"detour" poems
roaming colours
paint the woods
pencil feathers
ringlets echo
one after one
each flap
hues of sunlight
touch up shades
soft plumes
little hiccups
with each take off
leaves quake
wild flowers
a frisson of pleasure
swamps in
petals unfurl
a sigh undone and
sepals swell
tender sips
with rooted focus
bees detour
minds untie
as each glides by
a masterpiece
© Malintha Perera 2014
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 6:32 AM UTC
even
the beads of your sweat
warp
from the intense gravity
of those dense but sensuous orbs,
making a gentle detour
like a river,
before flowing into the whorl
of your beautifully chiseled navel
© 2022
Mar 27, 2022
Mar 27, 2022 at 10:50 AM UTC
Mr Jonah was sent to Nineveh
He head out but took a detour
Now in the belly of the beast.
Mr Jonah cannot change things overnight
Says his town's men
Who will Carry or move anything
Without power?
Obviously no one, so we need power
They also said;
That's not possible overnight.
Our palm oil is dry
No groundnut oil to fry
Nobody is buying our powerful oil
Yet we have to sell before we boil
If we don't sell something
We will not eat anything.
Our children are misbehaving
Is this the future we are saving?
Will Mr Jonah build a place
Full of tutors?
Well,that's not possible overnight
Cows everywhere
Is there no one to check these cows?
Mr check cow is busy
Burning our farms and farmers
Mr Jonah cannot stop Mr check cow
Not overnight.
365 days make a year
How many years make an overnight?
The writer coughs;
6 years makes one night.
Wait o, is 6years overnight?
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 4:41 AM UTC
Negativity is nothing more than lack of assurance and doubt
This is what this lesson in helping you to work out
It means take negativity and build into positivity
Think on Negativity being only a set back in how one feels
Usually, Negativity comes from Negativity given
It surrounds people that project Negativity because of circumstances that happened in one’s life
They are the one’s that always sees negativity, but never work in seeing life as positivity
You must look beyond your depressed thoughts, and suggest positivity
That negativity causes people to not succeed
Negativity becomes like a forbidden flood needing to reseed
A person is focusing on someone else’s feed
But negativity has no place face to face
In fact, it’s all a waste
The energy that one stresses on negativity, could be utilized on constructive positivity
Negativity is a barrier like a detour, but you are only staying in one place
No movement in a hopeful pace
If you say today, the response would be tomorrow
But what one is saying, they are drowning on sorrow
Negativity is mental, but one must move into motivational
Motivational is the action that will start you on your way
Negative people now should be your getaway
This is your lesson for today
Go and achieve in every way
Live on every day
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 6:04 AM UTC
A tug of war
It is the past experience and what was saw and felt
A word in keeping a person in line
A restriction of one’s thoughts and actions
A procedure in holding one back
******* being a form beyond one’s accord
Thank God there is a Lord
There is a chance to survive
More than a thought being a strive
I dream but all I see is a nightmare
I see effort, but when will there be preserver?
Its like a road block with detour
A method of turn back
I feel as if I am trapped in bonds
Maybe I am still sleep and need to wake up from my yond
Perhaps it’s nothing more than a dream
It’s my thinking I am in a movie stream
But its truly tough being rough
A different slavery oppression of the past with a theory of the present
A overseer continuing in present oppression
A silenced voice having no expression
The downward bound with no mountain reach
It’s time for a rebellion approach
Oppression is real and not a joke
It’s like an open wound with having a stinging poke
Oppression is alive and attempting to do well
Yet the world has a message in tell
‘OPPRESS AND OVERCOME, ITS ABOUT NO MOVEMENT AND BEING NUMB. IT TAKES MULTITUDES IN SUPPLYING THE STRENGTH, BUT ALL MUST GO THE MILES NO MATTER WHAT THE LENGTH”
Survival is how you chose to live
Its not a verb but is subjective
The voice must always be objective
Oppression cannot continue in terms in having its way
The sunrise has risen and it’s a tomorrow being a new day
These are the times to move forward and be strong
It’s a matter of all personalities of creeds in knowing how to get along
So shake whatever chains you feel you have on
Stand up and be counted where you belong
Don’t let any form of oppression hold you back
You have grasped the concept of understanding in the theory of thinking sharp being the detailed tack
Just give oppression one big smack
Listen America it’s the various cultures that stack
Oppression stand back as you have been defeated being a pack.
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
Cloud that I float on, carry me to Peru
send to me exotic birds, bearing gifts of aqua blue
Lets take a detour through the mountains of Kandahar
for it doesn't bother me if I come out with battle scars
Oh please, oh please can we stop in Dharamsala
I have some questions to ask His Holiness, the Dalai Lama
Cloud, if its possible can we please time travel?
