Best Dead End Street Poems
Walking in circles
Of depression
Silence the ever present killer
On the cul du sac
Of life
Inspired by the Rat Pack
There are many kinds of writes,
some write wonderful songs.
Their words will make you sing along,
the music will keep running through your head.
Some write poems,
they can make them rhyme.
A poem could tell a happy or sad story,
or make you laugh out loud.
Some write books,
it could be about a dead end street.
The characters find the road has ended,
what a great place to park.
Park under the silver moon,
and count the shining stars.
Once, when I was young – another writer,
A poet and poetry lover, someone undiscovered…
She (it could have been he since I only knew
Pen names that faded from my memory once
The words had left their imagery)…
Anyway, she or he… told me that my poetry,
Yes, MY POETRY, the words that I wrote,
The little flawed victims of my heart, my soul,
Thoughts that were sometimes fleeting –
And, other times, like some leech settling in
Around my life, overwhelmed by the letters,
The rhymes, the rhythms that felt like liquid laughter,
Kissing away the shadows that clung to my mind –
She or he – told me that my poetry reminded them
Of Plath! The one and only… Sylvia Plath..
It felt like a death sentence in a way, but I learned to listen
To the memory like it was one heartbeat away from
Losing its hold on me, the memory has no real power –
It loses its ability to tempt and torture, its gift for doubt
Its capacity and urgency, blaming the winds of autumn,
The sing song sounds of spring, the melancholic mist of winter,
The ache of summer plays in trembling octaves of verse –
While I remember…
Her suicide and then, years past that poet’s pointed clue
Finding out I was bipolar and knowing what it is…
Feeling crazy, like a druggie or – the woodpecker must…
Feel the crazy that comes from thumping away at that oak,
Striking it again and again with a beak that couldn’t have been
Made by man.
Only God could have created the woodpecker and only God
Could have silenced the fear in my heart when I thought of…
The mania that shredded my hopes and plunged me into doubt,
And, only God could have been such a dependable friend
That I never felt the need to take the life that He gave to me,
The same life He saved when He forgave me for my sins.
Not so much like Plath, you see… not so much like Plath,
Who will always be a lesson to poets who believe…
Only God has the right to whisper farewell to the light,
The light He stirred inside when He promised you this time,
These precious moments, this life – blessed by grace,
Inspired by faith and brought to glory by the love that He gave.
DEAD END STREET --WHY do dead end roads Exist
"Are you my enemy, if you’re not my friend?
Alternative exit without exit should be posted dead end
When “Google” tells you turn right at the bend
Daylight night time Run Johnny Run gets dark at ten
~
Its GPS systems “Google” shows and tells you the road there
Maybe curb site lodging house in front of thee
As connecting when they actually do not trail, where?
I fell off the rugged deep end plummeting free
~
Keeping wheels on the road round, round you go
Rounded end to facilitated to slow, flow on cul-de-sacs
I driving off the freeway, spinning my way to and fo
Up down alleys down yield, slow, stop, dead end signs surface
~
Disconnected streets filled with trash cans, homeless and police
Crimes and gangs’ darkness rends why do dead end roads exist?
Limit through-traffic in residential areas.
Conjure up visions of quiet suburban bliss,
Curb line barrier curbs sidewalks houses meet barriers
Far removed from dangers and noisy high-speed traffic
~
One with low wages and no hope of promotion
No speeders, skate boarder, permitted on the shoulders
Cul-de-sac deadlock stalemate blank wall blind alley
Catch me if you can you can’t I am running blindly
~
Short street with a bulbous end, or even to the end just a portion
Why do neighborhoods have dead ends?
A long road that is a no-through road and terminates abruptly
All those speed bumps, curbs, Cul-de-sac deadlocks not our friends
~
Dead ends are added to road layouts in urban planning
To limit through-traffic in residential areas no one carrying
Is the dead end a road or street, an alley or sidewalk meet
No through road or no exit road,
Is a street with only one inlet or outlet?
When you come upon a dead end"
11/13/23
DEAD END STREET Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
pist'n broke
male libido has vanished
an anti climax
Dead End Street
He is waiting in the dark
In the smoky dark under the railway sidings.
He is nervous in the black
In the black of the black slag piles.
He lights a cigarette and breathes out
His breathing rapid and expectant.
The victim is on his way
On his way to redemption
Victim of stupidity and slur.
There will be no escape
Once bludgeoned and dragged
There is nowhere to go.
The noise of human life begins
Human life that calls time on the light
And the insolent one
Will die tonight.
we could
pound our perspectives
as flat as a pancake
and force-feed each other with them.
we could debate
until two plus two is five
and still arrive at
an impregnable impasse;
a dead-end street.
you seem to be as stubborn as I am.
my mind -
and yours -
clearly will not change.
so why don't we agree to disagree?
you see, I'm simply sick of shouting,
tired of talking.
