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YourNightLight Jan 2015
A soul just like the rest of us.
   trapped in a world so bland,
                                                        so tasteless.

May colors paint our world with neon.
                May we all find that hidden key.
The minds we once had as children ran so wild and loud!
         As if life as we knew it then would be the same forever.
But... we were wrong weren't we?
         My dreams aren't even a place of the impossible anymore, they're empty, leaving my body with enough rest to begin the next day just the same as the last.

©YourNightLight
This was a Joe Cole challenge.
Juneau I have chosen you to make a poem about because your bio. I feel is very easy to relate to and holds some emotions within itself. Oh and I think your name makes a great title (I don't know what it means but it sounds cool.)
rk Jul 2020
i saw glaciers in your eyes,
icy plains and lost streams.
i felt you fill my lungs
your salt water burning
with each new breath,
drowning in you
with every exhale.
Ken Kennedy Nov 2011
Shadow and moonlight,
Darkness and starlight,
Cool gentle breeze,
On a clear winter night.

Juneau is watching,
The stick in my hand,
Back and forth moving,
Watching her watch.

Through cold winter air,
The stick quickly flies,
Moonlight reflecting,
Watching its arch.

Up Juneau jumps,
And runs like the wind,
After that long stick,
Like a bird on the wing.
C Jul 2013
location and destination
undetermined and unknown

cell phone shuts down, battery dead
no one can find me now

I could get lost
hop on a train to Juneau, Alaska if I wanted

nobody would know or realize
vanished from society

the feeling of being completely disconnected
engulfs my soul

location and destination
undetermined and unknown
sounds like an adventure to me
b Dec 2017
no mountain too high they said
i rip the wood from the trees,
to build the road to Juneau
and bathe in the endorphin river

dry my ankles
and let them breathe the cold air
so the people know
im just a nobody

break my hands
to feel my legs again

break me down
so i can love again
Oona Sep 2016
You’re afraid of all that river,
the way that it rains so much in Florida yet
the lavish deserts in California are dying. The way that
Juneau is only reachable by plane but
you can see it perfectly fine from Google Maps.
Really, technology’s a miracle, except when
robots look like people and one day we won’t be able to
differentiate skin from slabs of metal.

Wait. You’re getting ahead of yourself.
You’ve never even met a robot, though you’ve heard that
they’re out there, manufacturing our cars,
plotting an inevitable rebellion that will **** us all—

stop. Stop! Right now, your world’s peaceful.
You're fine. It's not like you have heart disease or, god forbid,
cancer, yet you still have this unsettling feeling that
the world is going to get hit by a comet,
and maybe this is it, darkness.
Maybe this is why

you’re so afraid of fire, steel,
of ambulances, thunderstorms,
roses, smoke, modern art,
the color red,
I live in a trailer park,
beyond a decade now.

I suppose outside of here,
they're called "mobile" parks.
Here, they're trailer parks.

There is a trailer hitch,
but that ain't pulling this ***** nowhere,
no-how.

Trailers in Juneau, Alaska stand crookedly rectangular,
with a 60s/70s "I wasn't built for this ****" tiredness.

Rust, moss, fungus, dirt, cat ****:
dilapidation,
all common traits to the TP kingdom.

These are rhomboids with a forceful will
to be real homes, on steel beds with wheels,
propped up on cinder blocks, ambition, and dreams.

Modifications and additions have been nailed, and *******,
and glued and affixed in every possible manner conceivable.
An 8x4 plywood laid on a tarp to stop a leak is not a repair, but an
improvement.

These improvements make the mobile into a trailer,
flirting with that trophy ***** ******* called home.

No disrespect.

Expensive, alluring, pay-as-you can,
home ****. They'll take you for all your
worth. And smile. And so will you.

Real people **** and make love here.
They die of cancer,
go through pregnancy,
pick their nose,
do math homework,
*******,
write poetry,
*******,
do ****,
mow lawns,
hold children hostage,
make coffee,
help their neighbors,
go to vote,
make art,
***** their neighbors,
dream.

They slide their backs down the walls
of their homes in bouts of sorrow,
turning their guts into fistfuls of rocks
and despair. Heaving out their regrets
in spit and snot and fury.

They all live here.
And so do I.
silverstains on my ring finger
books annotated, written, and read by two
Gertrude Aletheia Juneau
board games and puzzles in dim light
small fists tugging the hem of your big shirt
minds thinking alike, lips speaking kind
Good morning, I love you, Good night
For the love reigning in my future. To my future husband, my future daughter, and the habitual rituals of love in our future home.
capital, Juneau
known for the worst mosquitoes
the land mammal, moose
Qualyxian Quest Jan 2023
I was in London twice
Royal Albert Hall
Taught a little Sherlock Holmes
My son hangs out at the Mall

Thomas More is curious
I hear London Calling
Like tea more than coffee
53 and falling

Thomas Merton in Kentucky
Me in Samut Prakan
She in Trappist 1
La Florida lingers on

Northern California
Southern Mexico
Juneau, Alaska
37 below

          Reno snow!

— The End —