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"riverwalk" poems
I saw a sign that said, I spent all my money on scotch, women and guitars. The rest  I just wasted My life will probably be the same way Except knowing my luck I'll **** around and have the strings misplaced Men never really grow up our toys just get more expensive As a guy I can attest to this I went from being content with action figures Legos and my N64 To guitars cars and rollerblading on the Riverwalk under the bridges It's funny how that happens How materialism changes how we see the world But pursuing all the finer things Wanting champagne wishes and caviar dreams Makes you forget the madness that truly comprises the earth
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 3:18 PM UTC
A man and his guitar
take a walk to air out my skull the summer on a week long break no sweat forming on the brow the cemetery almost empty on this Saturday Morning graves, mausoleums, and monuments as far as the horizon will carry them all contained by the twisting limbs of great ancient trees I am worrying about things like the rent and the electricity bill and the milk and sugar azucar y leche and how many cigarettes I have been smoking these men and women will never be alive again to worry about such silly things victims of the civil war brother against brother victims of the passing of time breath against breath one and all strolling down riverwalk ave the old train tracks running along the spine of the James always flowing streaming as birds dip in and out of the banks and the shin high grass sways with the music of pleasant mornings and see a family small children running up the grass hills only to sprint back down at double speed not a moment spent out of breath and I think back to that time when we found a quiet corner and let the lighter light up a bowl or two for the dead homies and how much we laughed when one of us fell and how much we gasped when we saw the small tent village of homeless people living in the wooded outskirts their clotheslines bare in the gentle breeze How insane it is that we should all walk through this park the scent of what life promised us fresh in the air as we lazily stroll through a vast field of corpses immortalized through monumental history
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Hollywood (Cemetery)
take a walk to air out my skull the summer on a week long break no sweat forming on the brow the cemetery almost empty on this Saturday Morning graves, mausoleums, and monuments as far as the horizon will carry them all contained by the twisting limbs of great ancient trees I am worrying about things like the rent and the electricity bill and the milk and sugar azucar y leche and how many cigarettes I have been smoking these men and women will never be alive again to worry about such silly things victims of the civil war brother against brother victims of the passing of time breath against breath one and all strolling down riverwalk ave the old train tracks running along the spine of the James always flowing streaming as birds dip in and out of the banks and the shin high grass sways with the music of pleasant mornings and see a family small children running up the grass hills only to sprint back down at double speed not a moment spent out of breath and I think back to that time when we found a quiet corner and let the lighter light up a bowl or two for the dead homies and how much we laughed when one of us fell and how much we gasped when we saw the small tent village of homeless people living in the wooded outskirts their clotheslines bare in the gentle breeze How insane it is that we should all walk through this park the scent of what life promised us fresh in the air as we lazily stroll through a vast field of corpses immortalized through monumental history
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51
I could tell you how the Square looks sketched in moonlight; I know the smell of mist fresh off the river, and night air that parts like tired curtains, with wet heat that sighs and slaps the dock when you move on; I’ve felt what a saxophone does to the heart over water, and how a man’s voice sounds best after smoking, but a woman’s is best after *** There are ghosts in these streets, but they don’t hunger anymore; hunger is for the living not satisfied with light.
