Best Guardrails Poems
There’s no decorum or respect
Within the White House walls
And cameras let us witness
Some behavior that appalls.
Invite a foreign dignitary
Then berate, insult, accuse –
That’s the playbook for a bully
Desperate to be in the news.
Why would any other country,
After seeing that display,
Send a leader, knowing he or she’d
Be treated in that way?
Every day brings more examples
Of outrageousness and shock
Which, at one time, simply seemed like
Acts of bluster we would mock.
But the stakes have gotten higher
And if all the guardrails fail,
Someday writing such a poem just might
Have me end up in jail.
And so it goes. Seated, contemplative. A sudden cacophony abiding. Many floods ebb then flow; good/bad. Memories distilled, truth distorts. Folly found fair ‘gainst fear flames fanned. Shame ignorance opened, book bound veracity logged. Guardrails bent, bowed, betray. Step, then step again, mindlessly tumbling ‘cross lifescape willy, tilting nilly. Ramble shambles consequences unvetted. Year strategy unfolds unscripted. And then once more. The chronological avalanche swift recall swipes quickly to next. Where I have been, never again, yet reminiscent, always. Trails erased and failed anew. Aging days no longer brighter, burning coals dim to ash till heat demise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
erosion attitude
season’s grind edges away
saves stack each upon each
In the dead of night
the quiet overwhelms
a candle works its magic
her zig-zag flame enigmatic
In the still of the night
a rustle of leaves
scares night-owls 'most to death
uneven, their breath
In the midnight hours
senses hone their powers
feasting on infinitesimal change
defying limits of mankind's range
In the wee hours of the morn
hopes yearn for dawn
only to be dashed against
guardrails of nighttime's marathon
I try to establish strong mental footholds
In resemblance to fort knox physical strongholds
Through repentance I lost the spiritual blindfold
So every sentence I mock material billfolds
I seek an understanding of answers beyond the proven
Discreet but demanding how choices response woven
Steep iceberg floating trying to go past frozen
Deep dreamer mind roaming wake to visions unspoken
I walk a new direction to relieve my transgressions
I look toward heaven to receive a better connection
My poetic expressions are close to schools lessons
Not prophetic but blessings do follow these sessions
I choose my own path and I fold up my coattails
So whether tears or laugh others stand behind guardrails
If life is simple math I want some calculus from Yale
No test I cannot pass its like the answers are wholesale
THE MOST DANGEROUS ROADS
i've got the head of a rattle snake
on the front end of my hood
i've got a chilled clorox drink
in my steel-knuckled hand
and we're rolling down I-10
across the stretch between Phoenix
to the Cali border and 85 deaths
a single year makes me quiver
shifting the stick to overdrive
Smiling as I rumble over America's
most dangerous road
kissing the guardrails
flirting with the slops
to side ditches so steep
but not as fun as I-15
from LA to Las Vegas I say
it's all the way or no
it's all the way or no
it's all the way or no
it's me spreading my ashes
across the country I love
it's me treading the coals
with a swizzle stick in my nose
yeah here we go
:: 03.05.2016 ::
Object to crave
hands off me
i find myself
looking at the keys in the stars in my space
warlords of times of slavery
tortured innocents
never ending labour for underpaid children
smelling burnt flesh
because someone taught her how to swim
he came
we forgot
we are not fooled again
early bird gets the worm
7am red balloons on free sucker day
not my fault you slept through ypur own surprise holiday
from the outside in
the mess and the twins
wasnt me it was him
then it was us it was them
then look what they did to eachother
sinnersd and saints
same blame game parade
hands clean holding a spade
burrying the evidence
and were all on the train
ladies and gentleman theres a cow on the tracks
there is going to be a slight delay
the trains got guardrails now
soo everybody drink
christmas is saved
but the cows name is jesus
cant stop the train
so im gettin drunk
looks better on paper
thank goodness for the words of the wise
the only truth i can hold onto
is this world hasn't admitted to one of its mistakes
or the fact its addicted to its own dose of lies
and before i teach you how to prepare for your last supper of judgement day
heres the perfect lie
to cheat your way through the exams of the after life
artsy fartsy smarty pants party
buying and trading stocks of barbies
free trade economy
feeding the starving
pictures inspired for mouth to mouth
and split second life saving situational ironies
I'll pay for you eat
eat together all for one day
it might take three days to get the feast going
and when its set up
send mwe the bill
and then blam partys over
god is retiring
and just as predicted
freed the slaves from the wars
to free the burning victoms
of those being tortured
and now no one knows
just wars iof our fathers
wars of our fathers
alice whos is alice?
what was wonderland really about?
wasnt me
it was you
it was us
it was them
on and on
blame game campaign
seperating boys from the men
the shipmate made capttain
mutinised the island
sold the ship and robbed the bank
so now whose laughing
Dry eyes open at counter gambling a quarter at a time, looking up to see beauty out of corner smiling. She says hi, iced up stunned could fathom flight. Sigh slightly, love little known ‘bout her yet inquire as intriguing be. Just nearby cause heartbeat skip three steps, lightheaded. Dream pleasant, perhaps but such, inch forward though slow. Direction key.
~~~~~~~~
Consciousness is relative. What is wake and not irrelevant as mere gravel in crowned game tossed under bus rapidly to slow procession, carriage tips, queen collapses. Another wretched grasp on situation uncomfortable, scribble endlessly to soothe witness tragedy that is existence.
~~~~~~
Fortified in villainous parody drought sought touch send shiver nail through skin. Perched tremblin’ yet gather oxygen balance news prior thought white-dressed canopy temptress. Hold drink, allow consume dreamt of while driving slid far beyond guardrails. Her disturb each moment welcome such distraction, will cease casually. Unsure, still peace though as whisper ease hesitation, destination unknown, comforting assumption.
