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writerReader Feb 2015
What would
happen
if the
street lights were too
kind to
say
no?
Francie Lynch Jan 2019
We used to hear it all the time:
Can you come outside and play?

We heard that chant throughout the hood,
From screened back doors where our friends stood.
Calling just when time was right,
For Hide and Seek at the dawning night,
Or Hopscotch, Double Dutch
Kick the Can,
On neighbour's lawns and sidewalks,
On streets, driveways or city parks.

My daughter got a text today:
Can you come to my house and play?
We had eyes like cats back then.
Nik May 2018
there’s something so trustworthy about the night
i trust her with all my secrets
she holds them for me in the gas filled particles beaming back at me
she loves me so much on occasion she’ll hide them from me
my own secrets
when she knows they’re becoming too much to bear
i don’t know if i trust anyone more than i trust her
she’s the only consistency i have
i wonder if it’s because she knows
There's streetlight outside
burning in the blue-black sky,
Standing on the pavement
with friends by its side,
They'll sway in the wind till morning
then flicker and die.
Only by the night
does a spark ignite,
Illuminating suburbia
in perfect half-light.

"In this silence I believe".

The streetlights are lonely
as they sway in the wind.
Their job is to **** the darkness,
Yet dawn signals their end.

Teenagers climbing streetlights
cause they like to get high,
Hanging from lamp posts
just to feel alive.
Ascend the mast,
Attain a heading,
Set sail and let adventure come running.

In the hazy orange glow of la madrugada
some things will appear clearer than others.

For where the mind may be lost
what might stand to be found?
Quote:
-Line Eleven from Silence by Mt. Eden Dubstep
Note:
-"Madrugada" is the Spanish word for "early hours of the morning" (the period of time between midnight and before sunrise).
Anastasia Jun 2019
I remember last night
With a sunset sky
Pink
Lilac
Baby blues and glimmering golds
I wanted to see you today
But I couldn't
Not really
I remember last night
When we talked until the streetlights turned on
When I put little white daisies in your hair
And you smiled for me
I wanted to do that tonight
But I couldn't
Sadly
I remember last night
When we sat by the creek
And caught fireflies
Flickering in the dimming light
Like little neon stars
I wanted to do that tonight
But I couldn't
And it hurt
I just wish I could feel okay, right next to you
We watched the world end.

Lying there on the floor of the highest-level with her,
Basking in the surrealism of that night.
The open-topped roof of a multistory car-park awash
with wayward radiance from orange streetlights;
Their fading glare trapped by the city's cloud-cover,
The soft glow dimly illuminated our bodies.
Precipitation gracefully descending
in a fine drizzle, seemingly endless;
The falling mist causing an apparent bloom
as sodium-vapor lamplight spread through and through.
This strange photon blossom,
Intangible and awesome.

My mind intoned one silent word:
Renew.

We saw urban torches expel their artificial light
and give way to the skyglow of streetlamps in bloom.
We lay back and watched the city breathe
as the floating masses of water swooned.
And I felt the sky collapse around us
as surreality became our coupled theme.
Romantic ******'s American dream.
Breaching surreality.
Hadiy Syakir Sep 2018
no one is subscribing
to the universal affection
draining subconscious ailment
that needs no treatment
quaking with fear
shaking with revulsion
looking to prolong
an hour, a minute
stretching one seconds
into ten seconds
where are we going,
past the streetlights
the crossroads
the commotion
inside the canal boat
that surrounds and accompanies
this road -
will it ends one day,
sometimes, somewhere
and brings an end
to the entire's generation
guilt and disease?
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
A tightness in my lungs pulls me under in a spell of forced muteness.
I slide my view up out of the rattling car.
The starry sky lighting up my irises and dazzling my brain.
Meanwhile the glops of tears forming in my eye drag the streetlights across my visible world.
Light torn away from its source
for only me.
Me, a crying passenger.
Antino Art Apr 2018
We wear this city on our feet
Planting our roots with each step
Our shadows

cast shapes of ancient oak trees stretching out over Nash Square at daybreak
We grow here

with the spirit of buildings past,
present and rising like a staircase to heaven in the distance,
the plumes of white smoke from their rooftops as burnt offerings for incense,
spires for steeples,
the bundled masses of people moving beneath as the calloused soles
of our feet pounding the pavement,
Our congregation

