent.

Gripped passports Identity papers
rosary- beads
-Letters of transit -
not needed;
The border did what most
borders do-
and shrugged us through.

Laughter becomes all languages.

Later that afternoon,
I sipped from the glass I held.
Jez turned to me and asked,
"Is this what it's like to be drunk?"
I smiled as I slid my wine towards her...
words and foto T Carroll..
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