Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"carpool" poems
Warning: The seagull flying over the Appalachians could not possibly be amused by the puzzles of an illegitimate composer and the skyscrapers climbed. 1. The skyscrapers were played by tall rocks a girl climbed when she couldn't remember if the cape she wore was made from steel or newspaper. 11. The newspaper they all read together that morning (girl, boy, king, etc) promised nothing but a fifty percent chance of dandelions terrorizing the bus stop. 2. The bus stop had since become a dealer corner and the sunset behind the mountains was blocked by the flipping hair of a lost boy. 7. The boy bought a toy for cheap -- it had a built-in laser, so she stole it to blast a whole hole in that guilt-ridden quilt hung over the four dollar love seat. 6. The love seat, she bought the day he went to maple -- the soap dispenser was broken, but she couldn't find anything new (that she knew) to wash her hands with. 5. The hands that handed her a hammer were covered in promotions, so she stole the motorcycle when they were watching the scarecrow going through electric-shock, disco therapy. 8. The therapy that she received from the parrot-king and his troupe of square roots was enough to make her not forget not regret the boy with feathers in his ears. 10. The ears she woke up with one morning were different in shape than before and the black fur she knew was growing before her eyes. 3. The eyes of the boy were wider than the nightly news station promised, and there wasn't really a difference between caves and boxes in a town that small. 4.   The town she arrived in didn't have a carpool lane or derby, so she had to take her pet goldfish to the river for his depressive state. 9. The river wasn't as flooded after a couple weeks of changing the tune on the jukebox she found way before the departure of her white gold pearls. 12. The pearls she wore for her coming-of-age were buried beneath a dirt mound when she promised herself to always insist on herself.
0
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 10:49 AM UTC
Seagull Schmeagull
Warning: The seagull flying over the Appalachians could not possibly be amused by the puzzles of an illegitimate composer and the skyscrapers climbed. 1. The skyscrapers were played by tall rocks a girl climbed when she couldn't remember if the cape she wore was made from steel or newspaper. 11. The newspaper they all read together that morning (girl, boy, king, etc) promised nothing but a fifty percent chance of dandelions terrorizing the bus stop. 2. The bus stop had since become a dealer corner and the sunset behind the mountains was blocked by the flipping hair of a lost boy. 7. The boy bought a toy for cheap -- it had a built-in laser, so she stole it to blast a whole hole in that guilt-ridden quilt hung over the four dollar love seat. 6. The love seat, she bought the day he went to maple -- the soap dispenser was broken, but she couldn't find anything new (that she knew) to wash her hands with. 5. The hands that handed her a hammer were covered in promotions, so she stole the motorcycle when they were watching the scarecrow going through electric-shock, disco therapy. 8. The therapy that she received from the parrot-king and his troupe of square roots was enough to make her not forget not regret the boy with feathers in his ears. 10. The ears she woke up with one morning were different in shape than before and the black fur she knew was growing before her eyes. 3. The eyes of the boy were wider than the nightly news station promised, and there wasn't really a difference between caves and boxes in a town that small. 4.   The town she arrived in didn't have a carpool lane or derby, so she had to take her pet goldfish to the river for his depressive state. 9. The river wasn't as flooded after a couple weeks of changing the tune on the jukebox she found way before the departure of her white gold pearls. 12. The pearls she wore for her coming-of-age were buried beneath a dirt mound when she promised herself to always insist on herself.
Continue reading...
65
I wait for you to come closer, To draw closer and tell me That you can't deal with me Any more. Not with my Insane, bordering on Psychotic, behavior, and My bipolar mood swings. But, you draw closer And you smile right at me, And draw me into a hug For a second, that little voice, Which I am always aware of, Which tells me I'm never Going to be good enough For anyone to accept or like, Let alone love, Fades to the back of my mind. I let myself relax Into your warm embrace and I let myself be and believe. I turn to smile at you... Before I can see your face, Your features, I am woken up From my daydream By the bell signalling the End of school. I pack my bag And head towards my carpool, My movements sluggish- Even cheerily wave goodbye to A few stragglers. I reach home and eat lunch alone. I go for tuition, let myself Become numb to everything But learning and understanding. It becomes darker and it's almost 8, I come back home again. I had been out from 7 in the morning. This time, my family's there and We eat dinner together, though, I am barely there with them. They're discussing important Things like business and will Talk to me later. I finish eating And go sleep. Tomorrow's going to Be the exact robotic same.