I want to see how they built the pyramids from dirt, stone, and gravel
Lets defy gravity, next stop Andromeda
being 2 million light-years away we'll see scores of space phenomena
Our next and final stop shall be a place called peace
take me there, please cloud, but on the way lets visit Greece.
-Bobbie Leigh
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
I want a relationship
That's anything but typical
One that defies cliches
And the definition of spontaneous
I want to be so in tune with another
To the point where it feels
As though a piece of me
Has crawled its way into him
Permanently
I want a relationship
That takes a detour from anything
Stereotypical
Such as dinner and a movie for a first date
To thrift store shopping
In the streets of Seattle
At dusk
While ending the night
At a warm cozy cafe
Situated on a quiet corner
In the shadows of the city
Where poetry is either
Softly spoken
Or bitterly belted out
From within one's own soul
On a rugged beaten-up stage
With nothing but a spotlight
Mic
And wooden stool
All while we sip on tea
(Because I don't like coffee)
And reminisce on the moments
Worth remembering
That were made that day together
In between fits of laughter
While secretly dreaming
About the future ones to be made
In the comfort of our minds
As we tightly grasp our warm mugs
In front of our lips
To hide the shy smiles
That dare to make an appearance
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
For dead is where I begin, Indebted.
& that is where I’ll stay,
Despite the way I feel today
Despite my tiresome aversions
I will hang myself before the opportunity for any detour
Deter…
I will deter myself.
I will prove to myself, once again,
That I, am the master of my demise
The rue in ruin
My own failure
and then…
I’ll lay my head to rest.
For tomorrow is over.
A new beginning in which to distract away from a new
To make the same mistakes I’ve grown so familiar to…
To a broken neck, one in which reflects my irregularity
To walk with my head down…
Past the bridge of contemplation, contemplating-
suicide.
Despite refrain,
To spite restraint
To the end.
& never make it-
to the end,
My End.
I shall be received
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
Screaming
What's the use----??
Flower of the Graces
"The Tenth Muse"
"Everyday Use It"
The earth revolves
Around the sun
Minerals Love it
Drink it vitamin C
Mass of energy A-B-C
The gravity every day
We cannot use it_
Became the play money
Copied tainted not the
Bee's honey here's
The everyday economy
One lick of hope the
envelope not much
company
Everyday- Einsteins
Big profit scope
The brainstorm Reign
All signs detour cabin
Choo Choo train caboose
You nailed it the moose
One footloose
The one-man show
Two women know
The odds to their
advantage
Someone is the traitor
Mom is the Tailor
The zigzag lines
Crazy cat felines
"That's It" punctuality,
Use your capability
"Technet Technology"
take a walk favorite park
Shiba Inu rollover
The bad ones the
Millionaires homes
flip over the do
or dare
We cannot pay
NYC token fare
Words are our power
For Sale quick sales
Being sold
Too hot whats cold
Those emails trying
to delete
(More casualties
Tombstone mummies
Democracy leading us like
dummies chewing Bear
Valentine gummies)
Like the "Elephant Stampede"
New Orleans parade
Every day please donate
We never know about
our fate too early or late
Every day new Providence
Demon computer virus
Love comes with confidence
Love yourself and Venus
Apples and oranges minus
Use it You have a voice!!!
City clean up cockroaches
Swap your fake Rolex
Watchtower index
Trump tower complex
"Eiffel Tower Use It" to be kissed
Every day we need to cleanse
The "Godly Shower" be blessed
Practical Everday Use It
Magical write poetically
Precisely the right piece puzzle
You are the one
World it's you to dazzle*
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 9:54 AM UTC
Big Four Railroad
In the past a little one had an interest in this story and one of the racers and the longest freight train
The race team was in the living room and their story was being read from the paper mother clueless
We laughed and snickered about our secret that old engineer was proud of us we were not vain
Down the hill we sped past Bino’s station across Jackson the B&O; he was high balling we had to pour it
On between the two tracks he was closing the gap he had nothing to lose but his pride for us it was
Curtains the long black limo a one way ride we streaked the line fifteen feet to spare we just stopped
And turned what a salutation from the engineer half hanging out the widow of that great engine his
Balled fist a shaking you sons with the deafening roar of that train so close we didn’t get to hear the rest
And the train carried him on down the track so Jerry and Larry and the other guy continued on to the
Swimming pool pleased with our speed we forgot about it until on the front of the paper in the bottom
corner it read three Pana youths out run train I guess the old engineer cooled off as he sailed on down
The track we didn’t know he talked to the tower as he passed so we didn’t get first prize or a blue
Ribbon but in a small way we entered into the great and wonderful tales of train lore along with Jessie
and Frank I told you when in trouble I had three actions fight talk or run that day the running won the
Day for these three amigos this memory was triggered by that same old paper this time it was talking
About the Amtrak detour I remember those passengers all those years ago setting there in their seats
flying through our town and the hook and the mail sack from the tower where that old bakery could be
smelled all night all the way out at the park as we watched tables for old F.S. Refinery I’m glad we didn’t
race a passenger train or this would be a hamburger story enjoy G.H.
