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Bison Feb 2016
There's an impossibility standing adjacent to the nearest star bound body
It waves and beckons with a sincere familiarity so unnaturally
I am the end of the undulating tunneled vision
I am become a silhouette of a dead city caught in the decaying story bones fiction

We are all emptiness and our emptiness is how we define ourselves.
But our emptiness will become a river into which we will find the world to be held.
The universe exists in the eyes of those who live without the sight to see
Those breathing, freezing stars that burn into the heart buried deep.

Constructs of will and portions of strength cut out the guilt of my youth
All roads lead to the sky but I will not seek to understand you
Futures are made in blinks and beats
Are they aware of the way we lay with our tangled feet under these threadbare sheets?

Follow the light of my darkness
A single shot of whiskey and a conversation whisks away my heart's hardness
All cool and breezy across the great green oceans
I'll meet you halfway between loss and a facsimile of dreamed emotions
Butch Decatoria Nov 2018
Where all walks begin.
Some are quick to find their end,
Wise still journeying.
Revised.
Daniel eason Nov 2018
Morphing objects, breathing walls
Gypsy caravans, market stalls
Roads to nowhere
Visions in mind
Where people are free happy and kind
Out there somewhere yet to discover
Chatting freely amongst one and other
As seasons go by people come and go
Letting go of what they used to know
A vison about a road to nowhere
Commuter Poet Nov 2017
Which path to take?

Become lost 
And follow destruction?

Or find 
A truer way
And live with the higher self?

A self that does not blame others
A self that strives to live humanely
A self that creates 
And does not destroy 

Which person to become?

Embattled, defeated
Drifting, rootless?

Or strong, grounded
Honest, compassionate

Which path to take?

I may need a guide, kind and true.
I may need a friend, clear and strong
I may need support 
To help me climb the many steps

All are there, 

But 

Which path to take?
10th November 2017
Outside Words Nov 2018
Like a flame igniting an old engine
A frisk of energy sparked
Turning my rusty, frozen gears
And restoring my memories of you.
In a hidden corridor in time -
A dimension since locked away
We two share an instant -
An unobtainable, infinite moment.
Like a fog creeping in on my soul -
An ironic, melancholy nostalgia;
I dream of sunlight on canopy roads
In a place I once called home.
Trapped in a reality without you
We've since broken our promise,
Extinguishing the embers
We swore to smolder forever.
This life is a sort of purgatory -
A spiritual test and journey;
A short waiting period before
We again walk hidden corridors.
© Outside Words
jane taylor May 2016
precious innocent soul
skipping rocks
on cobblestone roads
vulnerable untarnished pure
no residue of earthly soil

return me to that naiveté
unburdened by layers
of fake masks
and perfect capped teeth
in narcissistic societies

but I shan’t grasp
at ethereal edges
of nebulousness
and ephemeral
innocence

i shall endure
what I abhor
a master’s soul
cannot be forged
in paradise

wisdom’s essence
‘tis not pristine white
hints of ivory
tinge the effervescence
of the sage’s breath

©2016janetaylor
CK Baker Nov 2017
mirrored fly-glass
and polished chrome
are tinted
in the blood orange dawn
running dogs of lummi
hush quiet
on this celestial
summer morn

clubman bars
and tan saddles
strapped to
the lowered hind
skull caps
and fitted chaps
for the open flow
and rich peripheral scenes

concessions at the peace arch
(from the blue-coated fuzz)
black *****
and maples
cake the bow hill
and chuckanut

choppers launch
at edison
(with their metal fleck
and tuft)
a half moon rises
on the concho
and interstellar cross

cinnamon gulls
and ravens
scour the netted docks
warlock driftwood
and row homes
spot the winding
coastal roads

rumbling sounds
at the packer slew;
the redolence
of briny bay
alive
on the overlook
at fairhaven
Spent a couple days in late September on a motorcycle trip with my brother...weaving through the small towns and villages of the Pacific Northwest.  Magnificent!
Try Aug 2018
its up to you on how it unfolds
simple to taste complex to face
yet you escape with out a trace
making your own way through mountain trails
skins pale breads stale hit another rail
will they even read your mail
was it just a tall tale
are you really west coast bound
will your talents be noticed
will you be over whelmed by emotions
is it real or truly fake
possible the biggest mistake was
not to chase the dream


             ©  Try
undefined Oct 2018
gonna make him a man someway
forgotten hopes of yesterdays
gonna keep his head down & learn to pray...

lonely roads
when you're all alone, all you know
are these lonely roads

A razor drug across an old man's chin
getting him ready for a big last day to begin
dressed up fancy in a nice big box
family gathers with friends in good thoughts

To say "we'll miss you" to a loved one's loss
Years done spent. Life's only real cost.


