Best Track Poems
cheese lies on the floor
mouse makes his way to the cheese
cat runs for the mouse
“Monopoly - Fast Track Equations”
Razor sharp cut quite clear
He says Trust
She says Fear
Broken glass and hidden things
He says Respect
She says Trust
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
Black Lies and Alibis
He says Truth
She says Respect
Innocence is shattered
All the children wept
Steel Cages, Monopoly and Chance Cards
He says Love
She says Lost
Flying Monkeys and Kangaroo Courts
He says Lost
You say, "Here’s the Road Map, I've got the Get Out Free Card"
You get behind the wheel
Take back your soul
Foot to the floor
Keep driving fast, not slow
Pass “GO”, Do not Look Back.
Girlfriend, little sis'ta, you are right on track.
(Lovejoy-Burton/March 2018)
1.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S71_vIMQ0YY
You played your pipe for me to dance,
as puppet master, worked the strings,
but today my heart will pirouette;
I am giving back the gold nose ring.
Last night I saw just how it is
Between yourself and naive me;
you are the wolf, I am the lamb
always destroyed in repartee.
You think I cannot live alone
without your condescending reign;
you won't hear Arrivederci play,
I won't come back to Rome again.
This love train has left the station;
It is speeding down "don't look back track."
Goodbye to disappointing love;
I'm moving on to be exact.
Copyright, September 6, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
A déjà vu? What can I say?
I know the track so well.
It is so dark yet treacherous.
I am not afraid. Careful, here is a curve,
it almost turns onto itself.
An old oak tree stands there,
just off the corner. I can smell
its delicious odour or feel
its sturdy trunk, its cracked bark.
I hear the lower heavy branches
swinging slowly in the breeze.
Watch out, there's a ditch there,
dank water, that smells like drains.
And just before it a small jutting rock
that can easily help you tumble
into the murky stinking place.
Walk on, do not mind the dark
nor the screech of the nightly owl,
just mind where you step
for the ground is quite treacherous here.
It's not far now. Hear the dog
on guard, barking its warning.
Not to worry, it knows me all too well
although I cannot see it.
How can I? I'm blind.
Rushing to the third class
When I was a young student
Undertaking train journeys
Often looking for a window seat.
Amid the track's rhythm
Full of hope for the future
I saw countryside and cities
Leaving behind from the coach window.
The hawkers' calls echoed
Inside the compartment,
A counter point to the beggars' songs,
Their handicap a stark plea.
A clatter of the wheels,
Accompanied the train as it ran,
A sweet soundtrack while running
Through the fields and towns.
Years have passed today
I am a retired person .
Sometimes boarding
A second class compartment,
The third class is gone.
The clatters,horns,whistles,
Hawkers' voices,the beggars' songs-
Even today have not changed.
So I am and my pocket became thin
like when I was a student .
The wind rose early with the busying dawn;
And, rushing into the long avenue of beech -
Laid down years ago to accommodate labouring feet -
Began to scatter over neatly cut verge and lawns
With its own inimitable unruly gust, blow and fuss...
Within a cascading maelstrom of vivid bright yellowness.
Against strong trunks, held firm by steadfast roots,
Groans from creaking boughs as they upwardly heaved
Upon frantically thrashing branches showering
rusted, golden leaves;
Carpeting the rough stones below my trampling boots.
A mad kaleidoscope of leaping, swirling, skipping
colour
Where, as a child, I had once rediscovered...
Two green sandstone gate pillars sat well back
That ushered me under this arched, canopied track.
Near my house in the back,
bit lost on a sidetrack,
along the grassy track.
Turned a bit to backtrack,
closer is the right tack,
near my house in the back.
Yet things went out of whack,
more lost was a setback,
along the grassy track.
I put on a soundtrack,
and I thought to kickback,
near my house in the back.
Thought of how'd I attack
then there was a throwback,
along the grassy track.
A song that I playback,
"Get right back" ... [Bleep] (wisecrack)
near my house in the back,
along the grassy track.
I was going to add a long remix track to a playlist,
A playlist called ‘Waitin For the Bus in the Dark’,
But waitin for the bus in the dark is as tedious as it is -
Making a remix tedious alongside it wouldn’t make sense.
