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Tom McCone Mar 2014
dunedin. friday, three, afternoon.
set from home under a blue sky
with full& prepared pack,
a somewhat empty stomach,
and a necessity to get away from the city.
hiking boots tread asphalt down to the depot,
where, in thirty-seven minutes punctuated
by plastic seats grafted to a wall
and a mildly disjunct group of small or
big-time travellers, the naked bus
pulled in, a hematite centipede
crawling into the lot. it was a bus,
no complaints. all others' bags
stowed, twenty seven bucks outta pocket
and swung into the front-right-window seat,
bid a farewell to the beat-down
pub across the road and onto the one-way
merging into a highway and outta
town the dark bug skittered, on
schedule or something resembling it.
behind the driver, the sun came through
around the beam in the window. warm patterns
laid on skin, the countryside's broad expanse:

cylindrical bales of hay scattered about
paddocks, dark late-autumn florets of flax
on roadsides, plumes of white smoke from
bonfires in townships as small as a thumbnail,
hedgelines of eucalyptus, pine; russet streaks
through bark of single gum trees stood
off-centre in fields. sticky-wooded hillsides
punctured by fire breaks roll almost forever
and back. the rushing sound of passing cars
through the 3/4-golden ratio of the driver's
ajar window; twenty-first century mansions
verging on out-of-place. saplings emerging,
bracketed, through verdant grass patches.
museum abbatoirs. toitoi like hen's plumage
lining drainage ditches. another Elizabeth st-
(how many could be counted out by now?) tidy
front yards and milton liquorland through this
small town. an everpresent tilting sun. fields
of flowered nettle. s-bends through pancake layers
of hills. a delapidated gravel quarry at stony
creek. deer farms, sheep farms, bovine farms, alpaca
farms (favourite); another bonfire seen down a
long gulley; a power substation, all organized
tangles. a two-four 300m before the bridge into


balclutha. 4.40pm.
across the road into the i-site
two friendly ladies circle locations
to make (got a car) or try to make (on foot),
offering a ride in half an hour,
leave it to chance.
across another road, drifter's emporium
(that's the name, no joke) got a knife
to open up cans- bought no cans, brought
no cans, still nice to have one anyway.
down the road, 200ml from unichem, waste
no time, turn ninety degrees, cross a
railway, then outta town in a sec. first
photo: half highway, half clutha river. fine
shot. sit down, watch the water couple mins,
head down the road. red-black ferns radiate
under willows down the riverbank. metal
bumper-bars keep legs on, the road rolls
gentle turns, diverges from the river. stick
to the former, faster that way. no intentions
of hitching. just wanna walk. and walk. and
walk. guy yells out a car window. envy,
likely. who cares. apple tree hangs over
a dry ditch. pick a small one, gone in
a minute. probably ain't sprayed. been
eating ice-cream dinners more often'n
not the last coupla weeks- isn't much
the stomach won't or can't handle anymore,
anyway.

odours of decay from the freezing works.
seagulls sound out nearby.
typical.

down the road, the reek of death fades
out. back to grass. sit in some of the
tall stuff, under a spindly tree. put down
some ink, a handful of asst. nuts. 'bout
thirteen fingers of daylight left. no idea
if the coast is further than that. little
care. down the road the land flattens out,
decent sign. the junction was a fair bit
past reckoned, though. flipped a chunk
of bark (too lazy to get a coin out) to
figure whether the coast was worth it. bark
said no, went out anyway. gotta see the sea,
keeps you sane. past a lush native
acre or two- some lucky ******'s front lawn-
changed mentality, slung out a thumb (first
time). beginner's luck, kid straight outta
seventh form pulls over in a mustard-yellow
*******' kinda beach-van. was headin' out
to the coast, funnily enough. had been up
in raglan (surf central, nz), back down with
the 'rents now, though. out kaka point, only
one of his age, he reckoned, no schoolhouse
there, just olds. was going to surf academy,
pretty apt. little envious.

the plains spread out and out, ocean just
rose up out of a field. there's nothing
more perfect. gentle waves stroke the sands,
houses stare intently out at the mingling of
blues. one cloud hovers so far away it doesn't
even exist. down the other end of kaka point,
back on solid ground, walking into a gorge, laments
about not choosing the coastal route. but owaka
is the new destination, bout 11ks, give or take
(5ks later, sign says another 15.. some give). nothing
coulda beat that sight anyway, stepping outta
a van onto that pristine beach.

entry: gorge route to owaka. seven.
late light painted the tops of hills absolute
gold. thought maybe this way ain't so bad. beside a
converging valley, phone got enough reception
for dad to get through. said in balclutha coulda
got a room with a colleague. too far out now. lost
him in the middle of a sentence about camera film.
surprised to have even got that far. road wound
troughlike through the bottom of the gorge, became
parallel to a cute little stream. climbed down chickenwire
holding the road in place, ****** in it (had to).
clambered back up, continued walking as the occasional
campervan rolled on by. took a photo of the sun perched
on a hilltop, sent it to mel. dunno why. anxieties
over the perfect sunrise picture came frequently,
a goal become turmoil. the gorge flattened out,
and soon in countryside my fears allayed. round
a corner in picturesque nowhere, found my shot.
sat in long grass. stole it. sighed. ate a handful
of nuts. moved on. {about eight}

dark consumed the surrounding gentle-rolling hills,
nowhere near owaka, which was probably the tiny bundle
of lights nestling a little below the foot of a
mountain in the distance (not too far off, in
reality). near the turnoff to surat bay (was heading
there, plans change) a ute honks. taken as friendly.
a right turn instead of a left, farmsteads lit
up in fireplace tones, the sound cows make at
dusk. it got colder. would one jersey be sufficient?
hoepfully. stars began pinpricking the royal blues of the
night sky in its opening hues. eight-fourty-ish slugged
back about 3/4 of the syrup, along with half of a box
of fruit medley (so **** delicious), in light of dull
calf aches becoming increasingly apparent. needed
to walk a helluva lot more. ain't one for lettin'
nothing get in the way of that. lights in the distance
became the entry sign for a camp-site. no interest,
head on. past another farmhouse, stars came out in
packs. three cows upon a slight hilltop. next junction
pulled left a good eighty degrees and was on the
straight to owaka. less than two minutes later,
a dog-ute pulled to a halt and offers up a ride down
most of the stretch. didn't say no.

still stable, as two pig-hunters tell
of their drive back from picking up a couple
pig-dogs somewhere north. they were heading
out bush to shoot, thought they'd seen
another guy they'd picked up a couple weeks
ago, who'd taken 'em out somewhere they
couldn't remember. paranoia grips, but
the lads are fairly innocuous. they say it's
dangerous out here, gotta be ballsy walking
middle of the night, no gun, no dog,
all by yourself. wasn't worried, got nothing
to lose anyway (still, this sets helluva
mood). by a turnoff a k outta owaka, dropped
off. said probably all that'll be open there
is a pub, if that. bid luck and set their way.
above, the whole sky is covered with shining
glitter. down a dip and turn, **** in the
middle of the road. an ominous sign indicating
the outskirts of

owaka. approximately 9.40pm

my head loosens as i approach. the lights
form across a small valley i can't verify
exists or not between dog barks i mistake
for the yells of drunkards and lights
pirouetting from cars behind me. i slow
down i don't want to do this.

owaka is terrifying. plastic.

the street corners thud like cardboard. i
walk past a garden of teapots, a computer
screen inside the house glares through the
window pane bending breathing outward. there
is nobody here, still there is a feeling
like there's people everywhere, flocking
in shadows. a silhouette moving in a
distant cafe doorway. the sound of teeth,
of darkness fallen. thick russian tones
sound from a shelf of a motel. eyes
everywhere, mostly mine. i stop only round
a bend and down near a police station, yet
feeling no more safe, sitting in a gutter to
send mel my plans, to tell myself my plans.
i want to be nowhere again. i am soon nowhere.


out of breath, out the other end of owaka,
the sick streetlights fade into comforting
dark nestled between bunches of indistinct
treelines. the feeling of safety lasts but
twenty minutes, where another dip in the
road leads through a patch of bush, in which
gunshots ring periodically and laughter and
barking rings through. breaking down, it takes
five minutes to resolve and keep going. ain't
got nothing to lose, anyway. boots squeak like
diseased hinges all down the road. hadn't
noticed beforehand, the only thing noticed
now. an impending doom hangs thick like fog,
the thought of being strung up like an
underweight hog. walking faster and
not much quieter, the other side of the
bush couldn't have come sooner. the fear
lasts until the gunshots are distant nothing.
still alive, still out of breath, still
fairly ****** up, there's no comfort like the
sound of nothing but the occasional insect's
chirp. vestiges of still water came around
a corner and just kept coming as the golden
moon sung serenity all over. finally, a peace
came to rest over the landscape. sitting by
the road with a clear view of the moon's light
sheathed in the waters, the stars above wreath
a cirrus eye to watch over the marshland
plants leading into the placid waters of

catlins lake, west. ten fifty-one.
crossing a one-way bridge over a river winding
its way into the lake, another turning point
decision arose: continue down the highway
along the river, or head straight out and
toward the coast again. having resolved to
make it to a waterfall by dawn, and the latter
offering a possibility of this, the decision
made itself. turning back around the other side
of the lake, the road wound a couple times
up a gentle ***** out and up from the valley
at the tail of the lake, and into a slightly
more elevated valley. the country roads ran
easily and smooth, paved roughly but solid.
not a car came by for kilometers at a time.
lay on the road past a turnoff for quarter
of an hour letting serenity wash over, the
hills miniscule in comparison to home, the
sky motionless, massive thin halo about the
moon. walking on, night-birds called from
time to time (no moreporks, though. not until
dawn), figuring out how to whistle them back.
a turnoff to purakaunui bay strongly
considered and ultimately ignored; retrospectively
a great call, considering the size of the detour.
hedgerows of macrocarpa, limbs clearly cut
haphazard where once they'd hung over the
road. occasional 4wd passing, always a 4wd,
be it flash new or trusty old. you'd need
one out here. have no fun, otherwise.
monolithic pine-ish hedge bushes, squatting
giants. once, a glimmering in the sky, a
plane from queenstown (assumedly) almost
way too far to make out. the colossus of
the one human-shaped shadow cast down
from the moon to my boots. how small
a thing in this place. swamped out by
the beauty of this neverending valley.
breathless.

the road turned, not quite a hairpin,
but not entirely bluntly, a welcome
break from the straight or gentle
sway, and five minutes turned to dirt.
had to lay down again- legs screaming
by this point for rest. still, they
had nothing against pressing on. dad
taught me to just keep going. that's
the thing about walking. stop for a
little bit and you're good to go
again. pushing for the fall was probably
overkill, but no worry now. dirt road
felt so right after a good 20+ks of
asphalt, only infrequently punctuated
by roadside moss or thin grass. it
was as if beginning again (well,
kinda, if only with as much energy).
having downed only a litre of water
(leaving only half a litre more), a
litre of fruit juice and about 100
grams of assorted nuts since more
than twelve hours ago by this point,
it should have been a shock to
still be going by this point. don't
really need that much anyway, though.
gone on less for longer. hydration,
anyway, was the least of all worries,
the air being thick with water, ground
fog having been laid down hours ago.

