"rushhour" poems
Motorway Lamppost
Buzzard with his Evil Face
Watches the Rushhour
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
a day
with contrasts faded
hazy smoke from
distant forest burnings
skylight diffused..
traffic at rushhour
a monotonous din..
such muffled appearances
invited a more
exacting look..
white paint splotches
accidental decorations
to a darkened parkbench
suggests here a distant
supernova explosion..
a motorcycle pistons'
high pitch report
self identification
in the traffic din..
an airliner's orange
contrails laced the
gray cloudless sky..
then a sudden appearance
a haloed quartermoon
light enhancement
with circular glow..
yes contrasts seemed to
speak on this day
bursting the haze...
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 11:09 PM UTC
A simple dust covered plastic mistletoe,
that stayed stapled above
the front door all year round
and a carton of Camel smokes wrapped
in red and green wrapping paper,
under the Christmas tree,
with a big silver "store bought" bow on it,
the tag said "Merry Christmas, FROM: SANTA"
is how I remember Christmas.
Ahh!! The Joy of Christmas
and no chestnuts roasting by an open fire.
We did have a real pine tree though.
My highlight of the holidays
was going down to the local VFW
and seeing a "Jolly Old Elf" with a fake beard,
he was really a fat, retired police officer.
But still Saint Nick to an eight year old boy.
You see that was the time when you got
out of the house.
When "he" started downing his
Christmas "spirits" and *******
down those cancer sticks.
The fumes were so thick at times,
I swore I was in LA ,
during rushhour on the 5.
After the frantically ripping open the presents,
us kids would dash off to our bedrooms.
Taking one or two gifts with us,
we created our own
getaway world, our own Christmas of Joy.
Then.
It began.
With voices raised,
even the mice scurried away.
I would wrap the pillows over my ears
and I would pray for peace on earth
and good will toward men.
Ghosts of my Christmas past
still seep into my memory at times
and
they haunt me till this day.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 1:54 AM UTC
rushhour,
past flowers,
love lost,
cowards
once were,
let rain
showers,
deter
love’s
powers -
walking,
beats,
heart’s
repeats -
past
flings,
never seem,
bright
as
first escape -
lets groove,
move,
show our power:
moment’s
turned hours,
eyes connect,
turned journey’s
futures -
without
moving our
selves,
lets escape
the past,
once more,
before
all rush,
takes over:
lost in the crowds,
soon
we’ll see -
everyone’s free,
but following,
the roads
before,
swimming
shores,
of world’s
most -
lost,
like before:
rushhour -
mind’s worst -
heart’s
best -
if only cars crept,
and eyes wept,
were no more.
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
commuting
thinking about
the electric current
sparking overhead
I push to get on
but the words
wait for the train
arriving
two minutes later
instead
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC