"roadtrips" poems
Nothing ever comes close to my love for coffee. Not even my love for shoes, music, and photography combined.
I love my coffee during those hectic stretches of time when games and school exams and deadlines are held in the same weeks.
I love my coffee during the all-nighters and sleepless nights to keep up with everything going on.
I love my coffee during those sleepy and low energy moments after the early morning trainings.
I love my coffee during the days I am running late in my first period classes because I may have overslept.
I love my coffee during the hangover mornings after those wild drinking parties.
I love my coffee during the random and spontaneous hangouts at cafés.
I love my coffee during the long roadtrips with family or teammates.
I love my coffee early in the morning and late at night. I love my coffee at any time of the day.
I love my coffee for its sweet and intoxicating aroma. Just a sniff and it already feels like I am at home.
I love my coffee served hot that it reaches deep into the soul. I love my coffee served cool that it refreshes and chills the soul.
I love my coffee for the energy it brings me. I love my coffee for making my heart beat faster.
All of that swiftly changed when I met her. In just a short moment of time of exchanging the most basic informations between us.
I do not love her but she gets me through those hectic stretches of time.
I do not love her but she helps me keep up with everything and keeps me up at night.
I do not love her but she shares her energy with me after the early morning trainings.
I do not love her but she patiently waits for me for my first period classes whenever I oversleep.
I do not love her but she takes care of me during and after those wild drinking parties.
I do not love her but she keeps up with all my spontaneity.
I do not love her but she loves long drives and adventures herself.
I do not love her but she is always there for me no matter what, when, and where.
I do not love her but she really smells so nice every time. I do not love her but she feels like home.
I do not love her but she knows me so well including my deepest, darkest secrets. I do not love her but I always find myself looking forward to chilling out with her.
I do not love her but she really inspires me. I do not love her but she makes my heart beat faster.
Nothing ever came close to my love for coffee. Until I met her.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 5:03 AM UTC
I want to move on,
But I am stuck.
Stuck on the memories.
Stuck on what could've been.
Stuck on wondering what went wrong.
Stuck on wondering what more I could've done.
I am stuck on the way you made me laugh.
I am stuck on the way you held my hand.
I am stuck on the way you held me in your arms, as we gazed up at the stars on a cold December night.
I am stuck on our roadtrips and our perfectly imperfect duets.
I am stuck on who you empowered and encouraged me to be.
I am stuck on how you made me feel and who you were when I was falling in love.
Now, I see you,
And every time I do,
My heart breaks all over.
I see you talk to everyone else in the room, and bit by bit I fall apart inside.
I see you with other girls, encouraging them the way you did me at the beginning.
I see you moving on, completely unstuck,
Completely unphased by the torment I am in.
You made me genuinely happy.
Happier than I've ever been.
And I can choose to be joyful
and patient
and kind
and humble
and good,
But happiness is stuck in the past with you.
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 12:06 AM UTC
My idea of a party is having sand in my hair while I smell of burnt wood and midnight barbecue
Music will be the waves that crash and return and messy chords on an acoustic guitar
And I will remember when we both wished that we could go on road trips on hours like this,
And how eventually time ran short for us, so we're finally here
I want to get drunk on the moonlight while I sip on yesterday's memories
I want to talk about the good times
I will fall asleep enveloped in nature's arms and dance while the stars twinkle high above
My idea of a party are late night drives and stops at gasoline stations at unearthly hours,
Conversations that result to slurred words and cackling with the windows rolled down,
Romanticizing over the architecture of rotting wood and crumbling concrete
Books and printed words under a flashlight
My idea of a party are rolled sleeves and roadtrips away from every soul and every touch of skin,
Away from the world, except yours I will never grow tired of
n.j.
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
It was the summer.
It was the summer
Of roadtrips
And heartbreak,
Of wave breaks,
And road rage,
And sunsets,
And guilt trips.
It was the best of times
And the fast of times
And the worst of times
And the last of times
It was the summer.
It was the summer of
Tollbooths and
Accelerating cars
And as quick as you go
You pull what chases you
Just at fast,
Newton laws,
For it was the summer.
It was the summer
Of never and always
Of fears and futures
Of clairvoyance
And of foolishness.
To look so on trees,
In Summer's waning scorch
And not see the leaves
Changing, is blindness.
But it was the summer
Of changes unseen.
Autumn slipped in silently,
Not through the back,
Like a servant,
But through the front door,
Like an assassin.
Words were had,
Shots were fired.
Summer is dead,
Cradled in Autumn's arms,
Green life turning to crimson
And yellow, and brown.