0
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 7:53 AM UTC
Monotonous
The day of the site visit I hurried out at six fifteen to wait For a train with a waning moon, Bright Venus and Jupiter hovering Above the skyline. The amber horizon Turned to orange and pink As scattered stars went dim. Misread the schedule and arrived Downtown three quarters of an hour Before my Electric District connection. An accidental gift to self. I ascended, ate two breakfast sandwiches I got for one dollar with a coupon, Warm in my hands on a blue picnic table. The sky grew light Above the Lake and I wandered Through Millennium Park. It was empty Or nearly, which felt the same. The sun broke the bent horizon In chrome and ice. I took some pictures, Then descended to find Track Five. The day's light revealed Hollow houses with cartoon stone applied Like paint, unable to compete For preeminence with two-car garages. The newest were bigger and offered In different colors, but all the same. Driving conditions were excellent. At sunset I stood on another platform Above a busy highway. The last rays came Through tree branches and melted Into the pale sky as they left my face. I had witnessed that sun's birth, It had warmed me while I waited for my carpool, Rested with me on a concrete planter after lunch. I entered the city in darkness A second time. Changed muddy boots For clean shoes and hurried to the museum. It was a free night, overcrowded With families and children, so difficult To find a quiet corner for contemplation, Any sanctuary for my own small soul. I descended, discovered the typewriters, then Realized you and I were already there, just In different colors, using different words, Spending school vacation to view old paintings And the Holiday Miniature Rooms. It dawned and the future was brighter even As I left the city in darkness.
0
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC
The Day of the Site Visit
The day of the site visit I hurried out at six fifteen to wait For a train with a waning moon, Bright Venus and Jupiter hovering Above the skyline. The amber horizon Turned to orange and pink As scattered stars went dim. Misread the schedule and arrived Downtown three quarters of an hour Before my Electric District connection. An accidental gift to self. I ascended, ate two breakfast sandwiches I got for one dollar with a coupon, Warm in my hands on a blue picnic table. The sky grew light Above the Lake and I wandered Through Millennium Park. It was empty Or nearly, which felt the same. The sun broke the bent horizon In chrome and ice. I took some pictures, Then descended to find Track Five. The day's light revealed Hollow houses with cartoon stone applied Like paint, unable to compete For preeminence with two-car garages. The newest were bigger and offered In different colors, but all the same. Driving conditions were excellent. At sunset I stood on another platform Above a busy highway. The last rays came Through tree branches and melted Into the pale sky as they left my face. I had witnessed that sun's birth, It had warmed me while I waited for my carpool, Rested with me on a concrete planter after lunch. I entered the city in darkness A second time. Changed muddy boots For clean shoes and hurried to the museum. It was a free night, overcrowded With families and children, so difficult To find a quiet corner for contemplation, Any sanctuary for my own small soul. I descended, discovered the typewriters, then Realized you and I were already there, just In different colors, using different words, Spending school vacation to view old paintings And the Holiday Miniature Rooms. It dawned and the future was brighter even As I left the city in darkness.
Continue reading...
49
If life is a highway then I'm afraid the only people I've met are hitchhikers waiting on the side of the road for a ride to anywhere really I stop because I could use the company and also I'll get to use the carpool lane Some passengers come and go without much effort on either part the only thing they leave behind is a slight stench But then there are the few who insist on driving and take roads to places I never thought to imagine they set up permanent residence and I am helpless in the passenger seat but as it happens with hitchhikers they merely want a ride to that better place they're going and I am just the transportation.
0
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 5:08 PM UTC
Driving in the Carpool Lane
I am prepared to caravan our Cargo across the country into New times zones. Carpool with our college friends Through rush hour traffic and back roads Without street lights or deer crossing signs. Pledge my allegiance to the Fraternity of road trippers who Believe all homes are mobile. Measure myself by interstate Mile markers—every township line We cross is an invisible stamp On the passport of my soul. Spend bathroom breaks between pilgrimages Gluing Polaroid pictures of our expedition Next to city names in our road atlas. Learn how to **** into coke Bottles in bumper to bumper Traffic between rest stops. Discover new reasons to live As the glow of brake lights guides Me toward the next exit.