seated in reverant silence on the R-Line hissing to a stop
Their hushed prayers filing out from within to bring the reclaimed sidewalks of Fayetville Street back to life to join this pilgramage
They march

downtown toward Capitol
holding signs for disarmament
They bar-hop through Glenwood toasting to deliverance
They sprint toward their cars on work week mornings in a blur of faces that become us,
Rush at all hours through our veins
Cross our hearts and keep us breathing
On the shoulders of this giant collective, we hold our heads high

to see that this is home now.
We cross into the unfamiliar
at the walk signal's cue,
breaking new ground, gazes meeting one another
as their counter-culture
coffee kicks in
to add this defiant bounce to each step
this rhythm to hop over puddles as they appear

We don't mind the way rain lands here
and its baptismal effect
We like how its capable of reinventing itself mid-fall into weightless snowflakes, then taking flight
We walk without umbrellas to see it

wearing the greyest pieces of their winter sky the way it caps the peaks of Mount PNC, BB&T and Wells Fargo like hoodies over our heads
We assume monk-like appearances
in robes color-coded by season- from blue collar sweaters to cold hard sweat
We'll wear their city until we're worn out and wet, mumbling last-mimute prayers for our salvation under our breath
We'll wear their dreams

at night, the moment the streetlights flicker on beneath wired telephone poles carrying conversations about each one as far south as Florida, fears unspoken, made visible
on iron park benches too cold to sit on at this hour
We'll keep walking

and wear this city like backpacks over our shoulders

under the shadow of their heavens,
the skyline
a glowing testament
of every step taken
toward someplace higher.
elaine Jul 2018
I.
brown eyes and soft lips; hushed words on cold nights, marijuana filled lungs, constant affection with loving arms always wrapped around my waist.
angst feelings overtake the love that had once moved into the heart of a broken soul, eyes seeking lust in another, loving the next who came by.

II.
pale skin with a caring smile, friendly eyes, living in the greater good, Marlboro pressed against her lips as the painful words begin to tug down her smile.
waves crashing against the rocky shoreline of her mind, fighting about whatever there is to, coming clean with the hurt that has overcome her soul. promising a better life calms the storm raging inside her hazel eyes.

III.
deep blue oceans trapped into the soft craters in her mind. dreadful for the loss of love that slowly destroyed her young mind. skipping school and upset parents.
restless nights, dark circles hiding under the spark in her beautiful eyes that once held her lovers captive. medication slowly slides down her throat as she is accompanied by pills and whiskey, slowly fading away from this pathetic world.

IV.
Smoke fills the midnight air as her petit face quietly enters the crisp cool night, daydreams filling her thoughts that pull her away into a better life.
heartbreak and ***** filled every friday night aching to be released into the adult world, free from all restrictions.

VI.
skin like hot chocolate that melted the cold inside others. laughter filling the room as we stepped in just me and you, never thinking of what was to become.
Hidden secrets became reviled as we said our goodbyes. silence washed over us and soon i took my last glance at the passing girl who once knew me. streetlights dimmed, showing teardrops dripping down as we thought about how it was.
Aaron Combs Jan 2019
The stars and all its powers,  are falling like the Himalayan roses,
For tonight the marble moon is on fire,
Just like the hazel flames in your eyes.

Soon, the Gemini shadows
     will soar over.

As the world falls apart
like a red dress,
tell me the time, the time you felt life,
that life was good.

For the dirt storms and shadows, spirits
will eventually bleed above the sunrise.
Inside this truck, let me hold your heart.
below the shadows, I'll be your armor.

Up and under the shirts, sleeves, of our feelings,
darkness doesn't feel so strange when I'm with you,
so hold and hang on the leg of my words,
as the streetlights spill into the skin and memories.

Oh, the shadows, the shadows, the shadows,
I can feel fear as much as I feel the fire
and the flames in your eyes,
and the red sky is falling like razor blades.

Now until we are clothed into one flame.
Tell me you belong to me,
There's just one more night,  
For the marble moon is on fire
and the stars are falling all around us.

