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"quiant" poems
As I was walking down the road I could smeel the sweet grass: freshly mowed I saw the sun setting in the distance The blood-red glow seemed proof of its resistance The colors: red, orange, yellow, and gold All melted away so that night could unfold I felt the air collin all around me And saw the lightening bugs in front of the tree I could hear the water running down the creek past the quiant house that was so antique The glowing light from its windows Beckoned me forward from the shadows
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Apr 4, 2010
Apr 4, 2010 at 7:44 PM UTC
christy-matthews
Nightfall
As I was walking down the road I could smeel the sweet grass: freshly mowed I saw the sun setting in the distance The blood-red glow seemed proof of its resistance The colors: red, orange, yellow, and gold All melted away so that night could unfold I felt the air collin all around me And saw the lightening bugs in front of the tree I could hear the water running down the creek past the quiant house that was so antique The glowing light from its windows Beckoned me forward from the shadows
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Dictating articles On my Iphone At the nature park As I leave A man walks by with a beautiful woman Mysterious these women are And beautiful Her black hair shimmers She had a beautiful smile Don't look Don't look at beautiful things For she will be there for a few seconds And then gone On a hike with another man A man who is not me Well that's how it always is My clothes are plain My left shoulder is a bit akward I think of how beautiful she was Smiling women I have to remind myself to be carfeul I must protect myself from them My therapist smiled wonderfully Then she left me Do not wish for a female companion Be content to have nature I continue down the street A hybrid sits charging A man in his garage Listens to "Get the cool, get the cool shoe shine" This is a small town Quiant mountain town Of Sierra Madre Founded in 1882 By Mr. Carter Carter is the name of the street Where the nature park is Home of the Pinney House I passed by there earlier when I went to the mailbox Built in 1887 as one of the original railroad hotels I begin recording the birds There many sounds They seem more clear than before A parrot sits on top of the tree His, the loudest call of all Yes, this is the time of year they migrate Two people emerge a few hundred yards away Entering Sierra Madre We eventually converge I am heading west They are heading east In the far distance two walkers Walk parallel to each other Heading south A man and a woman Walk their dogs They decide not to go any further But to turn back These are the 10,000 things Who come from the same source This is the Tao
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
MattG
This Is The Tao
Dictating articles On my Iphone At the nature park As I leave A man walks by with a beautiful woman Mysterious these women are And beautiful Her black hair shimmers She had a beautiful smile Don't look Don't look at beautiful things For she will be there for a few seconds And then gone On a hike with another man A man who is not me Well that's how it always is My clothes are plain My left shoulder is a bit akward I think of how beautiful she was Smiling women I have to remind myself to be carfeul I must protect myself from them My therapist smiled wonderfully Then she left me Do not wish for a female companion Be content to have nature I continue down the street A hybrid sits charging A man in his garage Listens to "Get the cool, get the cool shoe shine" This is a small town Quiant mountain town Of Sierra Madre Founded in 1882 By Mr. Carter Carter is the name of the street Where the nature park is Home of the Pinney House I passed by there earlier when I went to the mailbox Built in 1887 as one of the original railroad hotels I begin recording the birds There many sounds They seem more clear than before A parrot sits on top of the tree His, the loudest call of all Yes, this is the time of year they migrate Two people emerge a few hundred yards away Entering Sierra Madre We eventually converge I am heading west They are heading east In the far distance two walkers Walk parallel to each other Heading south A man and a woman Walk their dogs They decide not to go any further But to turn back These are the 10,000 things Who come from the same source This is the Tao
Continue reading...
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