The past is only
As good as our last summer.
And this one, well,
It was the summer.
It was the summer.
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 1:47 PM UTC
Cracked pavement stretching ever on,
Rolling hills no longer majestic,
Scraggly plain bushes all the same,
clooudless sky a dull dull blue,
and that stupid song on the fuzzy radio for the millionth time.
God this is boring.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
When I die
(if my parents don't know)
remember to weigh me judiciously with authorial intent.
Don't let my father go to the front
and tell everyone what a good daddy's girl I was
how I loved fishing with him
and wore my camo pants like a champ.
I was 2.
I didn't know better.
Don't let my mother's lip tremble
or let her say how much my writing made her cry
how I spent my evenings worshiping textbooks
and typing til 2 am for large red A's on my papers.
I was worshiping the body and mind of a guy
who never wanted me back.
Don't let my father see my body
the tattoo next to my left hip bone
the one I got my freshman year
because why the **** not.
Don't let my mother see my face
the rings in my lip and nose and ears
because they told me only ***** had those
and I wanted to see if they were right.
Don't let my father tell stories afterwards
all my achievements and awards
every 100% I ever gave.
He never told them to me.
He only has pride in the dead.
Don't let my mother tell stories afterwards
because she'll get them right
but tell them wrong.
She'll either laugh or cry halfway through
and I don't know which is worse.
Don't let my father sing the hymns
or even say how much he loved hearing my voice.
I could never hear myself over him.
Don't let my mother lament that I never sang for her
she knew why
she married him.
Don't let them tell you how I was a good Catholic girl
who always went to mass
and prayed the rosary on roadtrips
and never ate meat on Fridays during Lent (not even on accident).
I stopped going to mass after freshman year
and never prayed while driving
and made it a point to eat as much meat
as I possibly ******* could.
Don't let them tell you how I was a good sister
how excited I was when she was born
so helpful and caring.
She never fell off the bed when she was little.
I kicked her.
But especially don't let them trick you into thinking I was perfect.
I do not want to be canonized by my parents
who knew so little
and saw even less
because I hid myself away
so they wouldn't be
disappointed.
In fact,
don't let them come at all.
They'll be mourning the wrong girl.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
Talk to me
Talk to me about half-finished journals and empty theaters
Talk to me about the calluses on the soles of your feet
Do you think they look like art?
Talk to me about the bobby pins stuck between the sheets of your bed
Talk to me about the broken doorbell in your childhood house
Why have you never gotten it fixed?
Do you think it says a lot about your family?
Do you think it’s a metaphor for your parents’ relationship?
Talk to me about the ghosts in your head
I wanna see if they look like mine
If they were friends in some past, unfulfilled life
Talk to me about kites
Talk to me about knee high socks
What do they remind you of?
Talk to me about spilled lemonade
Does the sourness still linger on your tongue
Long after the mess as been mopped up?
Talk to me about your 10th grade English teacher
Do you resent her blatant favouritism?
Do you wonder why she didn’t like you the best?
Do you ever wonder why
It seems like nobody likes you the best?
Talk to me about the peonies in the garbage chute
Talk to me about untied shoelaces
And an 8 year old’s skinned knees
Talk to me about slippery floors
Talk to me about illegal downloads
Talk to me about Tarsiers
Talk to me about oil pastels
Do you prefer them over any other art medium
Because they are dirtier, messier and more difficult to work with it?
Talk to me about recycling
Do you think it’s pointless?
Or do you think it’s gonna make a significant difference?
Talk to me about Broadway musicals
Talk to me about Hercules
Have you ever dreamed of being immortalized
Through the whispering of the stars?
Talk to me about god
Do you think god made man
Or did man make god?
Talk to me about clay pots
Talk to me about cacti
Talk to me about the color grey
Talk to me about plastic balloons
When did you learn that the art of letting go
Is closely intertwined with the tragedy of loss?
Talk to me about films
Talk to me about knuckles
What do you tell your grandmother
When she asks why they are bruised and wounded?
Talk to me about Geishas
Talk to me about roadtrips
And that one time when you were 15
And you drove away in your older brother’s car
Feeling young and reckless and so so alive
Talk to me about pain
Every stabbing hurt
Every mouth filled with blood
Talk to me about joy
Both the abundance and the lack of it
Talk to me about love
And warmth
And light
And the sound of coming home
Talk to me
Write your life’s story on torn Christmas wrappers
And I will hold them in my hands like sacred beads of prayer
Talk to me
Open the cracks of your spine and engulf me in the shade of your eyes
Talk to me
Let me in
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
The difference between work & play Is not that much.
