Imagine a Person
just like you
living parallel to you
their life a parallel line to yours
a Person who finds the same thrills as you
loves nothing more than your favorite artist
your passions exactly the same
living your life
singing your songs
painting your paintings
a Person so uncannily made for you
someone that you would instantly click with
someone that would watch sunsets with you
someone you would never let go of till the day you die.
someone impossible
because you just never quite meet
someone you just miss by some cruel circumstance
and you'll always miss them
because you see the thing about parallel lines
they never meet
CK Baker Feb 2017
There were dividing lines
between springfield
and mariners gate
soft, subtle lines
that spoke of origin
and code
and biting union

it was all
the reason
for being ~
to be alive
and living
dead or dying
deep in a pack
of pint size resistors
hell bent on the
marsh crow
and cannabis tower
jumping the rush
with pot shots
and anchors
and tribunals

camouflage creepers
and transient floaters
marked rebellion at the gates
(skullduggery and taunt
high on their favor list)
jack straws and flat paddles
for the evening charade
beakers and flailing hands
from the foot washing baptist
(the pleasant street conservatives with their
own something to say…“there’s gonna be hell to pay!”)

there's a
lingering effect
to this sentiment
(evident in the pump house stride)
the river winds
blow gently
into the night
and the huddling packers
and scat backs
chase the evening hours

it’s a bitter sweet
end of an era ~
those traction bars
hood scoops
and nickel bags
will always
be the rage
sophia Oct 2017
I could travel from miles away holding the same book but the feel of every page will never grasp my heartfelt grip of this certain chapter and i’m not moving on, never again.

he’s my favourite story.
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