The remix is exciting now -
Anticipating excitement knocking on my eardrums as I wonder how the tune will change.
But next time,
If I play it too soon,
I’ll know.
I’ll just know.
Knowing keeps listening from being curious,
And makes it here we go again.
But “here we go again” are lyrics in an excellent song -
1973 by James Blunt.
Maybe I could add that with the remix to the playlist
And never know which will play first.
Maybe I could add so many songs
That twill be one unmemorable remix
That won’t all play in the time I’m waiting for the bus,
One unmemorable remix that Spotify can shuffle out of order.
The bus I’m waiting for now is too long away
To make it to my trans support group before it ends,
So I’ll make my way home
And bump into an old friend
Who must have started to find me tedious
Or forgotten about me,
Like a song on shuffle that barely plays,
Forgotten how good it is.
My life is full of ups and downs
Some much more fun than others
But I’d say the ones I like the most
Happen underneath the covers
I like looking sharp
My pants ironed with pleats
But in birthday suits I prefer to be
Entangled beneath the sheets
I get exercise in the gym
And run around the track
But the best physical activity of all
Has me lying on my back
Now you may say, I’ve a one track mind
And my libido is out of control
But I have experienced a lot in life
And what I like is what I know
A storm is brewing, slow, but strong
and those who do so many wrong
shall pay their price - and when the gong
does sound, they all shall fade.
And we shall axe, it shan't be long,
The palace's charade.*
On pompous thrones adorned with gold
they sit, so wrongly smug and bold.
They know no word for kind - So cold
and merciless their speech.
But soon their might as we foretold
cannot our purpose reach.
A storm is brewing, slow but sure -
Its last defeat shall be our cure.
Our tyrant's ways shall not recur -
our bolt will find its mark.
Their royal fate they shall incur...
we'll watch the skies turn dark.
--------------------------------------------------------
From the POV of an oppressed citizen before the French Revolution
- Title from The Tale of Two Cities.
* 'Charade' here (American) rhymes with fade.
Burns Stanza variation
My feet,
got a rhythm
A nervous beat
Oh the meet
Should I eat more meat?
Nah focus more on wheat
Better calm down and take a seat.
World coming at you like a big huge fleet
They try and feed you but you don't wanna eat
I don't like the taste of there beets
I'd rather give myself some tasty treats
Oh wall street
I ain't gonna eat
Get off my bicycle seat
Filthy ol' wall street smelling like your grandma's toilet seat
gonna throw you in some disgusting embassy suite
I used to have a fear of hurdles, but I got over it.
-Jomarc Bernardo
Asp!
I can see
I am not
going to be
on time?
That's a fact!
I am late,
and must wait,
while a gate
holds me back
from the tracks!
What a pain
is the train
dashing by!..
Rolling on at a pace
of a snail in a race
I am bracing to stifle a yawn
All that freight, makes a pass
while my eyes try to grasp
graffiti that is now flashing by..
On the side of each car
is a scar that was splashed
by a guy with a message to send..
It departs
'round the bend
So the gallery ends..
Farewell to the art
from a friend...
I am late...
but the wait
was a blast!
_______________________________________________________
She left her heart there, on the tracks,
walked away, without a backwards glance.
If love were true, then it'd come back.
She left her heart there, on the tracks.
Tied with ribbon of pale lilac,
her letter of love, left to chance.
She left her heart there, on the tracks.
Walked away, without a backwards glance.
Paula Swanson
8/8/2011
For the contest, In The Afterglow
Sponsored by Nette Onclaud
Placement: 6th
Your life is a long race,
Racing over the bumps.
Traveling the unforeseen,
Don’t fear to hit the jumps.
Down the winding path,
There’s plenty of ups and downs.
Place your focus up ahead,
For the glorious end you’re bound.
Doing what you love to do,
Will eventually make history.
See you at the finish line,
As you race the track to victory.
At the Track
At the starting line
Engines revving vroom, vroom, vroom
Burning rubber - GO
Flags are waving zoom, zoom, zoom
Better stop now for new tires