up the dirt track, more cows. they make strange
sounds at night. didn't know anything yet,
though. that's still to come. a ute swang past
going the other way, indiscriminate hollers
from the passenger-side window. waved back
cheerily. so far from anything to be anything
but upbeat now. not even the heavy shroud of
tiredness could touch that, yet. the track wound
on forever. was stopping every half-kilometer
to stand and stretch, warding off the oncoming
aches. the onset was unwieldy, though. didn't
have long. past a B&B;, wondered whether anyone
actually ever stayed there (surely would, who'd
not revisit this place over and over once they'd
discovered it?)- certainly would've, having the
cash (apparently parts of "lion, witch and the
wardrobe" were filmed here. huh). further on, the
road turned back to seal, unfortunately, but
with small promise- surely, at least fairly
close by this point. turning a corner, a small
and infinitely beautiful indent against the bush,
a small paddock bunched up against it, stream
wound against the bases of trees, all lit by
the clear tones of a now unswathed moon, sat
aside the road. it was distilled perfection.
it was too much, just had to keep goin' or
risk shattering that image. next turn was
a set of DOC toilets, an excellent sign. must be
basically sitting on the path entry now. searched
all 'round the back for it, up the road, nothing.
not entirely despondent but bewildered, moved
forward and found a signpost. the falls were now
behind? turned around and searched even more
thoroughly, quiet hope turning to desperation
by the silent light of the moon. finally,
straight across the road from the toilets,
was the green and gold sign, cloaked in
darkness under clustering trees, professing
a ten-minute bushwalk to the

purakaunui falls. saturday. 1.32 am.**
venturing into the bush by the dull light
of a screen of a dying phone, the breeze
made small movements through the canopy. it
couldn't have been any more tranquil. edging
way through the winding cliffish track through
dense brush, the sound of a trickling stream
engorged into a lush symphony of water. crossing
a single-sided bridge across an unseeable chasm,
twinkling from the ferns behind became apparent.
turning off the dull light, the tiny neon bulbs of
glow-worms littered the dirt wall risen up about
half a metre, where the track had been cut out.
my heart soared. all heights of beauty come
together. continuing down the path, glow-worms
litter the surroundings and the rushing of
water comes to a roar. at a look-out platform
above the falls, nothing can be seen save a
slight glisten. down perilous steps (wouldn't
be too bad if you could actually see 'em) the
final viewing platform lay at level with the
bottom of the falls. they stood like a statue
in the dark, winding trails of thin white wash
through the shadows hung under trees. left
speechless from something hardly made out, turned
around and back up the stairs to where the
glowing dots seemed their most concentrated.
into the ferns above, clambered through and
around moss-painted tree trunks and came to rest
a couple hundred metres from the trail, under
a fern, under a rata. packed everything but
a blanket from nan into the bag, laid it out
on curled leaf litter and folded up into it,
feet too sore to remove 'em from boots, curling
knees up into the blanket and tucking a hand
between 'em to keep it warm. only face and
ankles exposed, watched the moon's light trickle
through canopy layers for a few hours, readjusting
tendons in legs as they came to ache. sleep (or
something resembling it) set in, somewhere
around four.

some time slightly before six, the realisation
that my legs had extended and become so cold that
they'd started cramping all the way through hit,
coupled with the sounds coming through the bush.
thank you, if you made it all the way through :>
i hate road rage in canberra because



i hate road rage in canberra because

mostly the road rager is at fault

i hate road rage in canberra because

because my mum was just turning and some dim wit sticks his finger up, how rude

i hate road rage in canberra because

it ****** me off immensely

road rage road rage i hate road rage

cause the road rage person doesn’t know what they are talking about

it’s not just road rage, ya see ya see, it’s everywhere

you say something or do something

and someone sticks their finger up at you

like a good little **** would actually do

road ragw road rage road rage sux

the only rage i like is partying late at night

you see i am a middle aged rager

i rage all day long but when it comes to road rage, na, not for me

i party better than any of these road rage people

the road ragers are just a pack of old stick in the muds

they think they are cool, sticking their fingers up

but in hindsight, they no nothing

you see i hear the loud hey, but that is from people who like road rage

which i ain’t, what is wrong with hating road rage

that is why i don’t drive, i am a kid and the road ragers are old fogie men or women

i have road rage in canberra because, nobody wins, it’s all just a waste of time

i am glad i don’t drive, i am a cool kid mate
C G Andrews Mar 2012
You got to find a way to live your life
Happy on your own
Love will only work my friend
When you're happy all alone

When you try to base you life
On a fleeting chance at love
You'll find yourself down in a hole
Unable to rise above

Listen to me my friend
I been down that lonely road
Rollin' down
Rollin' down
Rollin' down that lonely road
Rollin' down
Rollin' down
Rollin' down that lonely road

Then I found a way to stop
Lookin' for that little thing
That will fabricate that fallacy
That reality will never bring

And when I stopped to search for love
Love found me instead
It filled my heart and filled my soul
And it fixed my broken head

So listen to me my friend
I been down that lonely road
Rollin' down
Rollin' down
Rollin' down that lonely road
Rollin' down
Rollin' down
Rollin' down that lonely road

There's just one more thing I need to say
So that you'll truly know
You got to find a way, my friend
To shove your demons down below

So if you've put to rest my friend
The seeds that you have sewed
You'll finally find a way to leave
That ****** up lonely road

So listen to me my friend
I been down that lonely road
Rollin' down
Rollin' down
Rollin' down that lonely road
Rollin' down
Rollin' down
Rollin' down that lonely road

I been down
Rollin' down
I been down
Rollin' down
Rollin' down that lonely road

Now I'm off that road
Off that road
Off that road
Off that ****** up, low down, *****, lonely road
Janelle Apr 2018
[Intro]
Am I supposed to be here, can you help me?
Do you see something I don't see?
Is it the road, that leads to the end?
Where is the road, that leads to the end?

[Verse 1]
Day in, day out, changeless
Long gone is praise
I've spent too much time waiting
Is it true, failure's really a phase?
Has my time run out?
Is it too late?
I am begging you, tell me.
I'm begging tell, me of my fate ay ay ay.

[Chorus 1]
Is this the road to the end?
I've been searching far and wide.
Where is the road to the end?
Where will I find my pride?
Searched up and down.
Around and round.
Searched here and there.
Please tell me where.
Is this, right here, this,
The road to the end?
Marching 'round the bend.
The end
Marching round the bend

[Verse 2]
I'll get this started.
Now is the time.
I got to do this.
I'll start the climb.
The mountains daunting.
But even so.
She has her feelings.
She has her woes oh oh ohs.

[Chorus 2]
Is this the road to the end?
The journey sure is long.
Is this the road to the end?
Is this where I belong?
Gone up and down.
Around and round.
Gone here and there.
Please tell me where.
Is this, right here, this,
The road to the end?
Myself I can depend
The end
Myself I can depend

[Verse 3]
Purpose, found it.
Hone it.
Faster, quicker.
Own it.
I think I made it.
I have a smile.
And I deserve it.
I've walked the miles iles iles iles.

[Chorus 3]
You need the road to the end?
Is there someway I could help?
Where is the road to the end?
It all starts with yourself.
Just stay right there.
Don't go nowhere.
That's where it starts.
Right in your heart.
That’s where, right there, where,
The road to the end is,
Soon you'll apprehend
The end
Soon you'll apprehend

[Bridge]
You can't have a rainbow without any rain,
But sometimes the storms, they can drive you insane,
Before you give up from the pain and disdain,
It's never too late to hop on the A-train.

[Chorus 4]
Is this the road to the end?
Have I really found my pride?
This is the road to the end.
I'm on a brighter side
Searched the whole globe
Met friends and foes.
Finally made it.
The curtains close.
This, right here, this,
Is the road to the end.
Marching round the bend.
The end.
Myself I can depend.
The end.
Soon you'll apprehend.
The end.

[Outro]

I'm supposed to be here, I can help you,
I see something you'll soon view,
I know the road, that leads to the end.
We'll hit the road, that leads to the end.
Song lyrics I wrote for a school. I really appreciate feedback.
Brandon Apr 2011
This road leads to nowhere
This road I’ve already been upon
This road leads me back to where it all started from
This road I have never laid my eyes on
This road is full of good memories
And this road is one of bad memories
This road is longer than the rest
This road is more of a sidewalk
This road is made of water
This road doesn’t exist…yet
This road is a product of man
This road has yet to be paved
And this road is the road that I have chosen
Jennifer Staples Mar 2014
Road of Life
Slippery from the ice that lay’s under the thin sheet of snow. I can hear the distant sounds of animals that I can’t even imagine naming. This road is long and narrow, it even has it’s occasional twists and turns. There seems to be houses that look vacant, however, they only appear every two to three hundred feet. Those two to three hundred feet feel like miles. I feel as though I have been stuck on this same road for years instead of hours, or has it been minutes, I guess I will never know. I saw one other person walking on this same road, he passed me on the opposite side of the street. But, when I turned around to get another glance he was gone.

2. Key of Knowledge
I continue to walk down this road and stumble upon a key. Who just leaves a key sitting in the middle of the road? Especially this road when it seems nobody even lives in these houses, not to mention that I haven’t seen a car pass me once. The key seems to have a name on it “ Dorothy.” The name is engraved in it. The key is what looks to be a bronze color with an almost puzzle piece like end to it. I wonder what it goes to maybe a diary or a hope chest. Either way I don’t think I really want to know that badly. I put in pocket anyway and continue on down the road.

3. Cup of Emotions
I get maybe a couple hundred feet from where I found the key, and then out of the corner of my eye I spot a cup. I go over and look at it even though I don’t really know why, I mean it’s a cup. Maybe it’s because of this road snapping at my senses. Anyway, I look at it and it seems to be a class cup that looks like it has been hit with rain a lot because of it’s yellowish,with a pale tan tint to it. It’s not broken so I pick it up and break so that way I can use it as a weapon or a tool if I need to protect myself or find food if I am on this road any longer. I say this as my stomach growls so loud it echoes off of the tree’s.

4. Tree of Relationships
In the faint distant I can see a broken down tree. It doesn’t look to be too big, however, as I am getting closer it seems to be getting bigger. Even though it isn’t big enough that I couldn’t lift it up and move it so that it’s not in my way and any car that decides to drive on this road, not that there will be. So I pick up the farthest end that is in the road and I drag it back towards the side of the road, this thing is heavier that it looks. I end up having to use my feet to kick the tree over a bump in the road, I should have worn better sneakers instead of my converses. I eventually get it to go over the bump, after numerous attempts, then finally the job is done and the tree is out of mine, and whoever decides to drive down the roads, way.