0
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Road Trip
We cannot get to Happiness if we are not in the carpool lane
0
Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 12:15 AM UTC
Carpool
The day that my daughter Starts elementary school She’ll meet a little boy And he’ll join our carpool. With this little boy Tea parties she’ll have He’ll teach her to play soccer He’ll make her laugh. Together they’ll get older Through the oddest of phases But it’s my little girl The little boy always praises. They’ll go to prom Walk in hand-in-hand Each other’s secrets They’ll always understand. When the time comes He’ll ask for permission And my husband will say, “On one condition.” “Treat her well,” he’ll say. “And if you don’t I will know. She was my little girl Not so long ago.” He looked at my husband, The boy—man, I mean, And for the first time A man he seemed. He reached into his pocket And took out the ring He’d place on my girl’s hand In the middle of spring.
0
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 9:13 PM UTC
My Little Girl
In- transit housekeeper with a- beautiful name Suspicious College Park subway- people , waking replays Telltale inhabitants , blustery November- commuter stations , screaming trains Lawyers carpool south , caretakers charge- north in ***** rain Kinetic Georgia peonage channeled- through a "City too busy to Hate" ..
0
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 7:38 PM UTC
Morning Metropolis
I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry that I'm at a loss for words. I do know this. Bodies come and go. Physical living heart beats come and go. Voices and hands to type come and go. The beauty of life is that the soul transcends the physical. Bodies are vehicles for the soul. Sometimes people lose their driving license. Maybe that just means they need to carpool. Love is proven true when you feel the burn of its absence. Please remember that just because there is no voice to hear, or body to hold, or ears to listen; does not mean a person has left. Souls are silent, but they will not leave those who love them.
0
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
To All Those Who Lost a Friend
we don't dance, not tonight tonight, we are all looking a little bit more fabric than body and I've got that sort of forced smile, awkward pose, first month of high school kind of look the one with the wrong shoes, and the sweaty palms the one with his older brother's suit, and no corsage the one where we carpool so we don't dance, no, not tonight tonight is about feeling small next to the speakers about the heel breaking, the uncomfortable laughter, and the sunday school slow dance tonight is before the attitude tonight is more dress than hips, more dirt road than runway no swagger, not the middle of dance floor just a long line coming from the bathroom, and a mean homecoming queen
0
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
to a lack of experience and that song no one liked
Zibbyzabby Pontchartrain Westminster Abby Carpool lane Sixty four g No-fly zone Zingaboppy Rent-to-own. Lay down a beat Make some noise Out of my seat Girls and boys Empty calories Some free radicals Kiss your babies Separate but equal Bippilyboppidout Sannabannazoomie Half a bannable Yastagoochie. Fastagammarama Wammadammaboosa. Crestarestalini Totally organic loofa. Locomotion ocean Witchyglitchystuff Beedee essem Treatemkindarough. Hepanepa plop Simulated leather Random drug tests Keep it all together.
0
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 1:52 PM UTC
SOUND AND FURY
Cyrious. My own Spelling. Polly Wogs and Knick Knacks. Goldfish and Brac-A-Brac I remember you. I’d love for you. If it makes any sense My Thoughts Where Have They Gone? Tell you know I’D. It’s just a bridge, there is nothing here. The perfect is the biggest imperfection. I MISS THE OLD DAYS, Times of pure nostalgia It was Laughing and play all day Till we left and went our own ways. You remember it I tell you, I miss it too The fun times, When everything seemed okay everything was right. Always tell, we put each other up in a fight. I can remember when there were many AND. We had our loved ones close by. Carpool and late night swims Neighbors knocking at our door Making too much noise stomping on the floor But now, It’s gone, It’s all too quiet. Neighbors, they wonder, if I’m even here. I question, what ever happened. Life. No matter. If we’re standing still. It will go on, Without us here Little impact makes it clear. If there’s a point Please take me to it. I disappear as the last match is lit. . Silver Bands on your finger Are we the same in one? Perhaps it is no one à perhaps everything is undone. The thoughts the Thoughts. They swarm in our minds. Are they confusing? Listen to them all at once. They say Practice Makes perfect, But no one is perfect, so there is no need to Practice. Pretty Girls and Silent Boys, they all cry. The good, the bad, the inanimate, they all die. We like to think we all have our part. That when we die there is a torn up heart. But that’s not true. There is nothing to lose. For no matter how hard we try. Un-Important and Fleeting is our story, And there is nothing we can do.