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:53 PM UTC
The Second Book
Forms of Pain
Losing yourself to distress,
Forgetting your own birthday,
Unrequited love,
The beauty of your rival,
Plans on a rainy day,
Vinegar on wounded skin,
Saying ‘goodbye’ again,
Roadblocks with no detour
©Copyright 2014 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
Here be dragons all old maps say
Here be dragons: beware, go'way
Noble knights and brave crusaders:
All steer clear and take detour
But whose to say these fearsome beasts
These terrible monsters of lore,
Who declared that these gentle giants
Live only to create gore
They may be misspoken for
And probably misunderstood
They could be timid gentile folk
Who dine on aether and fish
But nevermind the possibilities
Here be dragons: go'way, beware
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 5:22 PM UTC
Drive me
to the
moon and back
and maybe we can
take a detour around
the big dipper
and get lost in {the}
s p a c e
between us...
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
I heard her thoughts breathe.
said,
she needed something with Redwood patience to understand why her mind traveled with butterflies searching for Eden.
Said, she felt ants inside her dreams carrying away the dead.
wondered if there was no limits to how her heart could grow or communicate with anything.
I saw her quaking eyes search for a place to land back before the first words that God said.
She felt the masterpiece come alive at midnight it spoke beyond all languages, treaded outside of logic, flew outside of time, connected itself with everything alive and spoke to her with a simple grace.
Everything is already yours.
Your heart is the doorway home.
She took a piece of me when she left, left an ice pick for me to play with.
Her sensitive nature understood why roots dug down in a quest for warm solace.
My heart almost closed forever, I felt the final straw detour me to wasteland.
I ran emerald frontiers in her eyes,
butterflies landing on my hands
their wings stained my eyelids
I can't go to sleep without flying through her.
my heart headed to the outskirts of Eden
imagining how she is
Loving her from behind bars
Her butterflies never seeking
my garden.
It almost wilted.
Windy wrath almost destroyed it all.
I had to search the silence
Try to understand myself through a tortured past, I had to tame your tyrant that grew inside my head.
I had to bear the weight of impatient voices that I could not repeat to anybody here
but the dead already know it,
Ones that died by their own hand.
I heard her thoughts breathe
said,
our roots go past the stars
hidden in our beating blood
is the whisper and light of God.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 3:57 PM UTC
steel
oil
engineering
labor
converge
round a
Rocket 88
dead man’s
curve
prescient
precocious
capitalists
concoct
Edsels
Vegas
Chevelles
leaping
Impalas
leak
oil
staining
every
American
driveway
Pintos
chase
Gremlins
across
The Great Plains
gassing up
at
Rt 66
fillin
stations
scramblin
Midnight
Ramblers
detour to
take refuge
with Goats in
Big Sky
Indian
garages
440
Mustangs
nip
327
Stingrays
and
Mach IV
Cobras
get
snake bit
by Dart
wielding
Mopar
muscle
cars
long fins
chrome bumpers
and round fenders
still get bent in
Havana
but
Motor City is broke
nations outta gas
whole **** country
needs an overhaul
Ike Turner/Jackie Brenston: Rocket 88
Nelson Riddle: Route 66
7/19/13
Oakland
jbm
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:57 AM UTC
On the night of initiation,
curves of pale luster began to gleam unwrinkled from the darkened divots along the lunar surface
A perspective unseen for so long, it was viewed as a defaulted “wink” on the face of the moon
And therefore, forgotten, unmentioned, until it’s means were sought
From days ‘fore, and long since now dust
Scribing authors, secrete beads of frenzy into ink filled phial
Sending tremors down, into the quill tip
Filling scrolls for permanence in a preemptive defense against continuous unraveling thoughts would befall
this fluency into incoherent clutter
Pioneers of preprint in a provoking tome,
would speak educated reasons why these areas of Moon had been locked under sealed dark punishment
since Empedocles mixed cosmic elements to breed an undeniable proving truth
Exhibiting the myth of danger
alongside
The established absolute and supervening fizzling sunset
proving the existence of love...