It’s the difference between getting’ ***** & doin’ ***** deeds
Ramblin’ on long old roadtrips, old oaks,
And whatever happens in between
We tell odes
The difference between work & play is not that much
It’s the difference between broke bank accounts,
And boring accountants
Scrapin’ a little off the top here and there
To splash into Bitcoins
You’re still broke
But no longer boring
The difference between work and play
Lies in what makes ones days
And different amounts of up and downs
And days gone unmade,
Its not how its played
Its how one has lived
Remember you are living when you work
So button up plaid shirt,
and go chop wood
in the dirt,
And let writing this poem go
And Let there be a sequel waiting tomorrow
heal the pain of having no money to play with in the working world
Only words.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
you and i, you and i
dreamcatchers blown by the wind
world maps crumpled full of
what it seems to be a trace of late-night roadtrips
laidbacks in sneakers and flannels nonchalantly strolled the road
you and i, you and i
never got tired of prose, whispering a life to handwritten mess
on our backs we feel heaved carrying dreams that seemed like forever
what a wanderlust soul that we both have
show me the limit of the sky
tell me about the universe inside us, and all the stars, and broken dreams
sing me a goodbye lullaby
run me a thousand miles to the top of the world
and we will scream our lungs out
this night is ours
life seems like at its fullest whenever we are together
writhed, we refused to fall back into
heartbroken poems we wrote on our once scarred wrists
small talks, ******** about our enemies, about light colored eyed boys
there's no mistake amidst
seven billion people on earth, seems like we got lucky with our fate
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:40 AM UTC
Take me to cliffs, love. Push me off every single one of your cliffs. I am ready for the fall, no ropes around me, I will let my fear of heights swallow me whole. Is it still called fear if it takes me to the highest of highs with no need to scream?
Take me to oceans, love. To seas, lakes, rivers. Saltwater is healthy for the soul, love. If your tears allow you to quench the thirst to grow, I will let you wallow. I cannot swim but your love taught me that the deepest waters can only drown me if I let it. Drown me.
Take me to places, love. To roadtrips, car radio sing-alongs, sneaky hand-holding, and restaurant tables for two. Keep me company during campfires, uneasy dreaming, and watergun fights. I will build us a treehouse, overlooking all of that we wish to leave behind.
Take me anywhere you like, love. I am yours for the taking.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
i never really understood what
"it comes and goes in waves" meant
but now i can see
no matter how stationed i am to the floor
imagining my feet are tree roots extending into the earth
i have always felt myself
falter with the tides heavy motions
stumbling along in a dance i dont know the steps to
falling face first behind the crowd of people who have got it figured out
jealousy hitting the palms of my hands before the asphalt
missing you is a constant heartrate
but these memories, feeling you so vividly it shakes me down
it comes and goes in waves
i never understood what
"time heals all wounds" meant
because my skin is painted with bruises that share no connotation with love
even when they fade i can recount the ache theyve left
like a worn out map
of every time i have pretended not to hear the exhaustion drip from your words
i used to hear your voice in my favorite melodies
and share my songs with you like lullabies
but now music is just noise to erase your voice
i dont think that time will ever take you away from me
i dont think i'd want it to
i wish on every flash of light and every makeshift airplane shooting star that i could leave the piece of me that can't stop thinking of you on one of these one-time roadtrips with no destination
no cliche seems to cover how quickly the word love disintegrates or how mixing up being happy with being scared is coincidentally more common than anyone would have expected.
i will forget this trainwreck you put me in
this half angry poetry you made me write
because even if it holds no meaning,
time heals all wounds, it comes in goes in waves
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
Fall in love with a dreamer and he'll make you a cup of coffee. He'll promise to read you books through the night and love, he will hold you tight. With the windows open, the two of you shall gaze at the stars. Listening to each other's future, he will hum you a song with a moonlight from afar.
Fall in love with a poet and he'll make you his poem. He'll weave your favorite letters as he soothes your soul. He will bury himself in your lines as he reads your fears. He'll share laughters with you and will add no grief. With a story marked, he'll make your love a history. And darling, his musings will be sang as you live through.
Fall in love with an adventurer and he'll take you to your fantasies. He will take you on roadtrips, on places you wondered to see. While your song plays loud on the radio, the two of you shall be young in time. You are free to live, to shout 'till your breath is gone. Losing in wonders with him has never been this fun.