0
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
Cyrious
Cyrious. My own Spelling. Polly Wogs and Knick Knacks. Goldfish and Brac-A-Brac I remember you. I’d love for you. If it makes any sense My Thoughts Where Have They Gone? Tell you know I’D. It’s just a bridge, there is nothing here. The perfect is the biggest imperfection. I MISS THE OLD DAYS, Times of pure nostalgia It was Laughing and play all day Till we left and went our own ways. You remember it I tell you, I miss it too The fun times, When everything seemed okay everything was right. Always tell, we put each other up in a fight. I can remember when there were many AND. We had our loved ones close by. Carpool and late night swims Neighbors knocking at our door Making too much noise stomping on the floor But now, It’s gone, It’s all too quiet. Neighbors, they wonder, if I’m even here. I question, what ever happened. Life. No matter. If we’re standing still. It will go on, Without us here Little impact makes it clear. If there’s a point Please take me to it. I disappear as the last match is lit. . Silver Bands on your finger Are we the same in one? Perhaps it is no one à perhaps everything is undone. The thoughts the Thoughts. They swarm in our minds. Are they confusing? Listen to them all at once. They say Practice Makes perfect, But no one is perfect, so there is no need to Practice. Pretty Girls and Silent Boys, they all cry. The good, the bad, the inanimate, they all die. We like to think we all have our part. That when we die there is a torn up heart. But that’s not true. There is nothing to lose. For no matter how hard we try. Un-Important and Fleeting is our story, And there is nothing we can do.
Continue reading...
55
Hey baby, wanna keep me warm? I can't seem to sleep if someone isn't beside me. It's the witching hours, and their bewitching powers I'm enraptured by bad decisions I only like bumming smokes from friends So I can be properly shamed I am waiting for the butterflies I'm waiting for when the time feels right Only instinct knows how to guide my soul Be friends with everyone you meet You never know who you'll carpool home with electrotango makes me sleepy when I've been out all night staring at screens after so many faces you must earn your keep here, girl or you shall suffer the consequences earn it, learn it, or you'll burn it all yeah, you're more likely to burn it all
0
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
Shiver
Dear William, It has been 3 days since you left me alone here. Your death has been one of the toughest parts of my life. That day that your mother called to tell me what happened was one of the worst days of my life. She told me, through tears of grief, that you were driving home from school when a truck hit your little car. They say that you died instantly, which gives some hope that you didn't feel any pain. What I never told her was that I asked for a ride home that day. You brought me to my house, and as usual, dropped me off with some crazy hopeful phrase. The words you said that day are ingrained in my head forever. "Don't hold anything too close to yourself, because if it gets ripped away from you, you will never recover." I guess you were right Will, I never did recover, that is why I write this to you. I could've have taken my carpool home like I should've, but I didn't. Instead I wanted to spend time with my best friend, the guy I considered family. At your funeral I will put this letter against your headstone and leave it there. The only person who needs to hear this is you, and if you hear this I will be brought to peace with myself. I only wish I could've told you one more time how important you were to me. That day you came to save me from hanging myself was one that proved that someone cared, you cared. And now I miss you more than ever. You were more than a friend, you were my savior, and that is why I will miss you more than most people will ever know. Your Brother Forever, Riley
0
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Dear William,
Dear William, It has been 3 days since you left me alone here. Your death has been one of the toughest parts of my life. That day that your mother called to tell me what happened was one of the worst days of my life. She told me, through tears of grief, that you were driving home from school when a truck hit your little car. They say that you died instantly, which gives some hope that you didn't feel any pain. What I never told her was that I asked for a ride home that day. You brought me to my house, and as usual, dropped me off with some crazy hopeful phrase. The words you said that day are ingrained in my head forever. "Don't hold anything too close to yourself, because if it gets ripped away from you, you will never recover." I guess you were right Will, I never did recover, that is why I write this to you. I could've have taken my carpool home like I should've, but I didn't. Instead I wanted to spend time with my best friend, the guy I considered family. At your funeral I will put this letter against your headstone and leave it there. The only person who needs to hear this is you, and if you hear this I will be brought to peace with myself. I only wish I could've told you one more time how important you were to me. That day you came to save me from hanging myself was one that proved that someone cared, you cared. And now I miss you more than ever. You were more than a friend, you were my savior, and that is why I will miss you more than most people will ever know. Your Brother Forever, Riley
Continue reading...