—————————————————-
“Since I have given you words from my within
like the ecliptic rising and burning massive,
Our mutual visibility of late is either one-sided
or
short lived
I’ll take a detour around the comforts of romance
And try to talk my way into your pants
By tossing at you, letters squeezed together,
for your minds transcription into the heart of my subliminal write
In hopes you’ll feel a trickling gush
If I get really lucky these words will find you like a volcano erupts a ****
The same way water, beating against years of stone can fall
And crash through a dam with pouring force so insatiable it’s territory is marked in history
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 11:09 PM UTC
no bison on the menu
at the Buffalo; this diner
never served it
Big Mike, long gone
named it for the high shelf
on the prairie behind it
where Lakota learned
to stampede beasts over the edge, massacring
hordes without bow or sweat
the gully below,
their forgotten bone yard,
left little trace of them
save half a skull
Mike exhumed and hung on the wall
in the time of polio
before the wide whizzing interstates
when truckers still landed on his dusty lot
their rolling behemoths content in pasture
in a new millennium, the cafe highway is but
an accidental detour; the shack guarded by thistles,
long departed the Detroit steel
the truckers now in the ground, their bones
free from pillage, but the Cyclops on the wall remains,
eyeing the vacant prairie they all once roamed
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
Parallel to the storm
my beast of a motorcycle
paired with the sharp edged sensations
complimenting me with backfire
as the October cold meets my desire
to detour off my daily route
with a demand for an early rise
In the mirror I see a home
where I belong
where my lover is waiting with warmth
but for now
the cold is my journey
cruising with the noise of the roaring tires
the power of the horses
and the God-like cylinders demanding spark
shaking me and my world
while they routinely
explode petrol beneath my feet
like a heartbeat
that reminds me
- I am alive
as I pass the bridge over the frozen lake
a frozen thought melts and finds a way
from my heart to my mind
that taking comfort kills me
journeys are the only reminder
that I have lived
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 5:02 PM UTC
(... And i like you.)
We never tire
Of trying to fit everyone
Into the shape of voids
Our hearts have carved
And that's fine.
It's still not something I'd do to you.
(..And i like you)
Love has made a ghost
Out of the best of us
And we anchor to the memories
To save our entities.
And honestly who am i to judge?
But you knock new air into my dead, dusty lungs
(..And i like you)
We ache,
And we mould our ache into arts.
Abusing and devouring love,
Like scorched land tasting the first rain drop.
And I'm one of the many inked hearts.
I would leave my pen though, you make me want to.
(..And i like you)
We all have been loved,
And we all have been lonely,
Some of us feel the presence,
More when it starts to ebb.
And I've always felt myself overstaying my welcome, even before arrival.
But I'd leave my pieces on your door, as an excuse for you to call me.
(..And i like you)
We are always
looking for a replacement.
Disguising our sadness with a new skin
Trading one addiction for another; a vicious cycle.
All these temporary fixes and the perpetual sadness.
But you could be a detour from this dead-end I'm leading to.
(And i like you.)
Fistful of mosaic desires,
Confessions barely held in by my teeth
Future is easier to swallow than salvage
Your intoxicated lips smirk in agreement.
All these loving hearts with eyes askance.
But something tells me if i showed you my palm, you'd understand.
(..And i like you)
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 4:33 AM UTC
The sky is solid, gray, motionless.
Shuffling bodies with obscured shadows
Make haste for shelter
From the stark, lifeless outside
With its grass that only lives if watered,
The always leafless trees,
And the carcinogenic air.
Looking upward,
Through the smoggy haze,
One sees the neon silhouettes
Floating in the sky,
Atop the glass and steel monoliths.
They speak to those below,
Of subtle, clandestine oligarchy.
Subconsciously belittling the anonymous masses,
"We are Titans, you are rats."
Say the towers,
As the populace quietly passes over stained concrete and asphalt,
Wearing breathing masks,
Saying not a word to the thousands they pass.
We make haste in this world.
We cannot afford to help a stranger,
To make a detour with a view,
To get your child that gift they really want.
So fiercely we have been strangled
That empathy is illogical.
"What a world" we all say,
As we avoid eye contact with the hungry;
As we change the channel from the melodramatic infomercial
About starving, disease-ridden children somewhere else;
As we console ourselves with hollow entertainment and intoxication,
To keep the guilt at bay,
To keep the thoughts at bay,
"Just do what's best for you,
Don't step out of line,
Shuffle in,
Follow the queue.
That's all you can do."