And when you fall in love with all of these, you shall fall in love with your world. You shall live in your mind. You will be trapped in your fantasy. Your wonderland.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 5:07 AM UTC
*inside the feverish dynamic
moment of time
ticking the clock so fast
feels like a short period
but so many precious;
this beauty
of wanders of every scene
you cant touch it
but you feel so much things,
the places will always be your
number one home.
A truly speechless chilled
on the way to roadtrips
secluded with its music
I just can't help
cause ****
it feels so good to be there~~~
too good~ Nothing else.*
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
Summer Alliteration
She brought sunrise stars
and sandy slippers
Scented air
of smiles and ***
Her sundress breeze
blooming to reveal
brilliant and beat tattoos
hidden bikini bliss
Tan tone lovely
lotioned touch
Random roadtrips round
Water and the way
Beautiful bright beaches
dazzle our days
Bright moon battles
shimmering sparkle shores
Holding hands
on the path and at the pool
Party on the patio
backyard barbeque beckons
Children chasing
Lightning bugs and lemonade
Playing in the park
parents on the porch
Blessed Solstice storms
stolen September morns
baseball broadcasts while
sparrow and starlings serenade
Carnivals and cotton candy
piled pink
sweet sticky sugar
sunsets shine
Halter-top halos
and bike ride breakfasts
Fuel firework fun
and pinwheel popcorn parades
Late and lazy afternoons
in white linen love
She brought Summer with her
And she shared it with me
Jul 2, 2020
Jul 2, 2020 at 2:30 PM UTC
My love for you is a paper lantern lit in the sky
The northern lights in Iceland
Big Sur drives along the coast
Light house journeys
The hills behind my house towering my childhood
Walks around my neighborhood
The passenger seat in my car
Oregon and roadtrips
The grey stripped sweater that I sleep with every night
The plants that I desperately try to keep alive
Late nights on my red couch kissing each other, trying to be closer and closer
My 21st birthday in Napa when I imagined what living with you would be like as we sat on the couch in the hotel room watching dumb tv shows
Carriage Hills
Music that only you could ever relate to you
Words that only you would say
Lists that we created together
Random places where we've peed or kissed
Jumping into a body of water with you in the middle of the night
My love for you exists when i close my eyes because when i close my eyes and think of my happiest moments i see you
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
some say, if you pay very close attention.. life doesn't actually **** I mean look at the weather, some days we see this beautiful flaming ball in the sky that makes us warm. or heck somedays freaking water just magically falls from the sky and if you listen and look closely it's beautiful. now for people, some can me cold hearted, rude, and judgy but that's only 10% of us, the rest of the humans are amazing and kind, innocent, imaginative, interesting and just ******* cool. as for education, you may hate it now, but once you get to college and get an actually job it's amazing. and that cute apt you've been wishing for in nyc, if you dream it you can do it. just keep learning and moving forward. now cars are the coolest ******* things ever, you get into a piece of metal and go anywhere. anywhere you want, hell u could even drive to Oregon right now if you really wanted to. memories, coolest thing ever. basically something that happened in the past that you can remember. and anything can trigger a memory. like a song, smell, place, person. a memory is the coolest thing ever because it's something you'll never forget. like your trip to six flags, your dad taking you out of ice cream when you got a good grade, Christmas Day every single year, visiting your grandmother, freaking summer memories are the best. even the little things are amazing, like good friends, earning money, eating your fav food, being fabulous, getting to *** after you've held it in for 5 hrs, disneyland, traveling, airplanes, roadtrips, taking showers, sleeping, laughing, dancing, swimming, reading, and even smiling. so the next time you say your life ***** just look at the positive things and I promise you, you will be happy again.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 12:28 AM UTC
*i hope it's okay
that i want to hold your hand all the time
i hope it's okay
that i want to kiss you all the time
and intertwine my fingers in your hair
i hope it's okay
that my favorite place in the world is right next to you
especially when you're sleeping and i can feel your chest move up and down
like the ebb and flow of the ocean
i hope it's okay
that your laugh makes me happy
and that your smile is something i survive off of
and that i do stupid things sometimes when you're sad
just to see that smile again
i hope it's okay
that i want to spend my weekends with you
going on roadtrips and letting the sun soak into our cells
listening to all our favorite songs
and realizing how bad they actually are and laughing at each other
because we can
i hope it's okay
that i want to make you happier than you've ever been before
and that i want to make you feel important
because you are
to me
and if that's the only thing i ever tell you it would be okay
because you deserve to know
and i hope all these things are okay
because i don't think i can ever not love you
but if you didn't want me the way i want you
and if you didn't love me the way i love you
and if you didn't want to do all these things with me
i would walk away
because you mean more to me than anyone else
and all i want is for you to be happy
and if i'm not enough for you
then it's okay*
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 8:46 PM UTC
*Bending roads beckons me
through trees' trepid shadows
Beyond the clouds, heaven calls me
while the sky swallows my sorrows.*
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 10:44 AM UTC
To escape
The horrors
And reality
Of life
Is enjoyable
May it be
Roadtrips
And city lights
Or highway reflectors
May it be
In relics
In museums
Or paintings
In hallways
May it be
In dark movie theaters
On summer nights
Or in sunlit parks
On summer afternoons
May it be
With the love of your life
On condominium balconies
Or on soft beds
Escape
The reality
Of the cruel world
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
i'm running out of things to distract
me from the milky skyline
and patchy green, and
i'm running out of ways to push away the sting that comes with
being reminded of you whenever i
take roadtrips and
holidays that are meant to be serene.