Turn the radio on, the last song on high,
and let the flames of music blend
smoothly against the shadows light.
eva-mae Jul 2018
back and forth the
pendulum swings like those
playground kids
at midnight

me and him
dark moons and orangey
streetlights
his shirt

my frozen frame
he pushes me
and i swing
back and forth

like his drug habits
back and forth and i am thrown
into time
headfirst then backwards

and i see him, all of him
his childhood, his happiness
his trauma
all coming together to create

one chaotically beautiful human being

and as i swing i mention
my childhood, my happiness
my trauma
and he calls it fascinating

calls me a beautiful tragedy
and back and forth we swing.
i am so so so in love with you.
PC classic Oct 2017
the morning light tides in
through the window
and searches the house
for it's semblance
and gently dims back
into streetlights

I existed

like a stone
or the wall
or the clock hanging on the wall
moving with time
not lending much disturbance
to it

Some days are like
wrinkled metaphors
inside
a trash can
grace snoddy Feb 2018
i envy the cars that end up driving south.
the streetlights are tempting,
and blurred buildings tell me
“there’s other ways out”.
a handful of exit plans,
and empty destinations,
that i am reminded once again
in this world it is truly every man for themselves.
because if it were different
silence wouldn’t be my only company,
as i drive absentmindedly
hating every exit sign i see.

maybe the thought of having nowhere to go
is more humble
than the thought of having no one to give you a place to be.
Charlie Dog Jul 2018
Midnight excursion
Streetlights of gold
So many treasures
The darkness unfolds

Silver leaves illumed
By the moons ghoulish glow
How many secrets does
The darkness know

Diamonds that shimmer
In the vast blackened sky
What next to this in
The darkness am I?
Streetlights will lead you to the road of love
Where you would want to dawdle by the river in the company of your lover
You will have her picture in your head even when you haven't met her yet in life
You will look into the sky and admire the stars and say these words
"Had we met, we'd be the fragrant smell of the roses.
We would be the taste of wine
Be the rhythm of the classics, soothing and healing.
Be the beautiful smile on a bride's   face on the day she says I do
We would be  the tale of the fairies
Be the finest blossom of happiness
We would be the bread and butter to **** the hunger.
We would be the BEST COUPLE  that ever lived"
Love starts with imaginations before turning into reality .
Never stop the chase when the love comes
My art
is the way
I re-establish
the bonds that unite me
to the universe. -A.M.

Before she fell
They were
Hated
She, for her sudden rise
And he
in turn
for his shaggy, loping omnipotence
The sure-footed authority

She was the little Visionary
and he, the Blue Chip
So very messy
The Tall and The Small

If you were sitting at the bar
Somewhere around Mercer Street
And those two came in
“Ugh”
Went off inside all the heads
in their line of sight
A palpable mental groan
As they hung up their coats
And waved at various tables
Making their way like penguins

Again, it will all end badly, we thought
Nursing our drinks.
Tonight

Piling out of the last bar
brawling on slick cobblestones
under the yellowish streetlights
of Prince or West Broadway
Arguing about nothing and everything
“I will out run you Old Man!”
You could hear it bouncing off the sidewalk
Whispering around corners
“You will be surpassed!”
I too look to eternity,
he states full of drink and exasperation
I step and step again. I am walking there.
I am not a bird.
“You will be surpassed!”

Blood and more blood
A face planted with busted lips
Flattened
Your body crushed into the earth
Over and over
Having fallen
Waiting for burial, entombed in flora
Welcomed
Reclaimed
To be disappeared
But not just yet.

What had you unleashed Mija?
What did you already know?

I’ve got a devil inside of me! SHE GOT LOVE!
I’ve got a devil inside of me! SHE GOT LOVE!

In editorial spreads
we saw flared American jeans in Rome
You said that they understood you there
And in Cuba
We understood you very well right here,
you know.
It’s not so hard.

The doorman said he heard someone cry out
And then a soft thud a moment later
From the deli’s rooftop next door

“ICARUS DOWN” read The Post

How easily we lost our envy
after those 34 floors
Earthbound
Strait shot

It was all foretold in the telling
Now folded into a history of sorts
That of a primordial Fertility
And not a thousand chalklines drawn around a singular corpse
Nor unforeseen ramifications of deals
made in feathers
puddles and mud
The reunion of force fields
Folding you back within my arms
Where you belong
What an excellent day for an exorcism.

I’ve got a devil inside of me! SHE GOT LOVE!
J Jul 2016
Droplets pounding on the roof,
wind clawing at the trees,
the lightning lighting up the night,
will never end it seems.

Streetlights drowning in the water,
thunder tearing through the
sky, what a tragedy must happen,
to make the heavens cry.
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