Admit you lost track
under a blue fever moon
Buckle your seat belt
The hysterical,
the shrinking curse
Chew dog food, gum
it sure smells delicious
Constant tinnitus
Burn aromatic herbs
Dangerous situations
with sparks from the mains
A threat to the electricity pylons
they are blacked out
The street was familiar
as one's own pocket
Mysterious disappearances
Even not Stephen King
understood what had happened
I got off the bus after a hard day at work
A storm had knocked out every street light
In the gloom of despair, I saw a shadow lurk
My fear of darkness reached a new height
Two blocks to walk until I'd reach my home
but oh, how my fright was filling me with dread
I suffered from an illness called, Stygian Syndrome
Fear that on a dark night I would end up dead
There's never been an algorithm that's predicted
when I'd be exposed to a scary night such as this
I swore a maledict while my heart was conflicted
wondering why I didn't run. Something was amiss
It seemed as if an evil force was holding me back
from taking a step in the direction I needed to go
I couldn't see or hear anything in a world of black
but sensed something wicked hovered near... a foe
My house was the last one on the dead-end street
Should I try to get there without making a sound,
or should I go the other way? I wanted to retreat
but didn't move before I was knocked to the ground
I fought off a hundred creatures who bit my flesh
Every inch of my body was torn, and I smelled blood
I wished I had the courage and power of Gilgamesh!
But if compared to that hero, I'd label myself a dud
I wiggled my fingers and toes... counted ten and ten
Afraid to move again, I doubled up in a fetal position
Streetlights flickered; I saw I was surrounded by men
When someone yelled, "CUT!" I had a sneaky suspicion
A horror movie being filmed, but how was I to know
that everything was staged on my dead-end street?
I was paid for my realistic acting and used the dough
for a shrink and a weekend at a sanity recovery retreat
Down the desolation of a dead-end street,
Lost love's whisper, a heartbeat's retreat.
Echoes of laughter, now silenced and cold,
The tale of a journey, a story untold.
Gone are the riches, the glittering gold,
Faded dreams in a tale that unfolds.
Job's embrace, a fleeting affair,
Friends once near, now distant air.
In shadows of despair, I tread the way,
Searching for light in the muted gray.
The weight of loss, a burden to bear,
On this lonely path of deep despair.
But in the darkness, a flicker appears,
A distant light, through my silent tears.
A glimmer of hope on this desolate track,
A chance to rebuild what despair did lack.
At the dead-end street or cul-de-sac stands a tall silver lamp pole,
And a portable basketball hoop. I wish I could say there lives not a single soul.
What if the lamp pole sat on a game board on City property?
As fast as this little town is growing, we could play a game of monopoly.
A railroad track there was once, now a highway, and businesses
within a four-block radius causing dizziness.
Traffic so fast, there are a lot of accidents. If you cross the line,
watch where you turn, it’s your fault if you have the stop sign.
Ambulance wails and police sirens sound that drown
Your thoughts, almost all day long around town.
If you stand by the lamp pole, you’ll see them, go by.
You look up at the sky and pray; please don’t let them die.
I am only three houses down from that lamp pole
and highway when I take my dog out for a stroll.
11/9/2023
For a new job one day, I drove fast.
I was late and the city was vast.
With no GPS,
I just had to guess
how to get there as minutes flew past.
Some shortcuts I tried. Time so fleet
I swore wouldn’t see me be beat.
Aha, it is here
I cried with great cheer,
till I saw it was a dead-end street.
A U-turn I made right away.
Still lost, I was filled with dismay.
My new job I lost,
but worse was the cost
of the gas I used that one day.
A dead end street like road to hell
A burning bright flame, you can tell
A deep pitfall with no way out
It takes your soul without a doubt
A sharp sickle of death awaits
To put some dead souls in the crates
Towards the way to endless pit
Without a vent, even a bit
The grim reaper waits with his scythe
And in his eyes, there is a blithe
For, there's one more soul, he will take
Or his glory will be at stake
And just before the barb-blocked end
You can do nothing but to bend
That miracle will pave the way
For you to pass the tragic slay
Only the two big houses were in the broad Street, My mansion was at the dead end street meet , It was covered with green creepers like sheet, My open heart seemed eeto miss an easy beat,
In the street meet, there was a child's tomb,
No one went near it in the dark night, Every one passed the end of the street with zoom, They crossed it very speed with flash light,
The abode was large and had three courtyards Wooden pillars were looked like huge guards, It's high and dark shadows made me scared, Avoiding fear, I prayed to the family God,
Nearly forty persons were died in the home,
For me, it resembled a fearful tomb, Like the memorable mummies found in Rome, I felt like an icy cube in the white foam,
I ran on the varanda as fast as I could, Grandma had come with a lantern and I misunderstood, I dashed her speedy, but she withstood,
I told my bitter experience to the neighborhood.
On a dead end street, I parked my feet
Predetermined by me, myself, and eye.
Laughing at my silliness. Running in the same circle.
A loop that others called out.
I ignored them.
He’s gone they said. Kaput. It was more than a hint.
But there was no note.
Don’t leavers write one?
I thought I knew him.
But he had blocked me.
From his phone and from his mother’s house.
She would not even come to the door
And I sat in her driveway for six hours.
A stalker?
Maybe.
Actually I just want to know.
Is it over?
I am still out here, punching buttons.
On a dead end street. where I have parked my feet.