5. Wall of Death
First there was a tree in my way and now there is a wall. I can’t even find the top of it, or the ending to it. The reason I can’t see it is because I don’t think it’s even a normal wall. It seems to be made out of glass or plastic, I can see through but there is no way of getting on the other side of it. I am so frustrated at this stupid road and all of the things I have found, heard, and seen that I need to take my anger out on something. I punch the wall as hard as I can, and it shatters. A couple of pieces fell out of it, but instead of seeing a way through it I found a backing to it. This was no ordinary road, this was no ordinary wall, obviously. Then it hits me, this wall was a mirror. Instead of seeing through it I was looking at what I have already accomplished walking down this road. However, now I am stuck with nothing left to do but go back the way I came.
The thing is we had to write about a road, key, cup, tree, and finally a wall. Everything in the paragraphs are only about those 5 things. Then we found out what those things were to us. The funny thing to me was that all of mine were true about how I view these things. Enjoy and if you want to do this, I totally suggest it because you may learn a lot of things about yourself.
Roman Pavel Jan 2016
As I put on the sandals made of red
I embark on a journey where the past I’ve shed
I follow the yellow brick road

It twists and turns, windless and winds
Around the bend and toward the skies
Over the seas and into a new land
With my family hand in hand
I follow the yellow brick road

And on this road I find a ball
That entertains me through it all
I share and play with those around
Through the air or on the ground
Kicking, hitting, bouncing, throwing it up and down
I follow the yellow brick road

As I walk I meet a fork
And don’t know which way to go
But which ever way I go
I know I’ll find
The place I want to end in space and time
So I take a left and keep my course
As I follow the yellow brick road

I encounter on my voyage there
People that can help me bear
The burden that I care
Of all the deaths I’ve seen
On the path that I have been
I follow the yellow brick road

I reach a high and reach and low
Nevertheless I know where I shall go
I hit some bumps and fall right down
But always get up and never frown
I follow the yellow brick road

As I see the road comes to an end
I look at myself as an old man
Searching this whole time
To find my place, to find my life
To do what’s right, to claim what’s mine
I’ve been on the road this whole time
On the road of my life

And on this road I have found
The person I am on this humble ground
And as I dig my grave so deep
I know I cannot go to sleep
All the unfinished things I still have to do
The questions, answers, and all things new

So I put on the sandals made of red
As a new road appears where the past I’ve shed
The sins I’ve gathered
I follow the yellow brick road
David G Oct 2016
I came upon a snake in the road,
A snake in the sun, in the road
on the road.

Coiled and slithery he hissed and
flicked the snake in the road
in the road, in the road.

I fossilized in fear and was stuck
so stuck was I at the sun soaked
snake in the road, in the road.

When from a deepening well and a
light so bright I challenged the snake
in the road, in the road, in the
road.

With Flashing fangs, he bit me, the
******* bit me the snake in the road,
in the road, in the road.

So I seized him and swung him,
thumped him and spun him.
Then bit off his **** head the
snake in the road, in the road
is no more.

We'll see about me.
Chris La Mar Apr 2017
I came to a fork in the road
My journey had led me to exotic places before
Waterfalls, endless forests filled with evergreens for miles, volcanoes, even
However odd it may seem, of all the places I have been
The split in the road caused me to wonder more
My sense of awesome wonder wandered far beyond the wonder that wander
When I came across the waterfalls and other exotic places from back yonder
But my wandering sense of wonder wandered here
At this fork in the road

Splitting to the right, the road was stocked with rows of beautiful wild flowers and green grass
never before seen, it seems
I imagined the beautiful sights of nature I would wander into if I had gone down that side of the
Fork in the road
Splitting to the left, the road was beaten and stocked with dirt, rocks, and thorny bushes that had
never seen water from the sky, it seems

I remember I remembered a poem I once read about what to do if I ever come to a
Fork in the road
I remember reading this poem when I was in my adolescent years
I remember remembering the advice that poet gave to me if I ever encounter a
Fork in the road
The poet told me to take the road less traveled. I guess it made all the difference for him.

I was torn in two
The beaten path seemed more traveled
But the attractive path (the one on the right) seemed like it would have been more traveled than
The road on the left
For the right path would be traveled upon more
Because the left did not look right

So I split left and walked confidently and triumphantly down the road
That was filled with dirt, rocks, and thorny bushes
And I remember thinking how much I would benefit from
Taking the road less traveled
Because it will make all the difference
Like the poet said it would

Until I stepped on a snake
And then I got the hell off of that road and onto the road without all of the snakes
And it was a lot less stressful of a walk
And that made all the freaking difference
Because I’m not stupid enough to walk down a road filled with snakes
Amanda Kay Hill Dec 2017
We are
Walking on a
Road
Call life and
Sometimes the
Road
Is a bumpy
Road
Or sometime the
Road
Is a smooth
Road
But when the
Road
Is a bumpy
Ride you just
Have to have faith
In God and trust
That he is there
To help you
And the
Road
We walk on
Is not always
Easy sometimes the
Road
Is hard we try to
Our best to stay
Faithful to God
Some time we sin
And sometimes we
Give up hope and
Fall in to the dark
God never promise the
Road
To be a easy ride but
He say trust me and
You will be okay because
I am here for you to talk
To and to pray to I will
Help you walk on the
Road
That will hopefully
Leave you to me in heaven
If you don't go to the dark side
And not let me help you so all
I asked is to have faith and believe
In me the savior and the creator of
Heaven and earth and I am also
Will love you unconditionally
And never give up on you
My children so just take deep
Breath and just let me help you
On you walk on it
Road
That is called life and a journey
To a beautiful place called heaven
Road
© Amanda Kay Hill
5/31/17
If you don't know where you're going
And you have a heavy load
You can always change direction
And take another road

There's always more than one way to the finish
If one leads in, one leads out
Take another road to where you're going
And you'll find it round about

Life is never straight line
It's a circle never ending
To get to where you're going
Take another road that's bending

Things aren't going well at home
The cracks around you showed
It's time to get away and go
And Take another road

Find a different destination
kiss a frog, or kiss a toad
If a prince does not appear
Then take another road

Life is always in constant motion
Bear the weight, and you'll be bowed
Get away from a bad situation
And Take another road

Take another road away
You'll make good time, I'm sure
Another road will lead the way
That's what a road is for
If the road on which you travel
Is forked, there is a code
If you don't like one, then choose the other
And take another road
g clair Sep 2013
I stood before the town folk, who were all revved up, in gear,
" I'm laying claim to 'Yonder Road', which leads to my lot there".
And as I spoke, I found my voice~ "And I, G Clair, it is my choice
to take it back" and dared the few, who looked me in the eye, and knew
they'd met their match but here's the catch,
I took it straight, right down the hatch...
The road's not mine to take.

"We must decline. It's on the line, the Powell Township County Line"
~So half of it is theirs to sell? And so I'm thinking "What the hell?"
I never planned to buy the land, which leads up to my pile of sand,
and half a road? That's just a load of ****-a-mamey crap and toad!

Not one spoke on my behalf, that half-a-road was just a laugh,
but secretly I knew their game, to share the road, and to their shame,
I'd have to buy the township out, if private is, what it's about.
And so I kept my peace of mind. "I'll pay for Yonder, rob me blind!"
"And all in favor, just say 'Aye'" The room went silent. Then a cry~
from down behind the furthest row, an "Aye" and then the rest in tow
and everyone you would have thought, would die before the road was bought
and on that day, the vote was wrought, and ALL for one road to my lot.
the road was mine to take!

And as I drove on down my road, I wondered, if it ever snowed,
if they'd still plow a private road, or leave it to the one who owed
the price of owning graveled lane, which cut in two, by grassy mane
and wondered if I'd have to mow the place which pulled like undertow~
which drew the settlers through the plain, where nothing grows in fitful rain
yet wagons, traveling there in vain, would lose a wheel, and what a pain
and one last thought to keep me sane:

Those drivers who had lots to gain
whose hearts were heavy, just the same
from weary rolling over rocks
in untilled pastures, void of flocks
who held the reigns in calloused hands
and prayed while sweat dripped from their glands
to make it to their promised lands,
would LOVE... a road... like mine.
matt Nov 2014
The solo road takes hold. I don't know where it goes, but where it goes I go.
A midnight’s drive under a sky full of clouds, blocking the moonlight.
Only the glimpse of a shimmering star guides my way, but to what I do not know.
A night of indifference, just going where this winding road takes me, but
I can barely see that shining star through clouds of hesitation.
The road is a one lane highway to a destination unknown
the fog is so dense it is like a layer of blankets used to hide the fears of a child in the dark.
At this point I wonder if it can hide my fears as well.
Do I even want to hide from these fears at all or should I stand up to the inevitable?
My engine’s sputtering, stalling, my car’s running out of gas and I feel like I just might crash.
I put my foot to the gas and hope that I wont fly through the glass and end up with my car smashed, because this car is my only way off this **** road in the first place.
I see no headlights coming my way even though I pray that one day I will see a light at the end of this godforsaken road but the day isn't today.
Some days I pray that I will lay on the road face down
with a trail of my essence turning the road red with release
but other days I carry on like it was my job to mindlessly keep both of my hands on the steering wheel and hope that at the end of this road, there’s an exit sign,
and that all I need’s a little more time.
Because night after night, my hands grip the wheel so hard my knuckles turn white as the fog that clouds my vision day after day.
My sighs echo down this ever growing street, every twist and turn feels like another reason
to unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door because
I’m going 85 in a 50 and I can’t even see my own headlights on the road
my vision is blurred and my mind is as foggy as the road I drive on.
Every now and again I wonder what the point is
I can barely remember the day I started driving, it was so long ago
and I pray for the day when I can wash this fog away in rain,
that I’ll find an exit and take it.
Maria Lamarque Nov 2015
Life's like a road trip. When you're young, you're deciding where to go, what friends to take along and what sights you want to see. As you keep growing and learning; you change destinations, travelers and where you want to explore.

Once you're in your car, driving down the winding road, you start to pick up hitchhikers. Some only need the ride to the next town over, some stick around longer than expected and some leave too soon, each leaving different stories and memories.

With any road trip, sometimes you read the map wrong, or make a wrong turn and lose your way back to the main road. But don't panic, you'll get back to where you need to be, in due time.

While driving, you could decide to switch destinations because, that's not where you want to end up anymore. So, you pull up on the side of the road, ask for directions, maybe grab a bite to eat and head on to your new road.

With every road trip, it can be fun or hectic, longer than expected or ends too soon. You might stumble upon new discovers and detours along the way, stopping to soak up the beauty of the landscape.

Road trips are unique to the driver and the passengers. Once the road trip is done and you've reached your destination, you can always plan a new trip and start looking at different routes.

As long as you got good tunes, great travel buddies and gas; life's winding road will show you new horizons.
Sam Knaus Nov 2014
The solo road takes hold. I don't know where it goes, but where it goes I go.
A midnight’s drive under a sky full of clouds, blocking the moonlight.
Only the glimpse of a shimmering star guides my way, but to what I do not know.
A night of indifference, just going where this winding road takes me, but
I can barely see that shining star through clouds of hesitation.
The road is a one lane highway to a destination unknown
the fog is so dense it is like a layer of blankets used to hide the fears of a child in the dark.
At this point I wonder if it can hide my fears as well.
Do I even want to hide from these fears at all or should I stand up to the inevitable?
My engine’s sputtering, stalling, my car’s running out of gas and I feel like I just might crash.
I put my foot to the gas and hope that I wont fly through the glass and end up with my car smashed, because this car is my only way off this **** road in the first place.
I see no headlights coming my way even though I pray that one day I will see a light at the end of this godforsaken road but the day isn't today.
Some days I pray that I will lay on the road face down
with a trail of my essence turning the road red with release
but other days I carry on like it was my job to mindlessly keep both of my hands on the steering wheel and hope that at the end of this road, there’s an exit sign,
and that all I need’s a little more time.
Because night after night, my hands grip the wheel so hard my knuckles turn white as the fog that clouds my vision day after day.
My sighs echo down this ever growing street, every twist and turn feels like another reason
to unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door because
I’m going 85 in a 50 and I can’t even see my own headlights on the road
my vision is blurred and my mind is as foggy as the road I drive on.
Every now and again I wonder what the point is
I can barely remember the day I started driving, it was so long ago
and I pray for the day when I can wash this fog away in rain,
that I’ll find an exit and take it.
Nino DeGenaro Aug 2014
The road to salvation
                                     is not the wide road,
                                                  the pride road,
                                                    the road to victory.
                         the salvation road is the dirt road,
                                                    the drifter's road,
                                                           ­         the flooded, the burnt, the crazy
                                                    road.
S­alvation of soul is a matter of mind,
                                     roads as metaphors are always feeble,
                                               narrow, crooked, invisible,
                                     forming, newly formed, formidable,
                              the road of the cripples, the poor and the blind.

