Best Rough Road Poems
love is like a freeway
the faster you go the less control you have on it
Form:
Our own rough road too Salzburg
Then, prematurely those familiar cliffs of your morning appear
strangely there is no sea in your blurred dawn viewpoint just
rolling waves, those same un-swimmable white horses just
rolling in your stomachs pit, galloping wildly, then crashing
your standing with a gut full of feel, that feel ! of weighted thrown
iron shoes surprisingly as your breath draws inward its obvious
creeping emptiness, dissolves any rational plan for your day.
In a small mouse sized space where live, your fags, crumpled bills,
small brown bottles of pills, tea bags, coffee pot and “stale photos”
And in the memories of those “stale photos” minutely blinks a spark
squeezed out of the creased years of folds, you add up, the gains, and loss, your head turns, away looks up right, as your balanced hand sweaty slips slowly down the paint needing door post, picks up a splinter prick, your pain ridden blood, trickles out, and into your tired eyes, that rough road too Salzburg morning rolls on in.
Coffee doesn’t cut it anymore, and Gin in the bin is much lighter
you feel like, your a voyeur inside, behind your own eye sockets
gazing out with change in mind, but sadly without the needed plan.
Spilt bouncing runaway coins, unassisted by notes, or cards trip over the mornings mountains of worries, their as big as the moon
that ache, straightening up, the cat eats, you don’t, no need to feed
while plump, well abused waist lines hanging on celebrities wealth
mouths as big as their bank balance, tell me too give ? What ! Up?
Each of us stands on our own rough road too Salzburg,
you cannot compare journeys, media moguls will judge you
each of us fall, on that rough road too Salzburg over and over
but that dirt on trousers and skirt, always breaks your fall.
J-ust
E-ndure
R-ough
R-oad
A-nd
R-ainy
D-ays
M-aking
A-nother
N-ight
Z-one
O-ff
Topic: Birthday of Jerrard Manzo (July 28)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
we cross the mountain
moving to love fountain
its our gold
so we can't fold
its for freedom for all
we must not fall
its been a heavy load
ahead is
STILL A ROUGH
ROAD
C-oal clouds become white,
E-arly eighth February;
L-et Wednesday morning break,
E-ndorsing glowing glory.
S-hadows are left behind,
T-uesday twilight is gone;
E-vening haze has yielded to the light of dawn.
F-ill your heart with warmth,
E-liminating the cold chill;
D-elight is truly brought,
E-levating the thrill.
R-emain firm and steadfast,
E-ven if heavy is the load;
S-tand up and brave the horizon, midst bleak and rough road.