She kept those feelings locked up tight
a little place just behind her eyes
brushed her hair and said, "everything's
alright"

nobody thought to ask
until things had gotten so bad
what was it that made her feel so
trapped ?

lonely roads
into unknown
which way to go (it's hard to know)
on these lonely roads

Railyard cars have all gone home
a younger man's dreams up in smoke
a story long been told
ends before it was ever wrote

Belt fastened & hair is combed
time to leave it behind & go
with ragged jeans still not sewn
times gone by of lonely roads

lonely roads
into unknown
it's hard to know (which way to go)
on a lonely road
When crossing the road look.
Look left, look right.
When you're kissing your lover,
Don't look stay blind.
Daisy Marrow Oct 2013
Where are your wings now?
How can they save you now?
Left alone, barely able to stand on your own two feet.
You walk a thousand miles down a dirt road
finding hunger along the way.
You drink a gallon of water for the first time
so everything in the world stops and leaves you breathless.
You can't believe the feeling of pain and dwell in sorrow
over something, you can't control.
You set the world on fire but never knew how to use a match.
Now you're a nomad dreaming of meeting someone who will help you put out the flames
but instead, everyone glares at you while walking around in their ashes.

And if you knew what you know now nothing would have changed,
and everything would be in its place.
You wish to undo what has been done
but you have a heavy soul
surrounded by mountains and oceans.
So let the sun die down
and let the morning pour in hope of anew to come.

You used to be a beautiful angel
but now your grace has been ripped out.
Now you're a human
with ***** feet,
a hard soul,
broken wings,
and scarred and cut skin
you wish to just be left behind.
Let the wind take you and lead you
across the winding roads,
into the hands, you solely search for to help and to hold.
The only hands that can make you feel whole and holy,
even without a halo.
Castiel
Supernatural
2013
RAO Aug 2018
2 Liters Width this Bottle Neck had her Thirsty when i Pop Off.
"Hes Got a Unique Meter!"

Thinkin outside my Thoughts Manipulate Face hands off my Clock Box a Movie Theater
Soft Drinkin my Equilibriums "DAnkh"...
Hook up The Bracelet of Anubis Call it my I Watch
Achilles Heels turning red and blue takin on a Dog WALK
no roads better to cross Sapphire bird " Call that a Cold ****¡!"
from a "Pacman" in Paris Pans Panning Labyrinths A Mazed running on music like Tha Rock whippin better then jimmy Neutrons Stovetopper
... Style makes Our Classic Modern Eighties cheatah?
UhDDuz(UDDERS+ADIDAS) "GODDARD" "SkyWalker" Call that Harry Potter at the Roboxer smoking bud from jimmy Wonkers GobStoppers.
give that a D +
Oh Gosh *** in CVS / HoMâge/ Po-ca-hon-tas chair gifted like Op-rahs-Hola-no bras vuela-ar tuoi o-Yâ aur-revior no-mas Veteran Indi-En Sit-in on ma stick shift of Mua Cö-Brâ..... engine Knocking sicker then Jehovah with pneumonia
Can we get every Ticket so i can load the Super Bowl Comon!
Makin her Jaw Drop ready to turn Dragon Rude into an tan Dra
Dolph-in ima RAOBAWT fly fishin Santa Cla₩§ Idle Hands Examined n Exposé Gods
lips im here to naturally Lift I'd Volunteer for Slavery if the Hills were rich like Jessica Albas Exposed ***

yo problems in the street
I get hi on Florida Keys You a Hero Touch Down!
Stranger Danger in my End Zone
Lol
Traveler Oct 2013
So familiar these roads I travel
But where does reason lead
Now concrete which once was gravel
That's all that remains of my beliefs...