                                    Pathway to the heart,
                               footfalls on heaven's step,
                                         water cuts stone,
                                             thorn rips flesh,
                                                  blood covers earth,
                                                      dirt­ eats bone.
                                
 Among the rocks the seeds He sowed,
                                     the soul's road is the open road.
Patricia Arches Sep 2013
The easy road always leads to Nowhere.

I knew it before. My momma had warned me of it, of what I would see. I had two roads to choose from when it was time for me to go, when I would have to leave the comfort of my red bricked cottage.  

I saw in front of me two roads diverged in a yellow wood.

Momma warned me about that easy road. "It leads to Nowhere," she always said.

Yet it was so attractive with its lush scenery and spacious roads. An entrance, painted bright blue. “Welcome to Anywhere!" In fact, many stayed awhile on these roads and gathered among themselves in trivial conversation. There was no need to hurry, no place to be over there in Anywhere.

Laughter could be heard from miles away.

The road so simple could always be seen from the road so hard, sending down envy into the very stomachs of those brave enough to enter it.

The hard road was absolutely terrible.

It took too many sacrifices and short-lived enjoyments. No pretty signs welcomed me in. Only a caution to the cowardly lay hidden among scraggy thorns.

The entrance was vile, a landscape unpleasant to my eyes.

Pain and sadness waited often on the sidewalk there. No mercy for those who slipped and showed a bit of weakness. The roads were bumpy and tumultuous. One cannot simply count on their fingers how many times they would trip on this road.

The hard road was less traveled and therefore extremely lonely. No person in sight. No sound could be heard except for the eerie laughter echoing from the roads of Anywhere.


..But, boy, let me tell you. I have come to the end of that road, calloused and bruised

and my joy lay in the knowledge of the fact that Somewhere was waiting for me.

The hard road leads to Somewhere.

When I reached it that was when I knew:

Somewhere is so much more better than Nowhere.

Even better than Anywhere

Somewhere is worth it.

And to see it on the horizon, at the end of the long road of hardship..

when there were no more pebbles to step on

or pain lurking in the shadows to be afraid of

I knew right there and then

Somewhere was deserved by me

Somewhere was mine

and that has made all the difference.
Wil Wynn Apr 2010
No One Knew His Name
when the woman called nine eleven she said
there is a guy sitting on the stoop
he's dead..
the nine eleven woman, martha, said
how do you know he
s dead we get plenty of calls like tha
t

she said, the woman, said
he
s got flies in his eyes

martha said we are gonna
be right there!

2.two condoms and a crucifix

when the coroner people cam
e he was still sitting on the stoop
still dead his breath no longer
straining the winter air
then they took pix and measured things
rigor mortis already had set in
and when they took th e pix
they showed two condoms and a crucifix
falling out of his pocket into the light of day

the woman who found him so still
she said it is strange
to see such disparate things spilling out of his pocket
he
was still dead and i believe he
s kept his state of being stubborn as he is/was
he remains forevermore stilled

we talked about those three things
two concepts really
two condoms and a crucifix
and we could not figure out which
he loved the most
because we never heard him speak of
anything but god crack *** amphetamine
trinity cooh, ya know?

3. Discovery Indeed

he came from wolf lake mn
population 31
when he left it went down to 25
ten thousand lakes
he could not imagine living there
anymore
but did he know at the end of the trail
what was he looking for?
two condoms and a xfix
my god he said
although he did not ever believe in such
extravagance
just before he went to sleep
perhaps to be still forever more
my god he said
as the soporific hit blessed
whatever was left of his short life
my god he said
although he was agnostic or so he said
my god
he could not have believed had he not heard them words
himself
as he grabbed the condoms and kissed the xfix
or maybe it was the other way around.

4. No ****
sitting on his ***** chair
he put his hands between his legs
reached for the ****
and squeezed:
yellowish stuff strained out between his fingers.

his grandma slapped him, hard

5. Things Looking Up

he lay down on the floor
to look up the neighbor's dress
he saw a pair of legs descend
from pink *******

then his grandma picked him up
slapped him, hard.

6. Harbinger

winter flew in harsh in minnesota,
battered houses, pine trees,
the wide landscape into submission
let the wind run whistling, whipping
subservient snow, whitewhirlwinding
down desolate fields and lanes

one day it got so cold
spit froze before it hit the ground
it made a little noise midair

7. Cold Dogs

one time he saw some fifteen dead dogs
piled by the side of a road
frozen like the rest of the landscape

even as an adult he wondered
what THAT had been about

8. *** Is Child's Play

in the first grade he fell in love with miss renee
the teacher who let him put his head down on her legs
and petted his head while he glowed glowed glowed
he learned to love school and read read read
so ms renee would say Joe, read!
and he would

one time he dreamed he had *** with miss renee
*** was tying something between her legs
a knot of love in her ******

so how did he know about such things
at five? he always wondered about that.

9. Revelation

his fishing pole was gone!
he looked and looked while spring time
raised giant mosquitos that buzzed and buzzed
about his head

he never found his fishing pole
he thought that maybe when you die
and go to heaven
god showed you in a sort of movie
what had happened so you'd nod yer head and say
yeh, i'd never would have guessed grandma

gave it away.

10. Alone At Last

say to the darkness this
emptiness covers all this
suffusing light scrapes away
some pain some excruciating i am
lucid preamble to my nevermores
in plural congruent universes
coexisting rapt in its own
say this is a dream a vertigo
a swirling metaphor for then/now/and again
can days still mean something new
today everyone left
everyone left


staring out the window at six years old
he saw woods slowly fade into the night
he thought they sank
into an oblivious fog

why didn't i go to the neighbors' house

11. Death Becomes The Fisherman

the lakes were all around
they said let's go see the drowned man
so they went to the shore
a boat with two men rowing
approached
you could see a hand and an arm sticking out
from somebody lying on the floor
someone said "hey, he
s waving"
close to the shore
the wind brought the overpowering
stink of death
that shocked him because he'
d not thought of "drowned" as "dead"

they brought the body out
to the shore
covered it waiting for the coroner to show up

mother and sister cried nearby
neither could approach the stinking corpse

he then realized that no matter what
you can't kiss a rotting corpse.

12. Rubber Match

the first time he met a ******
there was no formal intro
he just found it in his father'
s drawer
filled it with water
dumped it on the neighbor
s'
yard

later on he could hear them fight

13.Prurient Discovery

when he was 13 he made love to her
who was 16
and all he could think about
was how gross it was and wet

until he came

then his opinion suddenly
changed

for the

better

14. Death Is

his grandmother was sick
in the MN winter cold home
she coughed and coughed
so she
put kerosene on her back
and chest
he saw she got blisters
he did not want to help
clean them up
so he hid
until she was quiet for a couple of days

he went to see her she was dead
so he stayed drunk for a week or so
until he could not stand the stink no more

15. The Beginning of the End

he went to a foster home
there were 5 other teenagers there
the first night
he went to bed
someone put a pillow on his head
while hands turned him over
held him down
pulled his pjs down
5 guys ***** him then and there

the next day he ran away

16. The End of the Beginning

they brought him back 23 times
on the 24 he met one of the kids
by the lake
stuck a knife under the guys
ribcage on the right side

all the guy did was sigh
and slide slowly down

he pushed the guy into the water
somehow it took weeks to find the body
by then nobody could tell he'd been stabbed

but none of the kids ever held him down
again

17. COOH

alcohol alcohol
its sweet old name tells me all
i need to know how spinning
the world distances itself
in a warm blood red haze
and only a swollen torpor remains
alcohol alcohol
its sweet old name tells me all
i need to know
and not to know

18. Not Late, Just Timely

time 'sss a stone a sash a thunderbolt up high
a rudder a list a lisp a restless meandering
time 'sss a spire a fish still below the waves
a constraint a push a shove a deal a nothing
time 'ssss a look a lock a rail
a sunrise a fall a crack a vial
time 'sss a sock a pen a handgun
a radiant breeze a solid solid hand
two elbows and one mouth

he took his time and time took him
step by step he climbed the stairs of his cognizance
such as it was just this
no hope

i say no hope but no despair either
the world sometimes it's just the way it is
he understood that but what to make
of this breathing hearing seeing tasting feeling smelling
thinking self
he knew not
and in not knowing
he passed the time that isss not
what you think it isss
time 'sss not even a ticking tocking clock
just let it be he said to himself
time 'sss not me
yet time isss me

and he took another ****


19. Luger

his father came back to town one day
the war had been over for a few years then
they told him where he could find his father and he went
and watched his father, dressed in combat rags,
as he counted the fingers of his shooting hand

they exchanged glances and he left

got drunk and did not hear or see his father ever again.

20. Life As A Long One Night Stand

the girls are many the girls are new
every day they seems to look at you
and you melt and then you are gone
in another trip with another stranger
in your bed do not say much
cause *** is just another drug

just cheaper and easier to get
than smack

21. Epitaph

he learned a song and a little dance
at the emergency rooms where he got
the prescription pain killers man he could
lie and act and pretend so much
he knew they'
d really have to give him stuff
cause that'
s the way that things work
in big city hospitals
he re-membered a doc who smiled at him
saying man you'll be dead soon
although you think you are fooling me
the only fool in this room is you

he laughed cause he could not agree more
put that in my tombstone he said
the doc said no, you are gonna do it all by yourself

22. Lost Weekend
-.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.-
-.- -.- -.- -.-
-.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.-
-.- -.- -.- -.-

23. Dashes and Spaces
---- -- -- - - --- --
-- - -- -- -- - - -- - -- -- -
--- - - - - - -- - -- - - - --- - -
-- - - -- -- -- -- ---- - - --

