#gravel - Hello Poetry

All this praise is a slow poison which cripples under my skin. You can not see and can not feel but you will see its appeal. It dazzles the one who lays its eyes upon and glances surfaces by its arrival. Oh and oh and oh and oh how i grovel upon its arrival as it may gesture empathy but it is not. i slowly decompose in its sedimentation. It is a disguise. A disguise. One must not fall yet i fall. I fall and fail. Fall and fail. Fall and fail. Fall and fail. How many times has it been? Since i've felt this eradicating feeling from my core. Has it been moments ? Days? months? years? My whole existence?

0

Sep 20, 2025

Sep 20, 2025 at 9:18 AM UTC

uRTNaintialwrites

Praises

All this praise is a slow poison which cripples under my skin. You can not see and can not feel but you will see its appeal. It dazzles the one who lays its eyes upon and glances surfaces by its arrival. Oh and oh and oh and oh how i grovel upon its arrival as it may gesture empathy but it is not. i slowly decompose in its sedimentation. It is a disguise. A disguise. One must not fall yet i fall. I fall and fail. Fall and fail. Fall and fail. Fall and fail. How many times has it been? Since i've felt this eradicating feeling from my core. Has it been moments ? Days? months? years? My whole existence?

23

‘Twas many a road…I was able to travel… And many a country dirt road…I took…made of gravel. When the car door swings open…and you must set out on foot to see things clear-ly’… Smells and sights open up before you…’til you see that which before…you didn’t see. The modern world adorns itself with paved roads and enclosed cars…we take for granted… There was a time not long ago…when animal’s feet or our own…moved us across the planet. Man has come a long way…in a very short time… But the Future lies ahead…on that Mankind may still lag behind. We must look to where we are going…Step out…and take a good look around… If we’re not welcome where we’ve been…We can shake the dust off…as we leave town. Oh…I treasure the time…when my only thought was what lie ahead… On a quiet and still road I walked…my thoughts were like the ones I dream in bed. Nothing else mattered…Nothing could disturb… I’d like to explain it thoroughly…if I can find the right adverb. The sun was melting the dust…before it reached up to the clouds…from the heat… The dry weeds around crackled in the warm breeze…the ground was hot beneath my feet… The cricket was madly chirping at the sun…while the raven was looking for something to eat… A copperhead was sunning his backside on the road…and slithered away…so we would not meet. And there…right there…it occurred to me…that it is OK for the world to be serene… Out there on a distant country road…the quietness played out an epic scene. We talk and beat the world into our submission… With or with out anybody else’s permission. The world must go our way… But the world went mine…on a gravel dirt road that day. You see…I had time to think…I had time to be thankful to just be there… How many times along our journey…do we stop to think…or begin to care? Ya’ know…the world kept on spinning while I was walking…and eventually reached my destination… The world was doing its own thing…It did not have to stop for me…there was no obligation. We can find ourselves when we aren’t looking…in a place we set out to find… But we will never make it into our future…if we forget what we left behind. The world is a relatively simple place…So sorry to have to inform… It has been doing its own thing…Well…since long before any of us were born. We are along for the journey…We must sit back and enjoy the ride… We are not here because it is all about us…Gee, hope that don’t hurt your pride. It is Ok to be human…to get down a road using our own two feet…I must say… I love an ol’ country gravel dirt road that I can walk along…on any ol’ given day! ‘Twas many a road I was able to travel… And many a country dirt road…I took…made of gravel.

0

Mar 28, 2024

Mar 28, 2024 at 4:20 PM UTC

manlypoetryman

‘Twas Many A Road...

‘Twas many a road…I was able to travel… And many a country dirt road…I took…made of gravel. When the car door swings open…and you must set out on foot to see things clear-ly’… Smells and sights open up before you…’til you see that which before…you didn’t see. The modern world adorns itself with paved roads and enclosed cars…we take for granted… There was a time not long ago…when animal’s feet or our own…moved us across the planet. Man has come a long way…in a very short time… But the Future lies ahead…on that Mankind may still lag behind. We must look to where we are going…Step out…and take a good look around… If we’re not welcome where we’ve been…We can shake the dust off…as we leave town. Oh…I treasure the time…when my only thought was what lie ahead… On a quiet and still road I walked…my thoughts were like the ones I dream in bed. Nothing else mattered…Nothing could disturb… I’d like to explain it thoroughly…if I can find the right adverb. The sun was melting the dust…before it reached up to the clouds…from the heat… The dry weeds around crackled in the warm breeze…the ground was hot beneath my feet… The cricket was madly chirping at the sun…while the raven was looking for something to eat… A copperhead was sunning his backside on the road…and slithered away…so we would not meet. And there…right there…it occurred to me…that it is OK for the world to be serene… Out there on a distant country road…the quietness played out an epic scene. We talk and beat the world into our submission… With or with out anybody else’s permission. The world must go our way… But the world went mine…on a gravel dirt road that day. You see…I had time to think…I had time to be thankful to just be there… How many times along our journey…do we stop to think…or begin to care? Ya’ know…the world kept on spinning while I was walking…and eventually reached my destination… The world was doing its own thing…It did not have to stop for me…there was no obligation. We can find ourselves when we aren’t looking…in a place we set out to find… But we will never make it into our future…if we forget what we left behind. The world is a relatively simple place…So sorry to have to inform… It has been doing its own thing…Well…since long before any of us were born. We are along for the journey…We must sit back and enjoy the ride… We are not here because it is all about us…Gee, hope that don’t hurt your pride. It is Ok to be human…to get down a road using our own two feet…I must say… I love an ol’ country gravel dirt road that I can walk along…on any ol’ given day! ‘Twas many a road I was able to travel… And many a country dirt road…I took…made of gravel.

38

A gravel is sharp and pain piercing holes in the air and same as a human in reign with knives and crown in hair. Against the wall try to lean a hand to understand the fear for you life is to live and read while the time is there to bear.

0

Sep 11, 2020

Sep 11, 2020 at 2:38 PM UTC

kerli-tulva

Gravel

A gravel is sharp and pain piercing holes in the air and same as a human in reign with knives and crown in hair. Against the wall try to lean a hand to understand the fear for you life is to live and read while the time is there to bear.

8

Indestructible, for Johnny Cash by Michael R. Burch What is a mountain, but stone? Or a spire, but a trinket of steel? Johnny Cash is gone, black from his hair to his bootheels. Can a man out-endure mountains’ stone if his songs lift us closer to heaven? Can the steel in his voice vibrate on till his words are our manna and leaven? Then sing, all you mountains of stone, with the rasp of his voice, and the gravel. Let the twang of thumbed steel lead us home through these weary dark ways all men travel. For what is a mountain, but stone? Or a spire, but a trinket of steel? Johnny Cash lives on— black from his hair to his bootheels. Originally published by Strong Verse. When I was a teenager Johnny Cash used to pop into the Nashville McDonald’s where I worked to buy burgers after the Grand Ole Opry let out. True to his nickname, the Man in Black always wore black. I think he’s as immortal now as human beings can become, since someone will be singing songs he wrote and and recorded till the end of time. Keywords/Tags: Johnny Cash, black, hair, clothes, boots, voice, rasp, gravel, steel, guitar, songs, music, mountain, stone, heaven, manna, leaven

0

Mar 22, 2020

Mar 22, 2020 at 1:39 AM UTC

michael-r-burch

Indestructible, for Johnny Cash

Indestructible, for Johnny Cash by Michael R. Burch What is a mountain, but stone? Or a spire, but a trinket of steel? Johnny Cash is gone, black from his hair to his bootheels. Can a man out-endure mountains’ stone if his songs lift us closer to heaven? Can the steel in his voice vibrate on till his words are our manna and leaven? Then sing, all you mountains of stone, with the rasp of his voice, and the gravel. Let the twang of thumbed steel lead us home through these weary dark ways all men travel. For what is a mountain, but stone? Or a spire, but a trinket of steel? Johnny Cash lives on— black from his hair to his bootheels. Originally published by Strong Verse. When I was a teenager Johnny Cash used to pop into the Nashville McDonald’s where I worked to buy burgers after the Grand Ole Opry let out. True to his nickname, the Man in Black always wore black. I think he’s as immortal now as human beings can become, since someone will be singing songs he wrote and and recorded till the end of time. Keywords/Tags: Johnny Cash, black, hair, clothes, boots, voice, rasp, gravel, steel, guitar, songs, music, mountain, stone, heaven, manna, leaven

