#routes
in my new existence, I seem to be seeing the world differently
I have rememberings of a time that no longer are there
that part of life changed at some point
do I want to know when that was
do I want to move on with the existing reality
I need to not forget
I need to stay with eyes wide shut
taking in all that is new, with the memories of forgotten eternities
allowing myself to welcome in the freshness of new routes
Brian Hill - 2020 # 251
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 9:00 AM UTC
Evening darkens upon the moors,
Forgiveness—a hairless thing
skirting the headlamps, fugitive.
Why have we come,
traversing the long miles
and extremities of solitude,
worriedly crisscrossing the wrong maps
with directions
obtained from passing strangers?
Why do we sit,
frantically retracing
love’s long-forgotten signal points
with cramping, ink-stained fingers?
Why the preemptive frowns,
the litigious silences,
when only yesterday we watched
as, out of an autumn sky this vast,
over an orchard or an onion field,
wild Vs of distressed geese
sped across the moon’s face,
the sound of their panicked wings
like our alarmed hearts
pounding in unison?
My family did get lost in an English moor on a dark moonless night. It happened when I was a boy. My mother was driving and seemed to have no idea where we were, or which direction to head. I wondered if we would ever find civilization again. It was a very spooky experience that I drew on for my poem. Keywords/Tags: England, Devon, moor, car, headlamps, headlights, directions, maps, points, routes, strangers, signals, orchard, field, geese, hearts, relationships, parting, separation, divorce, loneliness, alienation, free verse
Feb 27, 2020
Feb 27, 2020 at 2:10 AM UTC
When you are together
Be together completely
Let them know
That they are loved
Until they begin to understand
What that actually feels like
And then keep on with it
Loyal by nature
Be rest assured
That they'll stick around
So let me scale your walls and
Be close enough to love you
And carefully search for
Signs of the surest routes
To your golden heart
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 3:46 AM UTC
All the zigzag routes come toward You
So the right path is the destination of all twisting ways!
As the center point of a circle is One!
O! my Lord!
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Jul 5, 2017
Jul 5, 2017 at 9:08 PM UTC