8
Star crossed, soul mates, kismet cliches! Meaningless fiction - the foundation found only on screen... Then I saw you! Standing tall and strong like a century of old- protecting your child. We two - Strangers ... planes passing in flight. Your gaze pierced deep into my soul. Dear Gods or Goddesses please be kind keep this man out of reach! No such luck cosmic joke... our sons - best friends... I carpool with your wife. no wonder she kept you hid. You became a part of my life, so near and yet so far... stolen conversations - "what if"... I live for an occasional hug A kiss on the forehead. I share with you what I never shared with the ex... Secrets, fears, food from my plate! We covet what will never be... I curse the stars that crossed our paths. Yet- "The fault lies not in the stars ...but in ourselves."
0
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
Star Crossed
She knows she's imperfect and full of flaws Not the one that would make the crowd applause, She doesn't like to wear heels and **** dresses Just a pair comfy clothes but not to look like a mess. She's not the one that blushes in every pick up lines Rather, she'll throw you joke you'll be needing your lifeline, She doesn't have expensive things every woman dreamed about But she's a real and grounded woman you can never doubt that. She wanders to places to see our beautiful nature Instead of shopping and clubbing it isn't cool, She doesn't have her own car like it's a majority rule, You'll see that's not her case, unless it's a carpool. She might not be the perfect woman you see in the drama Nor the beautiful one in every angle of your camera, But I'm telling you when she loves she knows it right To give it all and she'll do that with all her heart. She endured her bitter past that made her more matured and imperfections doesn't feel her insecure, You'll never have to worry you can be rest assured and her feelings of love are genuine and pure.
0
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
She’s the woman in love
Altamont was her ravine but her rock leave rift if timber drove her away but stove  verse finally where she's mine but her arm wore circ when carpool get through this frothy hollow again
0
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
hand-me-down
How do we as one vehicle get to something we all want? We carpool our specialisms to drive ourselves forward.
0
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
Not one part nor lots of the same drive the car forward
I sit outside of a closed library Due to certain citywide cuts This library has been closed Since June which comes Nowhere near explaining To me why the ******* Pulled in behind me So much for taking a **** Off my back bumper
0
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
Another Reason to Carpool
*like a dragon your breath lingers on my face i inhale sweet scents of cinnamon and turmeric the sweat of the days labor the ecstasy of savoring our good natures beauty resides in chambers of the mind i decline accepting favors from neighbors with grudges and axes to grind and sharpen my own knives against the silver blades of time in snowfall the descent of vision is secondary to the suspension of gravity and love has risen like reverse lightning hungering for its return to the starry eyed sorcerers selected from the mantle of antler wearing shamans the nativity is blind as a blonde from Wisconsin sonorous dulcimers depart for the auto-tune convention sing your limits like you spring for chicken dinners impossible symphonies, silent epiphanies facsimiles of days spent wading through carpool lanes with tiny elephants dressed in swimming trunks*
0
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 11:43 AM UTC
the unstruck chord
god i just feel so distant from all of you after a carload carpool back from my paradise i suddenly stopped feeling anything about you except guilty and sorry that i was there i know i did nothing (wrong) but ruin everything i used to know i would be sad if you didn’t choose me in the end but i’m not so sure anymore because it feels like i’ve stopped choosing you
0
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 11:38 PM UTC
bridesmaids
Table top deity, piggy backing best friend carpool in the morning, mourning in the evening mispronounce words from every second reading take us back to kindergarten girly hair cut my crusts imagination runs amok yet reminiscing isn't always forgiving to you
0
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
Kier
I’ve been angry so so long despite the cost, it’s familiar warm consistency keeps biting back each time letting go crosses my mind. Maybe it’s a worse version of myself grotesquely missed in those mornings I wake free from fear. Secure knowing somebody can still my rattling body when I'm too bleary eyed to spend another moment in the carpool lane. Miracles, no matter how well laid slough back toward a haze more binding than comfortable. Just close the door when there's nothing left to be.
0
May 26, 2021
May 26, 2021 at 8:49 PM UTC
Violence Bloom