why can't i just forget you?
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 11:58 PM UTC
In the winter of my life
I don't miss my youthful body
As much as i miss my youthful spirit
I was full of life those days
Oh...what days they were!
Hanging out with friends
Going on roadtrips
Discovering,exploring
Constantly on the move
Boredom and loneliness were alien to me
My confidence was sky high
Sometimes i felt like there was nothing that i couldn't do
I had the courage to try new things
And now as i look at myself
Fragile bones
Grey hair
Sans teeth
Wrinkled face
Tired soul
Tired mind
I wonder-'what's happened to me?'
I have been told that it's all a part of the natural ageing process
But i still find it so hard to accept
I've tried to live the best i could
Sure i have regrets
But some moments of pride as well
I've seen the many facets of life
The many colours that it offers
I've seen the highs
I've experienced the lows
I've seen friends turn foes
I've seen war
I've felt love
I've seen days on the street
And nights on park benches
But i was strong then
I had the courage and the will to fight
Nothing deterred me or bogged me down
I've lost that strength now
Life has taken it's toll on me
I feel i can't go any further
What i miss most now is the joy of company
It's just me and the four walls
Sitting alone in my room
I wait for my time
I don't keep much news of the outside world now
I've virtually lost every connection
You see loneliness is new to me
And i'm not quite sure as to how to deal with it
So i guess i'll just be patient
If you notice you'll see that when you reach the winter of your life
The circle of your life is complete
In effect you are back to where you started
You become a child once again
It's like a man is reborn before he dies
While it's exciting to reach that stage
At times it's so scary
But then such is the journey of life
And i guess that's what makes it such an incredible experience
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
seashell pink lips | blankets spread out on grass in the middle of the night | stargazing
roadtrips | strawberry pop rocks | laughing with your friends
fireworks | the warmth of sunshine | ice cream melting on your tongue
kissing | bathing suits under clothes | holding hands
drunken giggles | campgrounds | cooling off in lakes
the feeling of freedom | melting marshmallows over a fire | movie marathons
long walks with your best friend | adrenaline rushes | soda fizzing in a glass
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 1:01 PM UTC
I really really wanted it to be you, I wanted you to be the one that could love me the way I deserve because oh boy how much I liked you. I asked you if there was anything else we could do, but you couldn't think of anything... you couldn't say anything to make me stay because I knew I had to go. It was hard because you weren't doing anything wrong, but neither doing anything right. And it was ******* hard because the part of me that died for you was having trouble accepting the fact that you and I are not gonna happen. I cannot think of you without smiling and crying at the same time, at least for now.
You were what could've been but wasn't, you were the one I hoped one day we'd do roadtrips with your sister and her family, you were the one I hoped would send me flowers, and surprise me with a kiss, and take me to places, and share memories and moments. You were the one I thought I would take with my family on vacation. You were the ******* one I thought we could go swim and walk and talk and fall madly in love. I close my eyes and I see us holding each other so tight and so infinite... I want to remember us in the rooftop watching the sunset, but more than that, I want YOU to remember it. I have to let you go, but please... don't forget me.
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 12:38 AM UTC
When I picture us together it's almost perfect.
We always have a blast, laughing together and talking about everything and nothing.
How beautiful it would be to add summer dates, roadtrips, singing in the car and kisses to that.
But that picture is cracking.
It's getting clearer that we will never be.
It hurts. My god it hurts..
You must be feeling it too, but something is holding you back.
I think about you all the time, and what we could be.
How do I bury my feelings for you when you make my heart skip beats when I hear you laugh and smile at me?
How do I let this go when everytime you look me deep in the eyes I just wanna kiss you?
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 7:40 AM UTC