24. Two Condoms

at the end of the road
the road the empty road
the sinuous complex road
the road the heavy road
where lust and love entwine
who knows the end or the beginning
who knows alpha or omega
who the what who the where who even
the hidden sentient how
the nothingness the emptiness
of come and come and come
just emptiness of not becoming
he heard himself saying screaming
at the end of something like a bumpy ride
she was who knows who but she was
you know the hole the whole the mankind whole
the all embracing whole the whole hole
the destination origin
the one and all
he said here i belong elementary
i exist because of this
he pounded pounded in his anguish
of becoming one and whole
he howled his grief intermittent
as pulse wave of heart
the heat of his despair
the only drug that it's living protein
he felt his way
and then was gone from virile crisis
to distant remote self acquiring its orthodoxy of despair
because as he put it once you cannot ever **** yourself
square the circle as it were
so he accepted two trojans
at the bar when a guy in the adjacent ****** said
these are the best and yes
we gotta protect ourselves
and left the couple of rubbers
by the sink
and he would have washed his hands
had he known how
but instead put them products in his pocket
a premonition of some kind of future bliss
tugging the sleeve of his presentiment

carving already a vast innocent tomorrow
while he walked out

he truly did not care

25. Crucifix

at the end of the road the empty road, the road full of lies, deceit and a hunger so great it overwhelmed all else, at the end, the terminus, the appointed hour, at the end of the alpha, the omega, the in-between, the road sinuous road that led down the miriad steps to the steps on a stoop in the city of new york, at the end of a long concatenation of minutes, each ethereal, insubstantial, a construct, a vapid dream or nightmare indeed he sat down one last time with his burden of hours to dream one last warm oblivious cozy, embracing shroud, sweet balm to assuage the freezing claws of grief. in the seedy bar last
night he met a blonde who said, your eyes remind me of a long ago boyfriend, he said well, he musta been one hell of a guy, she said indeed, he died in iraq, suicide, ******* he said that is not right, she said we are all at war, daily intimate war, i think, who said we met the enemy and it's us? he did not know but understood, he said although denial is more than a river in egypt, ha ha, but they both got it since they both craved the same intoxication, the same zig-zag and feint, she said the first time i got drunk i was eleven, that was my first time for *** too, he said the first time i got drunk i too was eleven, the night had fallen i was alone in wisconsin among the wolves of winter howling their relentless wind outside, i found a bottle of the hard stuff, not beer like everybody drank i could not stand the taste it was too bitter, but gin, and i drank it convulsed at first by the shock, then not, just drinking a few more gulps and believed i had found the greatest gift on earth, the greatest warmest kindest confidant, she said you talk funny, but i understand what you are talking about, i know the allure but my hangovers, wow, he said no, i never got one, but. here is the but. i knew a limit, i was never blind blind drunk until much later in new york, she said we each have our cross to bear and laughed and dontcha just wanna do a line now ha ha, and it went on like that for quite a while. when she was leaving she said, you wanna see something funny, yeah he said, she brought out a crucifix and it was indeed jesus, his mouth open, imploring relief from his harsh dad, and he had a gold tooth, blue eyes and dreads, he laughed and said that's quite contemporary and she said wha? you don't think he looked like that? but really who knows what the truth was, he said or is, so they both lifted one in memory of the dear departed one who had caused so much trouble here on earth, but, she said, he did not mean it, here keep it and he did. later on he found his fix it was extra good ****, too good in fact, and who knows, when he sat there with flies in his eyes, his life a dream, invention, make believe, whether any of the episodes were true at all, sob stories to assuage the beast of craving within, get his hand in your pocket and whether, as he sank below the surface of his tortured bliss, he saw his true light at long last.
Grab the keys
The truck is full
Let's head out
hit the road
It's Friday
Time to party
A teenage
secret code

Tweets are out
Friends are set
It's party time
tonight
We're going
out in secret
We'll be home
Before daylight

Going on a back road ride
Deep into the night
Going on a back road ride
It will be out of sight
Going on a back road ride
Won't be back until the morn
Going on a back road ride
In the fields beyond the corn

We're teenagers
It's what we do
It's how we find
out who we are
Like our parents
did before us
We're following
Our star

We learn
about each other
We learn
Where we should go
We set a path
Into the future
With the star
From long ago

Going on a back road ride
Deep into the night
Going on a back road ride
It will be out of sight
Going on a back road ride
Won't be back until the morn
Going on a back road ride
In the fields beyond the corn
LadyShayBird Oct 2015
As I travel the road I can see up ahead, what I am going to find, I don’t know yet.  I do know that the road is long and waiting for me, but I can’t see what I think is for me.  I have traveled a long way to find a certain place, but I don’t know still with this confused look on my face.  I have been told that along this road I may find someone kind.  But, so far I have found no one worth my time.  I decide to keep walking this long road, hoping that I will find what I am looking for, and once I do I may not be confused any more.  Wondering what's up ahead, what could it be?  Guess I’ll have to wait and see.  This road is starting to really get to me, as I feel that I have been walking this road again continuously.  All I see is the same things that I have seen.  Could this be, that I have been walking this long road for days now, trying to see what’s ahead, or is this the beginning of a road that never ends?
As I keep walking down this road, I see up ahead, two different ways that I can go instead.  But, which way should I turn, right or left?  I don’t know, I'm guessing left.  Left it is.  As I pass the trees, I see birds flying up above me.  How the sky shines so bright, what a beautiful sight.  Can this be the end of the road for me?  Maybe I won’t have to take the other way.  Maybe, just maybe I’ll be okay. I have traveled for hours and nothing up ahead.  Oh no… I just may have taken the wrong road instead.  But, my mind is telling me to walk some more and maybe I’ll find what I've been looking for.  As I walk a little further, I see up ahead someone just like me hands upon his head.  I stop and get a little closer to this man and I touch him and say, “Tell me sir have you also been traveling along this way?”  He looks up at me with tears in his eyes and says, “Ma’am, I too have tried, but I can’t find my way.”  I told the man that I have faith.  That there will be a place someday, and you can’t give up along the way.  I took him by the hand and told him to follow me, because you can’t give up on everything.
The road to forgiveness where do we start?
We start with humility and we start with the heart.
The road to forgiveness may be a bumpy ride,
Sometimes we need to apologize yet we run and hide.
When you hold on to disappointments and your heart seems brittle and cold
Your only outcome will be that you grow miserable and old.
The road to forgiveness will interfere with your pride,
But some will become humbled and some will cry.
The Lord has forgiven us and that’s the example we need to use
If He has forgiven us then I can forgive you.
The road to forgiveness may sting in your heart
Because it’s hard to forgive once your pain does start.
The road to forgiveness we all have to take…
If heaven is our goal we should not wait.
The road to forgiveness should start with you,
Forgive yourself first before you suffer from the things that you do.
Forgiveness is about love not patience or gain
Love will heal all without placing blame.
The road to forgiveness has been paid by Christ
He set the bar high because He gave up His life.
So all we need is a humble and contrite heart
Let’s learn to be forgiving before our anger starts.
The road to forgiveness is not the easiest road to take
Especially when you are a victim and your heart seems to break,
You wonder why you should make the very first step
When, because of others, you were sad and you wept.
So my friends holding onto bitterness will never bless you
If that’s the unfortunate road that you willingly choose.
This is good old wisdom and I’m not trying to be clever
I advise you to use forgiveness and be blessed forever.
Poetic T Dec 2014
I walk, I am a lone,
Limp feet lift upon dead ground
Left,
Right,
Onwards
I jest this failing body
Onwards towards what is the end
"I carry my weight"
"I carry my bones"
I wish to walk upon those before
This road of the dead,
Life,
Passing,
Rest
Is the only sombre thought,
But I walk on, I walk over,
I walk past upon those who
"Came before"
Billboards overhead, rest here
,Silence,
Peace,
Death
Is what waits upon those who
Stop,
I carry on never faulting.
Then that moment  before, as all have stood,
"The end of the road"
"There is just barren land"
"This road of fallen"
"It is a road upon the bodies of the fallen"*
White tiles,
White dreams,
White bones
That my knees rest upon.
Tears of anger penetrate, for nothing,
As I succumb to this Road of death,
For I am but another few cobbles
For the next one too fall upon. To further this road,
This road of white covered in dust.
This road of hope within its white gleam.
"The road of death"
Has paved another slab on its
Passage to nowhere, but **death.
Kaleb Mar 2013
The Road; it’s a *****, unpaved, rocky road indicating little life to where it leads. Some would say good, some would say ****. The Road; it scares some. It scares them so much they veer off into the blistering concrete jungles that bring dreary, useless cubicles that trap human life like the barbed wire fences of the concentration camps. This Road leads to adventure. It leads to reverberation, to new life, to energy that will run through your veins like the ***** fluids from a used needle of a ******. The Road is gray, even dead in some areas. The death, dark-like colors do not indicate what the Road leads to though. It leads to color. It leads to the organic. It leads to knowledge. It leads to forgiveness. The Road, as ***** as it may be, as rough as the ridges of the great Rockies, as old as the life of an underused Supreme Court Justice; despite these unending failures, there is hope, the hope of an ending. This hope brings us joy. It brings us happiness, clarity, peace, tranquility. The Road takes us to anew. It makes us anew. It breaks us from the old. The Road is where we belong. The Road is for us, by us, with us, but never against us.
AJ Claus Nov 2013
I walk along a road,
An endlessly winding road.
Miles and miles with no end,
No shoes upon my feet.
I started to ache long, long ago,
My back holding in crumbling bones.
My head pounds with every step.
The air is hot and humid,
No rain in sight to cool me down.
It's like a desert out here,
Yet it is just a road.
An endlessly winding road.
A road dressed in all black,
Hard like the rock it is.
A single white line runs down the middle.
It signifies hope.
Or maybe the lack of any such thing.
Each step I take along my path,
The more heat spreads up through
My burning red feet.
I dream of something cold...of ice.
Something I could place upon my singed soles.
And maybe something figurative
For my singed soul.
Alas, imagination only goes so far.
My dreams crushed,
My toes on fire,
I sigh and continue down the road.
My road.
This long, endlessly winding road,
Which I have come to loath.
I know not how I even came upon it,
Nor if it is truly endless.
I know not if it will ever end,
Nor if I will ever be released from
This endlessly winding nightmare.
This endlessly winding prison.
This endlessly winding road.
You choose the road you travel, it can be the right road or the left.  If you choose the wrong road, only danger will be felt.
You choose the road you travel, make sure it's the right one.   Or, you can end up on the wrong path, with weight heavy as a ton.
You choose the road you travel, make sure the road is not bad.  The only thing down that road, are things to make you sad.
You choose the road you travel, why not choose the road of Peace?  You will find only contentment, the kind that will never cease.
By, Author & Poet, Sandra Juanita Nailing
Kelly Bitangcol Aug 2018
“Pepsi employee killed in Hawkins car crash.”
“Maine Vice Mayor Deaver killed in car accident in Castle Rock.”
“Woman ‘dead’ after car crash found alive in morgue.”

The news reports on radio echoed through her whole car as she indulged her third bottle of Russian Standard. Weird, she thought; she has been hearing news about road collisions all day. She was sure that the alcohol wasn’t intoxicating her mind to hear different things, she knew she was still sober. Everybody knew she always had low alcohol tolerance, even herself knew that; now she couldn’t even taste the bitterness of the liquor, she feels it inside of her. Drinking was the thing her mother told her to never do, perhaps because it turns her father into a monster with a closed fist as a weapon.

She looked at her rear-view mirror and realised she was travelling alone on an empty road. People had told her before to never travel alone in Derry Road or else something might happen. She wasn’t travelling; she was running away. It fits her, she thought, she and the road were the same; they were both empty.

She heard an unfamiliar noise, like the sound of a steel colliding with another steel. She had realized that her car engine died while she was driving. “Seriously?” she said to herself, “Is everything I own dead now? Like me?”

She stepped outside of her car and walked to find any gasoline stations or houses that could help her. There is no luck for any signs of functioning establishments on an empty road like this, she thought. However, a place filled with buried muscle cars, abandoned pickup trucks, and old bulldozers caught her attention. It’s an empty road. How is there supposed to be a car junkyard? She thought to herself. What’s even stranger is, she didn’t see it while she was driving.

