Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kora Sani Jan 16
every time
i see a blue
pick-up truck
i flinch
even though
i know
you don't drive
one anymore
I've been looking for a Christmas Tree
The search has been so hard
Last night, I found the perfect one
Outside in my front yard

I venture past it every day
But, it never caught my eye
The tree is forty two feet tall
It reaches to the sky

Last night as I was leaving home
The moon shone oh so bright
It caught the snow on one low branch
And it really was a sight

I looked at it much closer
Saw perfection to my surprise
I'd been looking for the perfect tree
And here it was before my eyes

I couldn't bring it in the house
It would stay out front for all to see
We'd decorate it outside where it stood
The Perfect Christmas Tree

We started putting lights on it
We could only go so high
A neighbor stopped on his way home
with an idea he said to try

He came back by this morning
With some friends and just our luck
They came with two long ladders
And a bright red fire truck

In no time all the neighbors
Started coming by to see
They all bought decorations
For our giant Christmas Tree

It took two days to finish it
This tree that stood so tall
We planned to light it up that evening
To be seen by one and all

On Christmas Eve it happened
The fire truck made one last stop
They extended both their ladders
We put the star up on the top

It was perfect, and we knew it
The neighborhood was there as one
The lights and decorations
Made it light up like the sun

So, next time you need something
Look around and you might find
Perfection, like our Christmas Tree
Just as God designed
If Daphne
she's leaving
behind those
tires that
slay these
roads like
chains for
brighter climes
that diversion
claims horse
and winds
hoofs that
ream dots
in trailers
as nights
turnaround my
love dame
A love of law that my sisters groove on this highway!
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Feast your eyes upon all the
                                       mangled
                                                twitching
                                                            bodi­es

trapped in the grills of fat and
                                                        brown
                                                              pa­ckage
                                                           ­         trucks

so far away from the idyllic blades of
                                                                ­ green
                                                                ­        and
                                                                ­           sun

crossing ***-hole asphalted rivers where
                                                               alligators
                                                                ­        speed
                                                                ­            amuck

We all get hurt crossing seemingly
                                                       empty
                                                           perilous
                                                        ­           streets

and end up in some wolf-dressed-as-sheep
                                                                ­    machine's
                                                                ­               sharp
                                                                ­                     teeth

are we different from the insects
                                                 roaming
                                                              on­
                                                            inst­inct?

If only you could wiggle your body more to the side
but the alligator never slows and the wind is a bonafide
                                           bully.                                              
At least I can see whats ahead, might as well enjoy the ride.
Jack L Martin Aug 2018
Frickin' freckin' fruckin' fruck
Fifty bucks to fix my truck
Pockets empty
Out of luck
I'm stuck here now
***?
oar
an oar
that her
canoe bade
by spoon
when park
saw the
river boat
upstream and
she was
saddle the
bridge then
transfer ride
near edge
with my
pickup nudge
her but
seasons end
this is she Jul 2018
i sat in my mother's truck for the first time in a week
his hair covered the cab seats
and stuck to my pants
i noticed his collar on the dash
'MILES'
all dogs die
but maybe they go to heaven
my dog passed away a week ago from yesterday. i feel so much grief, and i feel so guilty even though i didnt do anything. so heres an emo poem.
ph Jun 2018
I remember driving down the sun-baked
city street, on a mission to find
something, somewhere, which
now I cannot remember.
But I do remember this: you pulled
the truck aside and said, “Go grab some of
those pods off those trees.”
When I protested you simply gestured
for me to get going.
To this day, I still have mimosa and catalpa beans
stashed away in an old cigar box, silk trees
waiting to be planted in the
rich, dark earth.
Next page