The mysterious remains as is
A ghost of a chance I may be right
There's more to ponder obsessively
Upon my bed late at night...
Use more then once

Traveler Tim
re to 03-19
One year ago the 23rd of December I stood at the crossroads to life having
just lost me
wife
and with no place to go with and very little prospects of surviving my
loss
But one year on I've come back to the crossroads to find my chosen road
and
to where It will lead me I've made my choice and
I'll stay
on that road till I come to the end
Losing my wife I felt like I was stood at a cross roads to live four roads but only could  chose one, I think I've chose
the right one
Antino Art Sep 2018
Who draws strength
from watching the passage of time
after midnight
blur against the windows
of a moving train bound
for ends uncertain.

Who walks most balanced
on the beams of empty tracks.

In the shuffle of strangers
at a crosswalk, who finds
direction.

Who sees
clearer through rain.

Who finds their place
in the limbo of airport terminals,
on delayed flights
between chapters,
over open roads that branch
into tales of cities unseen,
in the turn of pages unwritten.

Who can keep track of time
during the improvised chaos of jazz,
catching notes scattered
in the winds of horns.

Who understands
that wind moves
fastest through dark places like tunnels under Harlem,
during storms named in late August.

Who finds their center
hurled in flight,
always coming and going.
Storm flight trains movement
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
I’ve kept to the high road in life,
only in my mind.
Thinking myself wise to avoid
the pitfalls others faced.

A warm wind blew up from my past
and there you stood.
A memory of childhood
and view to my future.

Old and new, my path I find in you.
You’ve led me to the back roads,
on trails I’d left ignored,
looking outside the familiar at you.

For a while we walked together,
hand in hand following love’s path
caught up in the voice it called.
Suddenly, I found you had gone, taking another path.

Now I’m left abandoned, alone again
blinded by my fear to move.
For I’ve lost my way on these back roads
without my guide and without my love.

Can you find me hiding here beneath this veil
Can you see the real me?
Did you look inside this woman to find the
frightened insecure girl wanting only to be loved.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Ilion gray Sep 2013
I just awoke from a dream!
I saw Israel raise palms with Palastine
I saw Syrians
Walking along the jordan
I saw palm branches waving when Saudi Arabia
Threw a festival  in the tattered roads of Baghdad
I saw history melt down into earth into hysteria;
To make an Archipelago of puddles Joyous jubilation!

I turned a bit and slightly woke ,
Then falling back through space and mind
I saw the great leaders meet upon the rock and speak of the coming golden age!  
Yet from the sky beyond the sky as if its speaking had deleted time came a voice the sound of ten thousand thunderstorms enraged exclaimed "
It is too late!
laura Jul 2018
baby I got hours of green
to edit, mondays goes dumb hard
like kicking kittens like footballs

leg day to finish myself off
to seal my confidence into the night
i hate days like these, rocky roads

and nowhere to hide from the sun
and the ****, being assimilated into
the lifeless machine in a lifestyle-less queue
Miss Saitwal Jul 2018
That workaholic lady who's always on call
& keep up with the market cells,
That newly married lady with chunky "red bangles"
talking to her husband with both earphones and blush on.

That man with a big fat stomach filled with his wife's love;
That teen who is on the edge of being deaf
because he can't do without the earphones.

That struggler who always stands at the back door;
That dreamer who's lost looking outside the window;
That person who's scared to get lost so stay active on the maps;
That disturbed mind who is coping up listening to George Michael;
That overworked soul who can crash anywhere.

That lady who choose to sit and freeze to death under a broken A/C unit, rather than stand with a five kilo backpack in a crowded jungle.
That girl who eats like a thief by hiding her food in the bag;
That tall enthusiastic freak who swings
and does gymnastics in a moving bus.

That granny who spot more trends than teens and follows them;
That old man who still can't keep up with the uneven roads
and the confused climate of Bombay.

That teen who lives with/on an Ipod,
instead of the 90s kids who survived on colouring books;
Those kids who believe their job is to fill the voids in the still crowd by surpassing like electrons to the magnetic field.

That man who is inspired by Raju Rastogi from 3 Idiots,
chanting to death and can't stop stressing on his responsibilities;
That entrepreneur with a head held high and red lipstick,
who never believes in a 9 to 5 corporate "mistake",

That blogger who can't think offline and is born to shine on the Gram,
That man who switches from Linkedln to South Indian action movie when the masses exit.
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