“Well this day couldn’t get any weirder,” she said. First she couldn’t get drunk after drinking three bottles, then she kept on hearing news about car crashes, and now she suddenly saw a car junkyard out of the blue? She opened her hood and a massive smoke appeared, causing her to inhale it. She was coughing while staring at the oils leaking. She didn’t know what to do. She had no choice but to look for people who could help her with her car. She didn’t know anything about it, she didn’t even know what the problem of her car was. She glanced at the sky and saw the sun was slowly setting as well as her hope in what’s happening. She thought to herself, maybe this creepy car junkyard could actually help her.

She walked towards the old car junkyard and the sight of it surprised her. Her eyes widened when she saw people hanging out, beer bottles everywhere, and some couples having the time of their lives.

“May I help you?” A long haired guy who was wearing a Led Zeppelin shirt appeared by her side. She was having second thoughts in answering him back, but she really needed help, especially if she reeks of alcohol on an empty road.

“Yes, actually I was driving and then my car suddenly stopped. I don’t know what’s wrong with it, but a smoke appeared and the oils were leaking. I figured you can help me.”

“You think we know everything about cars just because we’re hanging out in a car junkyard?” He asked while laughing. Her embarrassment was overflowing at that moment which caused her to look down, she was still hearing the guy’s chuckles.

“I just guessed. I think.” She said this while looking at the ground since she was too humiliated to look at him. Much to her surprise, his laughter was no longer heard. “Thank God.” She whispered to herself.

“We’ll see what we can do. At the moment, why won’t you just join us?” Join them? Like hang out with people who are in this creepy junk yard? She stood still while ruminating on what she should do. She was feeling a little scared that maybe these people are actually killers or ghosts but there wasn’t really anything to lose for her. This is the place she'd rather be than her house where her mistakes and failures are always included in their dinner conversations.

She walked towards people who were about her age. Girls with vibrant hair colours looked at her from head to toe, some of them smiled at her that caused her to smile too.

“Your car died?” asked a short haired girl holding a beer bottle.

“Yes. This day couldn’t get any worse. Life couldn’t get any worse, from losing everything you have to people you trusted betraying you. My life is as worthless as my rotten car.” she uttered. One problem she has always had was the inability to control her mouth. People tried to cut her tongue before, unbeknownst to them it’s a far more dangerous weapon than their sharp objects.

“If that ain’t the truth.” said the short haired girl while taking a sip of her beer. Seeing people drink their beer bottles triggered her, she was fighting the urge to go back to her car and finish the remaining bottles of her Russian Standard.

“You want one?” the short haired girl asked while giving her the beer bottle. She just shrugged and shook her head, she was never a fan of beers.

The people in the car junk yard continued to hang out and drink their beers. They talked to her and even told some stories, she was enjoying their company. Epiphany suddenly hit her when this one thought crossed her mind; people there talked to her and asked her questions, but they never asked for her name. She never knew even a single name. Abandoned cars, unusual but enthusiastic people, and a junkyard in the middle of an empty road. She was starting to think she visited the labyrinth of lost people with broken cars.

“I hope you guys don’t mind me asking but, who are you and what do you do here?” curiosity was evident in her voice. For the first time, she was starting to care about things.

“We live here.” A husky and deep voice replied, which sent shivers up and down her spine.

“You live here? Like you sleep inside the cars?” Her voice was filled with wonder and a little bit of fear. She has never heard of a lifestyle like this. What about their food? Their money? Their family? These questions surrounded the confused mind of hers.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’m sorry if I ask too many questions but how did you guys meet? Like, were you all friends before or did you just meet here?”

“We all met because of one thing, our cars suddenly died. Actually, two things; our cars mysteriously stopped and we all had the desire to walk away from life.”

She immediately felt tiny little bumps over her skin. She thought this was actually a nonexistent place but she was right all along. She was feeling a combination of terror and nonchalance, like a person who is on the verge of death but has already accepted the fate that the heavens had stored for her. People already had their eyes closed while some are still staring at the constellations in the sky, wondering why their lives didn’t shine as bright in the dark as them. She’d rather sleep than look at the stars, for she knows her life would be much better with her eyes closed.

“Are you sure with your decision?” a soft but eager whisper awakened her from her thoughts. She saw the long haired guy staring at her, waiting for her answer.

“What decision?”

“Are you sure you want to walk away from everything already?”

She looked at the guy with annoyance mixed with sarcasm. “What? I’m just sleeping. When my car miraculously work again, I’ll leave immediately.”

“You’re enjoying here, aren’t you?” She didn’t try to utter some words, she knew inside of her that he already knows the answer.

“I was like that too, you know? I thought this was the place where I can finally be free. I finally walked away from my problems, I don’t have to deal with never ending problems and challenges anymore.” He paused, which caused her to look at him and wait for his reply. “But that’s only what I thought.” He said this with a broken voice that she was sure she would never forget.

“But isn’t this junkyard truly for us? For people who failed, for people whose lives don’t deserve to continue anymore. Maybe our cars stopped for a reason, maybe our engines were never meant to be fixed. Maybe we were never meant to be fixed.” She felt tears slowly streaming down her face. She remembered the sight of her lover with the person she trusted the most, she remembered the bathroom floor filled with her own blood, she remembered the bruises on her face after the night her father got drunk.

“At first it was. It felt good. Until I realised that walking away from everything isn’t the solution. It doesn’t make things right, it actually makes them worse. The fact that you didn’t even try to fight is the worst thing.” She felt it. She felt his pain. She didn’t even know who this person was but one thing is for sure, she felt everything this guy had been through.

“But I tried, you know? I tried everything and life still gives me the same, eternal problems that I will never find solutions to.”

She could see his hazelnut eyes travel around her. Her blue eyes that were filled with tears looked at the boy who told her more meaningful words than her own father ever could. “I was like that. I was dumb to think life will always be easy, that I can surround myself with happiness and positivity. But life isn’t like that. Your life will not always be like the rising sun because most of the time it’s a thunderstorm. But I was more dumb to think that the best decision was to run away. I heard all about this place ever since before. I drove all the way from my place to here, thinking I could escape it all. That’s not the right decision. There isn’t a day here when I don’t think of my mother crying while I was in the hospital bed, wondering what she did wrong. I gave up on life when the people in it didn’t give up on me. I was stupid for thinking that I could reach my destination immediately without having a journey. I was stupid to think that I can just drive for 1 kilometre and be at the place I want. It doesn’t work that way, life doesn’t work like that. There will always be a journey, a journey where your car’s engine will be dead in the middle of an empty road, but you will find a way to fix it and drive again.”

“So did you regret your decision?”

“Let’s just say I was too late.” She couldn’t find the right words, she didn’t know what to say. She lets him do all the talking for she knows he can never say these words again.

“Look, I don’t want to be the one who decides for you. Maybe you’re so fed up of everything, I get it. But I’m just asking you to think about it, before everything is too late. And piece of advice, if you decide to leave here, please, don’t ever look back.” Blue meets hazelnut, in that one occurrence, they knew their car engines aren’t the only ones they have in common.

She knew that if she walked away, she was never going to see him again. It seemed impossible that he would tell her his name, but she still took the risk and ask him for it. “Before I go, can I please know your name?”

“My name’s Kevin. Kevin Parks.” His face was filled with regret and sadness. Maybe saying his own name was a struggle for him, he knew he would never hear his loved ones say it again.

She nodded and smiled at him, it’s been too long since she put a smile on her face.

“I’m Rosa.” She said. He smiled, knowing she still has the chance to let the world know her name.

“Tell my mom I’m sorry.” And just like that, he disappeared. She was left alone with the chaotic mind of hers. This was everything she wanted, to finally walk away from everything.

She looked around all the abandoned cars and abandoned souls, this is the place she’s supposed to walk away from. The darkness, the surrendering, the giving up. The people disappeared and the smell of beer and cigarettes were no longer there. Silence was her only companion, and it was the most riveting thing she has ever stumbled upon.

She went inside the rotten car of hers and inserted her key in the ignition when her engine miraculously turned on. Hearing her father’s drunken shouts, covering her scars with bracelets, and seeing people who shattered her are the things she knew she will experience again; this reality lead to Rosa’s hesitance in leaving the car junk yard. However, she thought that maybe she could visit Kevin’s mother and talk about him when he was still not aware of this place. This place, this car junkyard filled with abandoned cars and souls unexpectedly shed a light to the road towards whatever destination she was meant for. For the first time in many years, the sun finally set in her direction again. The rear-view mirror was very tempting to look at, yet she gathered all her courage to put her foot on the gas.
Rockie Oct 2014
If you were on the road to nowhere,
where would you go?
If you were on the road to somewhere,
would you stay where you are?
If there was no road,
what would you do?
If the road was there,
would you carry on walking?
If the road you walked upon,
was somebody else's,
would you leave?
If the road you took,
leads to the end of yours,
would you bother turning back?
What would YOU do,
if the feet that led you,
took you onto a road,
that you didn't know about?
phocks Sep 2013
And we all go together, on this lonely road
And we all go together, on this lonely road
In our motorcars, and handlebars
Walking through the looking glass
We all go together on this road

Gallant sailors of the symphony
Pack your things it’s time to go
Can you hear the tolling of the iron bells
The placid pounding of the waves below

And we all go together, on this lonely road
And we all go together, on this lonely road
In our motorcars, and handlebars
Walking through the looking glass
We all go together on this road

Your dreams go swimming on the open shore
Wrap your wings around this newfound land
Songs of solace ring out in a plastic cup
Washed out by the waves upon the sand

And we all go together, on this lonely road
And we all go together, on this lonely road
In our motorcars, and handlebars
Walking through the looking glass
We all go together on this road

And we all go together, on this lonely road
And we all go together, on this lonely road
In our motorcars, and handlebars
Walking through the looking glass
We all go together on this road
lyrical
J Harris Jul 2015
The nightly news suggested that my clan and friends
and poetry and me gather all of our things
and evacuate the city but because my folk
are people in the margin, people in financial

strain shaped by oppression, I have - instead - loaded things
and bodies into a single caravan and am
en route to you because you are smoother and longer
and stronger, taller than the tallest road in the world.

In my mind, you have become the road; a road whose peak
is 18,000 feet, a road whose place is between
the East and West, a road whose beginning has no end
and a road whose end has no beginning - none at all.

Heavy rain. Flood water. High wind, the weatherman said.
For years, I have been compelled to take this road, to ride
its curves with finesse, to drift in a single gear for
miles, to go and go and go on the smoothest road 'round.

For years, I have been compelled to take this road, to be
elevated at 18,000 feet - yes, to be
transported closer to heaven, to be and be and
be on the longest, strongest, tallest road in the world.

En route, an elderly man asked me, Why her, young man, why
her? I shifted gears. Accelerated up a hill
of you and said, Because she has exceeded all things.
Exceeded what, young man, exceeded what? Do tell. Do.

All other roads and passageways, the labyrinth of
life, everything, sir, everything.

And how do you know we will survive along this road?
he asked.

Because no matter the point of origin, so long
as we are on the road of her, there will be fields whose
crops are plenty - always in season, brooks whose water
never recoils, and rivers of milk that do not spoils.
Don't always take the road most travelled
sometimes the best road to
take is the one most empty
and go to someplace new

Roads all have an ending place
And some of them are lost
Because people won't venture off
The highway, no matter what the cost

The road less travelled used to be
The place where people go
It's only taken by the locals now
Because only locals know

The best place isn't always busy
sometimes the best is in the back
Take the road where others go
And you'll never go off track

Hold the grass down, start a path
Make your own road where you live
You only reap just what you sow
so show me what you have to give

Travelling the popular road
You know the one you've done before
Makes you less an individual
And makes you lemming number four

So, blaze a trail, and take the road
That few have ever seen
You never know, you may end up
Where the grass is truly green

Lead people by example
don't just go the same old way
So, take the road less travelled
And have a road trip...say...today!!!
The road back to you is full of thorns
every step is a pierce through my skin
soles bleed from the sharp edges of my agony
wounds that time hasn't healed yet
and its pus cry out 'for how long?'