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 3:46 AM UTC
die ompad is die beste the detour is the best
gedeelte van die reis part of the journey
as jy nie verlore raak nie if you don’t get lost
kan jy nie die regte pad vind nie you won’t find the right path
as jy ontmiddelik op if unexpectedly you
jou drome come upon
aankom your dreams
sal jy veras word you will be surprised
drome is soos dreams are like
'n fyn skuldery a fine painting
elke streel each stroke
van die verf of the paint
elke kleur each colour
elke toon each tone
elke emosie each emotion
uitgedink thought out
uitgebrei expanded
en dan skielik is dit and then suddenly it is
wonderlik wonderful
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
Weathered, waxy layer in wind and rain,
Droplets detour, dividing on the earthy ground.
Autumn peaks - the skeletal structure begins to emerge;
Crispy, frail webs of skin become brittle and break.
Released from the branchy cage,
The voyage begins with ebb and flow,
Rocking like a pendulum -
Momentum builds ceaselessly.
Time passes, and sand seeps
Through the hourglass,
Like droplets of glassy tears,
Shattering. Salty pools percolate
Through linen sheets.
Wind whittles aimlessly through
A boulevard of undergrowth.
The robin settles and observes,
Twittering sweet hymns
Amongst the wooden cathedrals.
A new leaf is turned.
The renaissance of Autumn awaits another year.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 8:05 AM UTC
1
I journeyed through valleys and over hills
I travelled my whole life searching for thrills.
I walked through forests and followed the star
from my humble doorstep I’ve wandered far.
I‘ve seen sunsets on fire that light the sky
white sand beaches where the palms grow so high.
I’ve seen the wild stag in dawn’s early light
dew covered flora magnificent sight.
I’ve crossed over deserts in scorching heat
sailed the world’s oceans and would not be beat.
Climbed snow covered mountains pack on my back
lived off the land there was nothing I lacked.
I followed the rivers and followed streams
the journey I’ve taken fulfilled my dreams.
2
The valleys were battlefields soaked in blood
nothing but horror souls drowned in the mud.
The forest was burning smoke filled the sky
I couldn’t see stars to be guided by.
My home is now rubble raised to the ground
I wander searching but peace can´t be found.
Red sunsets replaced with smoke blackened skies
war ravaged beaches where young men just die.
Oceans and deserts, just warships and tanks
guns on the high ground fire down on the ranks.
Rivers polluted fish dead from disease
they’ve killed all the wildlife cut down the trees.
This journey’s a nightmare of blood and screams,
War! So evil, it’s for peace that I dream.
3
I cast my eyes back from their autumn days
journey is over but memories stay.
I retrace and relive the sights I’ve seen
back through the forest as though in a dream.
Back to my home where I wish I had stayed
back to the junction where my choice was made.
Back with nature embraced in her splendour
choosing a path without any detour.
We all have a choice which path should we choose
we all choose the one with nothing to lose.
I chose goodwill, love and peace for mankind
t’was not the easiest path I could find.
The other path showed me what would have been
this second path war-torn, and so obscene.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 6:51 AM UTC
I'm looking for a hailstorm to run blindfolded through
For the sake of refief
A psychosomatic firing squad to save me
from this six by three square feet of dirt
that you have left me
I now drag behind myself
I have taken this earth
and sculpted it in your likeness
I am Pygmalion praying to the moon for love
but instead I get rain
and as the picture of Her and perfect summers
falls apart like mud through my finger
I clasp and grasp and gasp
and when the rain stops
I am left on my knees in the mud praying with open hands
my skin is baptized so clean my scars shine
Now as the pieces of a heart are returned to us
twisted and unwanted and rearranged like a Rubix cube
by the hands of past lovers
who we knew too fast and promised so much
but didn't care enough
to figure out our combinations
or to hold the secrets contained or the dreams cradled
in this human-sized box
I guess no one thought to tell them
that if you plan to be a past lover
return what you have found just as you have found it
and walk backwards
that the image of you walking away from me may not haunt me in the mornings
and I can make believe you are returning to me at night
but even the stars rearrange themselves
destiny can be rewritten
let what remains of my days be it's pages
in an infinite number of realities I am still happy with you
in an infinite number of realities I am tragic without you
but in this reality I may be happy without you
I'm kicking open my wardrobe and cleaning it out of all the shadows
I'm putting on a new jacket, a new hat
but I'm keeping my old shoes
for I will not forsake the path
all the roads that once only led to you now lead from you
thank you for the detour
I'm looking for new hands to run through forests with
new arms in which to build a home in
a girl to jump on bed sheets with
and a shoe box in an attic to bury you in
For this heart will grow and one day I will see
through an unbroken stained-glass window
you were just another piece of me
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 4:50 PM UTC