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A soothing smell of burning leaves,
Candle-lit windows, haunting trees
Branches dancing in the subtle breeze
As a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

A distant light from the radio tower
Blinks on time in the late-night hour.
A star-scattered sky so still and sweet
As a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

Redlights ahead, the road ending abrupt
Kicking rocks to keep from looking up.
Cracks in my soul like the cold concrete
As a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet

A man staggers in the streetlight glow
He smiles because he knows that I know
I nod and gaze down the familiar street
As a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

Down by the oak trees and old ball park
The hillside hidden by the dense dark
I hear the rushing sound of Town Hill Creek
As a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

A poem by: Jerry Perkins
RN 2d
I can still see it clearly here in my head
The way you walk towards me, I'm not prepared
Like two phones being paired
The connections between us are being shared

You're slowly walking towards me baby
Oh ****, You're such a beautiful lady
This memory keeps driving me crazy
Like the one finger push up of Bruce Lee

Step by step you're getting closer
My heart beats are getting stronger  
You just pass me by, I'm such a loser
I look back and saw you hug him tight like a bear
Rhymes in my Mind
i run when things get too much
and everything feels this way now
so please
if you love me
don't let me run
i just need to walk
i need to move slower
don't move too fast

A road made by walking where you shouldn't.
Told not to by the full throat,
taken aback by paths desired away.
A brand apart from the rest, but so, too, the others can follow.
Heels that graze floors in an apathetic stutter strut.
A stepped up out of time gangliness of lanky mellow.
Walk where one may, walk where one wishes.
Struggling to write the world with words,
my eyes stumble upon the poplar's first
of many coming yellow leaves,
reassuring me that nature's hiding
a trick or two up her seasonal sleeves.
Lougene F Oct 28
I never really get tired
of long walks or mountain hikes
but I needed to stop
once in a while
to catch my breath
and eat pies

but when I stop
it doesn't mean I'm done
this is when I get ready
to pack and run

stroll up by myself anywhere
looking for a mystery
wandering to find
a hidden gem
wondering if you'll follow me
I always get tired when do much but I am not stopping for what I do. I rest and go again. #randomthoughts
Summer rain, hand in hand through old city.
Rock wall around, narrow streets.
Small markets and private galleries around
People looking for the roof or restaurant.
And we crossing the street patiently.
Wet and looking forward to each other...
When you in love and waiting to be with him.
Christy Lei Oct 26
9 p.m., the sky, lilac and indigo,
blurred; a glimpse of rosiness, raw and
gold, fading into each other’s presence,
perfect; the clueless
hue before ******, failed;
cues of intimacy, only physical.


We walk fast, amid the sea of ruins,
birds and fish passing
by, damp, salty; inverted passengers
made of paper, pale—his face
foreign to me; but the clouds above
us, soft, chunks of
white chromosomes floating,
fragments of obliviousness, bleached—
the Buddha’s face
appears somewhere; the smell of soil
ensues; the solid earth, flesh, and possibility.


I am not mad at him, but all the
strangeness: tears
shed upward; feathers freed
from the rib cage; bones
torn into incoherent languages; teeth
striking abrasive words, and jokes.
A vein inside me
broken; crisp; melanin spreading
on the surface of my heart, stealthily,
the subtle beauty of hidden
secrets, scars; present feelings
choking on
distant feelings, the shades of long lost
children, hungry, yet trivial to us.


Yes, p.m. is not a word, he said; but I
let syllables fall apart; down
to the origin, the cave, his form
unfathomable, but fire, dancing
shadows of myth, mocking at us—
the storytellers.
Merwin Nikad Oct 21
Today is a day for writing
I tell myself this
As if it actually means anything
Instead I take a walk
The air is crisp
The trees gently sway
With the soft october wind
And I sigh
For how could I ever describe
The architecture of nature
The careful precision of tree roots
How could I describe
The luminous patterns I see
In every creature
Every plant
What justice could I bring
So I walk home
And I tell myself
Today is a day for writing
And you will try your best
The world is beautiful in so many ways
And i want to see and tell of all those ways
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