The road back to you is full of thorns
and I am still made of eggshells
crushed each time i roll back in
which is why this road is a road
that i should travel back no more

The road back to you is full of thorns
but it calls me even with memories i no longer welcome
my footsteps can lead to many other roads
but your arrow is a test of how much I've recovered
and so I go...

The road back to you is full of thorns*
but i know one day the thorns will hurt me no more
and your familiar signs could lure me no more..
with my new compass, thanks but, No thanks!

No longer barefoot, no longer on foot
[Recalculating... Turn right]
a road that my GPS system won't even recognize
because the road back to you is full of thorns

Abandoned, Uninhabited, Untraceable

In fact, it's a road no More...
I was driving home from the mall today. It was a pitch-black night and the cold November air caused my breath to turn to smoke. I felt so free, because it was one of the first times I was driving my newly bought car. As I was driving, I was mouthing lyrics to my favorite song and I felt so genuinely happy. All of a sudden, I saw two bodies lying in the middle of the road. They were about a foot apart.  One body behind the first one. I figured this was a joke, and that somebody was testing how I was going to react. I even thought just for a moment maybe I was going to be on television. I quickly pulled to the right, naïve and unable to think clearly. I looked to the left and saw a man outside his car. The car’s windshield was completely smashed and the front bumper had indentations all over it.  I quickly looked back at the road and saw blood oozing everywhere from the  first body.  It was smeared all over the road and the second body was not moving at all. I looked in front and there were only two other cars pulled over to the right. I looked back at the strange man with glasses who was talking rapidly to what I assumed, 911 on the phone. Seeing the car, the blood, the unknown, I feel too close. I was two feet away from from the bodies, maybe dead, with a road lying under red liquid. As people slowly lined up behind my car to the side of this road, some got out to help. I sat in shock, unable to move, or drive, and was trapped in by two cars. I sat there trying not too stare at the girl who appeared to be trying to move and the gender unable to, but more likely a boy, not moving. This body had about two people checking its pulse. As six people gathered around the girl, holding her down so she would not move, as she squealed under her breath. Frozen, I sat gripping my steering wheel, and clenching my teeth. My eyes were stuck on those two bodies, it was as if I was trapped there with them. The car behind me, eventually turned around and I was slowly able to turn around and pull away from the gathered group of people, line of cars, and two possibly dead bodies. I drive up the road and hear sirens. I pulled, once again, to the right of the road, and let three ambulances pass me. I drive home blank stared and in a zombie phase. I got to the parking lot across the street from my house and began uncontrollably screaming and crying with a pain I have never felt before. I thought of their age, their families, the pain they must have felt. I also thought about how they must have felt entrapped on the cold road , unable to move or communicate, waiting for an ambulance or an afterlife. I felt so angry, and had a revelation , that the only possible thing I had in common with these two people were humanity and death. As I sat envisioning, these two bodies, I remembered my past and how once I wanted to be there. How once, I felt so low, I tried to bring myself to this ”only guaranteed factor of life.” I know I only arrived home a half hour ago but I am already feeling haunted by this incident. I will never forget what I have just seen. I now understand how precious life really is. It is not just a cliché saying to me. I now know anything can happen. I don’t think I understood the meaning of life. At age seventeen, I sit here now knowing death is horrifically permanent and that life is an unexplainable beauty. I will never forget marlborough road, and I will forever cherish the roads that my life takes me too.
Joshua Gilton Jun 2011
I’m just sitting here in the dark, waiting for this life of mine to start.
Wondering before I leave this world, will I leave a mark?
Or is it true, and I’ve been doomed, from the start.
But I’m getting so tired of being so alone,
Take this burden off my back and leave it on the road
Got to leave this place before it swallows me whole
Find a little fresh air that really suites my soul
And I’m headin out  on the road,
finding that fresh air, that suites my soul
And I’m headed out on the road, were it leads I don’t know
Now I got some good friends, and there going to go with me
Like good old Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassidy
We headed out west till we found the sea.
Hoping on this journey we find the meaning of the word free
Cause we’re breaking those bonds of that mental slavery
That were given cause we live in this society
And we are all looking for a little something to believe
But my position on that decision is completely up to me
And we headed out on the road,
finding that fresh air, that suites our soul
And we headed out on the road, were it leads I don’t want to know
Now driving across the land, and sleeping in a van
Sweating in the dessert air, getting that beach sand our hair
Sleeping on misty mountain tops, getting woke up by the cops
Just going what we can, trying to find out how to be a man
Playing music in the street, for a little change and something to eat
Spending all you time and all your cash for a little bit of fun
and a whole lot of gas
When you heading out on the road,
finding that fresh air that suites your soul
And you head out, out on the road,
were it leads you ain’t ever going to know
And you head out, out on the road,
You find that fresh air and it suites your soul
And you head out, out on the road; you find it leads you home
(Zeus's Woodshed)
Lexander J Jun 2016
By the time he got out of the front door the morning sun had fully risen. Surrounding it lay a sea of blue sky, light coloured and peppered here and there with trails of white left from distant airplanes. The birds sang in the trees, all in harmony, and a light breeze whispered, left over from the night before.

As he jumped into his car, a dusty red little Citroën, he realised that in his rushed efforts to get ready he'd put his shoes on the wrong feet. A little while ago he'd seen a documentary based on people with abnormal deformities, and there had been an American 30-something year old with two right feet. Right now, looking at his shoes, he looked a little like him; all he needed now was a group of cameras and a well-spoken, polished presenter pretending to care but really just thinking about the paycheck at the end of night. He figured all TV presenters were pretentious, fixated on climbing up the great showbiz ladder rather than helping those in need.

He grabbed them off, scuffed black business shoes to match his tattered jeans and faded blue shirt, and swapped them over. Once both shoes were on correct, he lit up a smoke and set off down the road.

Ahead of him was Lancaster Road, a sprawling stretch of asphalt tarmac that served as the primary mode of navigation through Manchester. If you were to turn left it would take you all the way into the main city, and also a stodge of backed-up traffic, and, if you chose right, to the quiet town of Penitence which was where his works was based. Going right would technically be quicker, as the road to the left led to a series of zig zag-like curves where the road layout had been forced to compensate for the huge cliff several miles to the north. That being said, Will almost always chose left, as the dual carriageway that branched off Lancaster Road was always jammed up with traffic, comprising mainly of angry motorists and haulage lorries driving in from the east. Choosing right would easily add three quarters of an hour onto his journey, and quite frankly he'd rather stare at a wall than be surrounded by blaspheming mouths and ugly red faces.

This time however he went right, joining the steady stream of cars that were already beginning to slow down. There was no apparent reason for this, for over 4 years he must have consistently turned left every morning, but today his mind had thrown a curveball - albeit a stupid one. Already running late, it had chosen to go on the longest route possible.

Good work there mate, brilliant.


50mph - 45mph - 40mph

The speedometer slowly crept down, the shudder of the lower gears gradually increasing. Clouds had now gathered in the sky, not quite bloated nor dark enough to threaten rain but it was enough to dull the sunshine into a pale, white, glow. He was now going slow enough to see the bits of clutter and ******* - discarded newspapers, cans, broken bottles - littering the pavement. Then it suddenly gave way to a rudimentary dirt road and steel crash barriers as he approached the dual carriageway.

35mph - 30mph - 25mph

Sighing, he fumbled for the radio and flicked it on, momentarily averting his gaze from the road to the numbered buttons, tuning for a station.

--- Ssssshhhh ---

Nothing but static.

**** radio! If only I could -

When he glanced up his heart nearly stopped - directly ahead of him, on the highway, stood a man. He stood with his back toward Wills car, shoulders slumped, stock still.

What-?!

Will froze as the car lurched on, the distance between the bonnet and the mans body rapidly closing. No thought came into his brain, his legs distant from his body as if untethered.

Nothing but numbness.

The future series of events played like a stop motion video inside his mind; finding the brakes and jamming them down - only too little, too late. The old man would first lean as the bumper pressed into his lower back, then snap sickeningly in half, the momentum of the car causing his body to jackhammer up the bonnet and roll over the back of the car. There he would fall once again onto the road, spine splintered and blood soaking through his shirt into a puddle on the tarmac.

STOP! Will stop the **** car!!!

He smashed the brakes down and closed his eyes.

Although the first thing taught in driving lessons is to never close your eyes, particularly during an emergency stop, the overwhelming panic threw his nerves into a spasm, and in that split second everything he was told - brake hard, clutch down, don't let the car stall - was forgotten in an instant. He knew what he should do, knew that if the wheels were even slightly turned he could cause the car to skid, or worse, flip.

Brake down, clutch down, engine off, a mantra his instructor had once sang on one of his first lessons. Will had a feeling that if Ruth Carotene could see him, see this, now she'd have some sort of coronary, or maybe an aneurysm. She'd always been set in her ways of teaching, starting each lesson going through her seemingly endless list of checkpoints, and this right here smashed every single rule she'd taught him.
Break, clutch, engine off -
Eyes, open your eyes
He did, the windscreen before him doubling for a second. His heart was pounding away, nervous sweat lining his forehead and arms. The car had stopped, and in his dumb paralysis he hadn't the faintest idea how much it had skid. Safe to say it hadn't flipped over though, unless he was upside down and didn't realise it.
Nope, the sky is still above me, he observed, and it was then he also saw the fat bald-headed guy rapping his hands against the drivers side window. The world washed back slowly, the sun white and the air filled wit beeps and the Ssssshhhhhh static of the radio. He lowered the window, allowing the honking horns to fully enter and consume the inside of the car.
"What the hell are you playing at? I nearly ran into the back of you!" the bald guy barked at him, his pudgy face both pale and angry. Will glanced in the rear view mirror and saw about a dozen or so more cars behind him, scowling faces and gesturing hands sending out messages far from morning greetings or amicable hello's.
"Sorry... There was someone in the road," he croaked, pointing to the blank space in front. Empty, nothing there.
Can't be, he was right there! Stood right there! For a second he thought the figure had been an apparition, or maybe hadn't been there all along, merely a figment of his tired mind. That's when his gaze shifted to the opposite side of the road and the mis-shapen entity clambering over the crash barrier. Whoever it was, they had crossed the road while Will had been in his daze, and it was now he could fully see it in it's ghastly glory.
"I must be ****** blind 'cause to me there ain't nobody there -"
Grotesque was the only word he could think of to describe it. Under the pallid glow of the sun its skin glistened sick-white, partially covered by a tattered grey t-shirt that billowed in the wind like torn flags. It wore shorts, also grey, it's long stick-like legs poking out like splintered tooth picks. And it's face, oh God that face. He only caught a vague view as it glanced over its shoulder, but what he saw reminded him of the ghouls that would creep out of the crypts, the nightmarish beings that stalked late night TV shows such as the Twilight Zone seeking fresh flesh to feast on. But it was human alright - it's normal, albeit disintegrating, clothing the only sign of its former non-twisted self.
Oh God -
"Hey, are you even listening? There ain't no one there *******!"
Will faced the guy, now stood so close his flabby face nearly poked through the window, and then back to the crash barrier. The fiend was gone, much to his relief.
"Sorry it must have been a bird or something, I'm really really sorry mate I thought it was a man, or a kid."
"Yeah yeah whatever, just get going and get out of my way." With that he stormed off, only stopping briefly to exchange disapproving looks with the car behind him. He drove a black sports-like car, probably a Vauxhall, and Will briefly wondered how such a small car could carry an overweight ******* like that.
*******, he muttered to himself as he restarted the engine. Turns out he'd let the car stall as well.
Back to school I guess, what would dear old Ruth say?
Setting off was easy, the fat guy overtook him almost instantly, slamming his horn as he went, but looking over to where the misfit had been was not. He wanted to look, to check in case it hadn't really gone away and was instead lurking, contorting it's swollen lips into a grin.
Grinning at him.
"Gooood evening listeners, this is RADIO XFM!"
Halfway down the radio finally clicked on, interrupting his line of thought - quite mercifully, if he was being honest. The sight of that thing not only made him feel uneasy, but he also couldn't shake off the feeling of foreboding as well. Like it was some sort of warning, a sign.
Of what?
[smashing glass smashing]
He didn't know, didn't dare to think, and as he cantered down the carriageway in the steady stream of traffic he sat silently, the radio singing out its tunes like an uninvited guest. It was an oldie that was on, maybe Boston or Bowie, he wasn't sure, but as it played on he sat in silence, the shadows in the car cutting harsh lines into his face.
Inkyu Kim Oct 2012
I Walk the Road,

A road only I can walk.