Just as the word applies to a wide variety,
It extends to a great many portions of our life.
With meanings that derive from its context,
Along with numerous chances to fall off, just ask a wife.
As it seeks to be centered against edges,
Those borders tend to define us in excess.
Not just to zero, but even beyond to the negative,
So they may counter all the positive success.
So while the fulcrum may get all the business,
The direction seeks to clarify and measure.
Since equilibrium demands all the values
Of human experience, between pain and pleasure.
The guardrails in place are moved often,
As if shifting sands form the foundations base.
So what may tip to a side one week, may
Slide over to the other, without a trace.
When we look at all the scales we follow,
With efforts to stay centered or mainstream.
We might recall that risk is ever present,
And needs to be managed to avoid the extreme.
The Seine river banks,
with their lack of guardrails, freaked
me out in fourth grade:
"Avez-vous entendu?!!"
My best friend rushed to ask it.
"Did you hear?! (the news)"
A woman drowned!!
She gushed - the horror tale
punch line delivered.
My eyes were wide with
shock and fear - the monster takes
another victim.
The dark Seine river
slithered, like a green snake
- feet from my front door.
There was no railing
- a misstep would drop you some
12 feet, to your cold death.
No parent could save
you - a terrifying thought for
a nine year old girl.
Walking to school, my
brother would sneak up, nudging
me near left-bank death.
I would scream, amid
cat calls and boyish laughter,
despite our au pair.
My best friend, Chloe, shared
my caution, if not my fear,
and loved to tease me.
That rapid river
loomed large in my dreams - as fears
can - for many years.
Last year we were in
Paris and I still couldn't go
near the riverbank =]
First they said that our laws were sufficient
and the guardrails enough of a force
that the Courts and their Orders would stop him
keep the country and people on course
But the Justice Department had failed us
sadly frozen in fear and disgrace
and the SCOTUS is soaked in corruption
selling votes, taking trips, filling space
We’re the saviors who we have been seeking
we’re the heroes who we so adore
for when words upon paper lose meaning
it is up to the People to roar
Rancho la Joya stretches out for miles
the horses are gone--but not the corrals
with a black dog named Boo, who watches it all
from late in the evening to every breaking dawn
one silver horse is all that remains
you turn the key and the thrill is the same
all leathered up in our jackets and chaps
sheltered from the cold, we ride without maps
into the mountains on trails that you know
your hands on grips and warmed by your gloves
my arms around you--holding on tight
the sun sinks slowly now, moon and stars guide
peaceful and beautiful alone on this trail
this scenic path without any guardrails
onward and upward, smooth is our ride
I will go anywhere with you by my side
the sun exposed
above mountain's edge
through the folds
of dawn's rise
carmine sky erupts
mimicking fire
that burns beneath
in the crisp morning
the earth gasps in breaths
of pallid air
as it rises from the cracks
of asphalt and dirt
the smell of sulfur lingers
the narrow streets are unkept
a few stone walls remain
at the edges of driveways
where houses once stood
the cemetery sits on the hill
behind a weathered fence
yet the grounds are well maintained
if you walk passed the edge of its lot
a mound of dirt well traveled
hides an abandoned highway
about a mile long stretch
still divided, guardrails intact
the danger, no trespassing signs
won't keep the people out
the colors allure
fascinating you
with the graffiti
that covers every inch
while hundreds more
walk daily
down that forbidden path
looking for a place
between the buckles and folds
to have their story told
on the highway of fame
(centralia is a place in pennsylvania where a coal mind started to burn under the earth...people were forced to sell their houses to the state and the few that stayed are allowed to remain but cannot sell or will their houses to anyone, upon their death they state will get the houses! it still burns but less fierce then it once did. they have removed the signs from the highway but once you get close it's easy to get gps to lead you there and when you see people and vehicles line the road by the cemetery, there is the highway, partially hidden by a mount of dirt that was supposed to keep trespassers out~)
Trying to ride the sunshine
as it bends a winding road
at the end i'm hoping to find
a pathway paved with gold
where the truth is all but too kind
.......the only version told,
God's healin to my souls mind
as I return to heavens fold.....
I know that i'm a dreamer,only
looking for a peaceful way out
I know it's not that easy.....
.......this i'm finding out
My guardrails slightly weakened
my minds reelin from the abuse
but,i'm still here believin,
God's grace will touch the bruise
this world can be hard hittin
as I swerve avoiding ruse
God's loving strength form fittin
riding forward toward the truth
I know that i'm a dreamer,only
looking for a peaceful way out
I know it's not that easy....
.......this i'm finding out
I'm not sleeping while i'm driving
I'm not keeping still....i'm trying....
it hasn't been that easy....only,
looking for a peaceful way out......
A patch of dried grass at the side of the road
Rusty guardrails crumbling erosion
A patch of berries a diet for deer
Thankful dinner for their born for a year
Leaves now yellow some orange, many dead
Dried veins crumble prepare soil for life
A pothole or two missed by the power
Shall fill with ice and erode what’s blue
Into the future all again will be new
Berries will fall and rot be gone
Stripped to the bone nothing further to give
A repetitive calendar turns pages as we live
All shall go than arrive once again
Death and birth explains this Earth
A Priceless death is what we’re worth
over the Hudson River, its heights
my nemesis. I longed to drive
and stay alive. Highland
on the other side. Mid-Hudson
thrill ride for a permitted driver.
my heart would pound
just looking at the gothic steel
and the watergrave - my haunt.
a teenager’s imagination swims
in an encounter with the dead.
i had a friend whose dad dizzily
fell into the dangerous depths.
trepidation removes its guardrails,
tires sliding into the Poughkeepsie abyss.
bridging the gap - my courage.
i live to tell the tale…palpitations stalled.
8/19/2021