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Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 11:45 AM UTC
Riverwalk Night Stroll
"Overlook San Antonio Riverwalk" A line I wrote In quiet inspiration. Now memories flood through In a dreary Ohio night I see the winding Riverwalk In the corners of my mind These memories are quick & scarce Unable to reach full maturation Young notebook in which I write I trust in you to allow my Thoughts to flow And I will overlook San Antonio Riverwalks Of the mind Till I return again
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 12:35 PM UTC
On a Marriott Veranda (a line revisited)
*I walked as far as I could Off the beaten path Between the weeds and overgrowth Next to the river I found a fountain I found a spot that felt like home I stayed just to listen To feel my heart beat once again I forgot what it was like to feel alive I don't know how to be me More like me The girl I know is trapped inside*
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Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 6:49 PM UTC
Riverwalk
by Terrell Morrow Motown tune harboring, Automobile industrial base vicarious drive, Downtown city lighting life-giver of struggling spirit, Red-winged-angel-singing city I call home. They tell me we can’t keep it together, I fight for your honor trying to ignore the families I’ve seen ripped apart Through the pressure of financial stress that weighs down the strength Of even the toughest of Pistons. Even though I’ve seen the happiness of children ripped away Transcending from that signing purple colored dinosaur To the morning sounds of hums, I’ve heard a remembrance of the happiness of people ripped away By purple colored gangbangers. I say to those who don’t see the fury in our eyes, That burns with the blaze of a 1967 riot, Is the truth of our history: Our city, our home, our tears, From the very moment you set foot on that Riverwalk And see the Princess set sail to a dream on a bank of beauty As the waters part like Moses’ path. We are but mere underdogs with the purest of waters. The product for which they lust for the thirst in which we quench An essence for which we must for the fist in which we clench As we fight our endless battles and the Hells we’ve created in Paradise Vallies As we walk through the valley of the shadow of death-toll population Hand-in-hand generations that shine like sons of the son. Yo, show me a city that’s aware of its oblivion, And simply relaxes like my hometown, Detroit.
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Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
Detroit
you had to have known it hurt. you had to have. I could’ve drowned myself in anything but of course it had to be you. and this shouldn’t break me but this broke me. and I felt nothing because you made me numb and I swear that i’m done I always swear that i’m done. and you know I like your hair long and you know I hate it when you look at me like that but you always look at me like that and I drown every single ******* time because that’s what they do to you and you let them do it.
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC
The Last Bench on the Riverwalk
I am from the  falls of new hope the buffer zone from 15 minutes any direction I am from the backroads from the meeting of two hills And cities, several others I am from nowhere, yet I am close to everything I am from the riverwalk, where the red wolves wander From bare feet and wet clothes From an acre, from a forest I am from the chaos and unconditional welcoming From mint chocolate chip ice cream and spaghettios from doors that don’t lock Large pots, lots of cars and six of everything I am from home, not a place but a feeling I’m from the honeysuckle I’m from coffee and tea I am from separation and celebration “each end is a new beginning” I’m from the falls of new hope The one with the cherry tree the magnolia mailbox out front
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Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC
i am from
You know, i am living between blood and bone; a little swimmer suddenly so alone sinking deeper and deeper until the unknown is home. And i stay here as you breathe out there; because one day i believe this will all make sense, one day i'll have my riches; spoiled rotten right down to the core. Nevermore, you caw; my muscles tied in knots; knock, knock my brain rattles, rattles, until it tips over and falls. We were here all along,-- except i prefered to stay lost. You know, I am stuck between blood and bone.
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Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 11:11 PM UTC
riverwalk
Spaniards voice Culture scents San Antonio, Texas was my vacation My account being my personal proclamation The enriched history inspired me being pure rejuvenation Here is my presentation Do you know what San Antonio in Texas means? Saint Anthony So what’s in a name could be a person born with the same My exploration took me on tour of all the highlights that made San Antonio, and why it is a major city It was Medical Centers, Universities, and San Antonio Zoo, which I witnessed from an Aerial view I even visited the famous, “ALAMO” The Mexican Spanish War fighting for independence But there is a unique side of San Antonio, and it is the “RIVERWALK” It’s those floating taxi’s that bring the Riverwalk alive and extends into the suburbs Yet, there is a European atmosphere culture at the Café’s at the Riverwalk edge You hear the serene tempo music of Violin’s acquaint sunset going down and the evening air sets the stage for a romantic evening under the stars and moon This is all happening at all Café’s tables as you wine and dine Enchanted as I was, I took in all the San Antonio accord I stayed Seven days at the Holiday Inn Riverwalk in Downtown San Antonio, Texas So you know my Folio It was a venture of delight Those Texans know how to shed light Friendly citizens within San Antonio, the city Having to return back home to New York City was my pity.
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May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 3:26 PM UTC
MY SAN ANTONIO ******