The road of me.

I slip,
I fall,
but I get up,
I keep walking.

The only thing in this life.
To walk the lonely road.

Nobody knows,
their road ends.

If their road will be harsh,
If their road will be easy,
but it is the only thing we know

The only thing we are given.

Other roads intersects,
then never seen again.
A fading memory,

a dot on the line.

Slowly fading,
as the road edges near.

Must we keep walking our lonely roads?
Must I?
I?

I walk...

I walk...

step by step.

To find the end.

Of this lonely Road.
Lexander J Jun 2016
By the time he got out of the front door the morning sun had fully risen. Surrounding it lay a sea of blue sky, light coloured and peppered here and there with trails of white left from distant airplanes. The birds sang in the trees, all in harmony, and a light breeze whispered, left over from the night before.

As he jumped into his car, a dusty red little Citroën, he realised that in his rushed efforts to get ready he'd put his shoes on the wrong feet. A little while ago he'd seen a documentary based on people with abnormal deformities, and there had been an American 30-something year old with two right feet. Right now, looking at his shoes, he looked a little like him; all he needed now was a group of cameras and a well-spoken, polished presenter pretending to care but really just thinking about the paycheck at the end of night. He figured all TV presenters were pretentious, fixated on climbing up the great showbiz ladder rather than helping those in need.

He grabbed them off, scuffed black business shoes to match his tattered jeans and faded blue shirt, and swapped them over. Once both shoes were on correct, he lit up a smoke and set off down the road.

Ahead of him was Lancaster Road, a sprawling stretch of asphalt tarmac that served as the primary mode of navigation through Manchester. If you were to turn left it would take you all the way into the main city, and also a stodge of backed-up traffic, and, if you chose right, to the quiet town of Penitence which was where his works was based. Going right would technically be quicker, as the road to the left led to a series of zig zag-like curves where the road layout had been forced to compensate for the huge cliff several miles to the north. That being said, Will almost always chose left, as the dual carriageway that branched off Lancaster Road was always jammed up with traffic, comprising mainly of angry motorists and haulage lorries driving in from the east. Choosing right would easily add three quarters of an hour onto his journey, and quite frankly he'd rather stare at a wall than be surrounded by blaspheming mouths and ugly red faces.

This time however he went right, joining the steady stream of cars that were already beginning to slow down. There was no apparent reason for this, for over 4 years he must have consistently turned left every morning, but today his mind had thrown a curveball - albeit a stupid one. Already running late, it had chosen to go on the longest route possible.

Good work there mate, brilliant.


50mph - 45mph - 40mph

The speedometer slowly crept down, the shudder of the lower gears gradually increasing. Clouds had now gathered in the sky, not quite bloated nor dark enough to threaten rain but it was enough to dull the sunshine into a pale, white, glow. He was now going slow enough to see the bits of clutter and ******* - discarded newspapers, cans, broken bottles - littering the pavement. Then it suddenly gave way to a rudimentary dirt road and steel crash barriers as he approached the dual carriageway.

35mph - 30mph - 25mph

Sighing, he fumbled for the radio and flicked it on, momentarily averting his gaze from the road to the numbered buttons, tuning for a station.

--- Ssssshhhh ---

Nothing but static.

**** radio! If only I could -

When he glanced up his heart nearly stopped - directly ahead of him, on the highway, stood a man. He stood with his back toward Wills car, shoulders slumped, stock still.

What-?!

Will froze as the car lurched on, the distance between the bonnet and the mans body rapidly closing. No thought came into his brain, his legs distant from his body as if untethered.

Nothing but numbness.

The future series of events played like a stop motion video inside his mind; finding the brakes and jamming them down - only too little, too late. The old man would first lean as the bumper pressed into his lower back, then snap sickeningly in half, the momentum of the car causing his body to jackhammer up the bonnet and roll over the back of the car. There he would fall once again onto the road, spine splintered and blood soaking through his shirt into a puddle on the tarmac.

STOP! Will stop the **** car!!!

He smashed the brakes down and closed his eyes.

Although the first thing taught in driving lessons is to never close your eyes, particularly during an emergency stop, the overwhelming panic threw his nerves into a spasm, and in that split second everything he was told - brake hard, clutch down, don't let the car stall - was forgotten in an instant. He knew what he should do, knew that if the wheels were even slightly turned he could cause the car to skid, or worse, flip.

Brake down, clutch down, engine off, a mantra his instructor had once sang on one of his first lessons. Will had a feeling that if Ruth Carotene could see him, see this, now she'd have some sort of coronary, or maybe an aneurysm. She'd always been set in her ways of teaching, starting each lesson going through her seemingly endless list of checkpoints, and this right here smashed every single rule she'd taught him.
Break, clutch, engine off -
Eyes, open your eyes
He did, the windscreen before him doubling for a second. His heart was pounding away, nervous sweat lining his forehead and arms. The car had stopped, and in his dumb paralysis he hadn't the faintest idea how much it had skid. Safe to say it hadn't flipped over though, unless he was upside down and didn't realise it.
Nope, the sky is still above me, he observed, and it was then he also saw the fat bald-headed guy rapping his hands against the drivers side window. The world washed back slowly, the sun white and the air filled wit beeps and the Ssssshhhhhh static of the radio. He lowered the window, allowing the honking horns to fully enter and consume the inside of the car.
"What the hell are you playing at? I nearly ran into the back of you!" the bald guy barked at him, his pudgy face both pale and angry. Will glanced in the rear view mirror and saw about a dozen or so more cars behind him, scowling faces and gesturing hands sending out messages far from morning greetings or amicable hello's.
"Sorry... There was someone in the road," he croaked, pointing to the blank space in front. Empty, nothing there.
Can't be, he was right there! Stood right there! For a second he thought the figure had been an apparition, or maybe hadn't been there all along, merely a figment of his tired mind. That's when his gaze shifted to the opposite side of the road and the mis-shapen entity clambering over the crash barrier. Whoever it was, they had crossed the road while Will had been in his daze, and it was now he could fully see it in it's ghastly glory.
"I must be ****** blind 'cause to me there ain't nobody there -"
Grotesque was the only word he could think of to describe it. Under the pallid glow of the sun its skin glistened sick-white, partially covered by a tattered grey t-shirt that billowed in the wind like torn flags. It wore shorts, also grey, it's long stick-like legs poking out like splintered tooth picks. And it's face, oh God that face. He only caught a vague view as it glanced over its shoulder, but what he saw reminded him of the ghouls that would creep out of the crypts, the nightmarish beings that stalked late night TV shows such as the Twilight Zone seeking fresh flesh to feast on. But it was human alright - it's normal, albeit disintegrating, clothing the only sign of its former non-twisted self.
Oh God -
"Hey, are you even listening? There ain't no one there *******!"
Will faced the guy, now stood so close his flabby face nearly poked through the window, and then back to the crash barrier. The fiend was gone, much to his relief.
"Sorry it must have been a bird or something, I'm really really sorry mate I thought it was a man, or a kid."
"Yeah yeah whatever, just get going and get out of my way." With that he stormed off, only stopping briefly to exchange disapproving looks with the car behind him. He drove a black sports-like car, probably a Vauxhall, and Will briefly wondered how such a small car could carry an overweight ******* like that.
*******, he muttered to himself as he restarted the engine. Turns out he'd let the car stall as well.
Back to school I guess, what would dear old Ruth say?
Setting off was easy, the fat guy overtook him almost instantly, slamming his horn as he went, but looking over to where the misfit had been was not. He wanted to look, to check in case it hadn't really gone away and was instead lurking, contorting it's swollen lips into a grin.
Grinning at him.
"Gooood evening listeners, this is RADIO XFM!"
Halfway down the radio finally clicked on, interrupting his line of thought - quite mercifully, if he was being honest. The sight of that thing not only made him feel uneasy, but he also couldn't shake off the feeling of foreboding as well. Like it was some sort of warning, a sign.
Of what?
[smashing glass smashing]
He didn't know, didn't dare to think, and as he cantered down the carriageway in the steady stream of traffic he sat silently, the radio singing out its tunes like an uninvited guest. It was an oldie that was on, maybe Boston or Bowie, he wasn't sure, but as it played on he sat in silence, the shadows in the car cutting harsh lines into his face.
Austin Sill Nov 2013
THE day had set as I traveled down a road,
Intimate in its design, ‘twas narrow,
directed toward the setting, golden Sun,
which, softly glowing, slowly came to rest
upon the darkening valleys of this world.
The road was long yet well supplied with fuel,

or, signs were scattered pointing towards the fuel,
‘twas the duty of the rider on the road
to refuel lest he be lost in the world.
Yet as I rode my eyes began to narrow,
losing sight of signs 'til my coach did rest,
still, as I lost my pace set with the sun.

There, still, I sat and lost sight of the Sun.
Alone, I did not think to seek out fuel,
but I looked elsewhere for a place to rest.
In utter darkness I wandered from the road
into a wood, welcoming, less narrow
and filled with mysteries of a whole new world.

My heart pounded as I entered this world.
By now my mind, had but slipped from the Sun,
and it's warm glow on the road, (too narrow).
I was not limited by need of fuel,
like I had to work for on the narrow road,
But vices here offered me so much rest.

So deeper I wandered to seek out rest.
Rest, that would fit me best within this world.
In darkness there, out of view of the road
in dark, I felt the cold absence of Sun,
and there... I ached. My body called for fuel.
I looked around...my options not so narrow

as they were upon the road, (so narrow).
But, as I took my fuel and found my rest
in the wood... I ached as I ate the fuel.
Still I craved more, it hurt. Trapped now in this world
that seemed more like a cage. And for the Sun
I longed, as I remembered its warmth on the road.

So there I sit entrapped within this world.
I have the key and I can sense the Sun,
But..could I, now, return to that narrow road?
In the form of a Sestina

— The End —