19

_Spin me some velvet, Scuff me over with gravel, Pick me some bluesy strings; Tie me a bunch of wildflower quavers, Let’s hear how your phoney sax sings. Dip me in treacle, Needle me with soul, Groove me some dirt and some bass; Blow me your ***** devil’s pipe strong, Let’s play us some bourbon and lace. Spin me some velvet, Scuff me over with gravel, Lay me down in meadowsong; Rent me a dime’s worth of old dust and daydreams, Honey chil’, you cain’t do me no wrong._

0

Jul 3, 2019

Jul 3, 2019 at 9:13 PM UTC

annh

Old Vinyl

_Spin me some velvet, Scuff me over with gravel, Pick me some bluesy strings; Tie me a bunch of wildflower quavers, Let’s hear how your phoney sax sings. Dip me in treacle, Needle me with soul, Groove me some dirt and some bass; Blow me your ***** devil’s pipe strong, Let’s play us some bourbon and lace. Spin me some velvet, Scuff me over with gravel, Lay me down in meadowsong; Rent me a dime’s worth of old dust and daydreams, Honey chil’, you cain’t do me no wrong._

15

Driving through an untouched place, The modern era has kept it’s distance, Mother-nature has taken over. We arrive to a grassy area, Only the trees to provide shade, We strike a match. We walk aware of the beauty around us, We walk in an unmodernized place, No shops, buildings, and factories. The urban areas have purpose, But sometimes, just sometimes, Rural feels more like home. © Regan

0

Jun 2, 2018

Jun 2, 2018 at 11:16 AM UTC

regz

Backroads and Bonfires

Driving through an untouched place, The modern era has kept it’s distance, Mother-nature has taken over. We arrive to a grassy area, Only the trees to provide shade, We strike a match. We walk aware of the beauty around us, We walk in an unmodernized place, No shops, buildings, and factories. The urban areas have purpose, But sometimes, just sometimes, Rural feels more like home. © Regan

13

Long car trips Crowded with junk And cramping legs Flashing light streaming through the window Into the muggy car air, A trapped fly banging on the glass, Low rumbling like gravel thunder And bursts of shaking Rattling teeth and seatbelts When you roll over stones Wisps of vented air Curling around your naked toes, And sweaty, rumpled clothes. Skin sticking to fake leather seats The slight sifting sick in your belly Sitting fat like a toad, And hoping the stuff in the back Isn't shaking or breaking apart From the crunching washboard gravel, And drowsy eyes, tired from endless trees Slowly drift until you arrive in the dark

0

Jul 11, 2015

Jul 11, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC

msamendable

Long Cartrips

Long car trips Crowded with junk And cramping legs Flashing light streaming through the window Into the muggy car air, A trapped fly banging on the glass, Low rumbling like gravel thunder And bursts of shaking Rattling teeth and seatbelts When you roll over stones Wisps of vented air Curling around your naked toes, And sweaty, rumpled clothes. Skin sticking to fake leather seats The slight sifting sick in your belly Sitting fat like a toad, And hoping the stuff in the back Isn't shaking or breaking apart From the crunching washboard gravel, And drowsy eyes, tired from endless trees Slowly drift until you arrive in the dark

21

Sometimes the world is rough, like gravel is always tough. but when this happens I must trust, the one that is closer then my own trust. The river is flowing now, this is bigger than a frown. But now I must try again, a old friend means a new grin.

0

Dec 3, 2014

Dec 3, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC

snowflake

Gravel

Sometimes the world is rough, like gravel is always tough. but when this happens I must trust, the one that is closer then my own trust. The river is flowing now, this is bigger than a frown. But now I must try again, a old friend means a new grin.

8