Best Up The Road Poems


Premium Member Abigail's Spring - POTW

Abigail’s Spring  

Beneath the shelter of winter’s barren arbor
My winter abused heart
Watches the day’s light linger in the sky resisting darkness -
Begging to play a little longer every day –
Pushing twilight away at arm’s length with pink and brilliant orange
Leaving wispy trails of color in the sky;
Urging empty branches and shivering wheat
Lift up their eyes from bruising rains 
And crushing chill of wilderness storms;
Seeing here howling tirades of blizzards
Trade places with long sunbeams stretching slowly
Across my sun starved shadow, warming the winter’s wildness -
Coaxing pale green shoots to peek timidly at meadows
Covered with patchwork quilts of blue and yellow -
Orange scattered across arching hills –
Welcoming the face of spring with arms spread wide;
Listening for the bleating of black faced sheep 
When they shed their fleecy coats;
Not looking back into the breath of moaning winds,
Longing sighs transformed into shouts of laughter
Chase themselves across the plains in children’s games;
My spirit, once wrapped in hibernation, feels the changing of the wind
Running up the road – knocking on the gate -
With a moveable feast born of abundance; 
Stone cold frozen heart beats again in rhythm with gracious blessings
As the simple sparrow teaches 
Her young to fly with the morning light
Rejoicing on warm nights filled with songs of mourning doves –
My face turns - embracing this greening valley -
As spring sprints breathlessly up the path.

April, 2020
Contest: Personal Favorite No. 2
Sponsor: L. Milton Hankins

5/16/20
Contest: Poetry Marathon Mile 13
Sponsor: Mark Toney

30 Lines

First place - Brian Strand Your Choice B - 5/17/20
Number 1 Best New Poem - 6/13-20
Poem of the Week - 6/20/20
First place - Brian's Choice G 6-21-20 - Brian Strand
First place Your Best Poem of 2020 - John Hamilton
Top Ten, #10, Poet Destroyer 11/7/20
Chosen for publication in PS It's Poetry

Premium Member Friendship

Friendship
Up the road, from where we lived, two children came to stay
My parents knew their grandma well, they talked 'most every day
A happy boy, a little odd, but always was so kind
I never was ashamed to say, he was a friend of mine
His sister was my brother's age, the boy younger than me
Products of a broken home, back then a rarity
His drool was always running down, he couldn't make it stop
The other kids poked fun at him, they called him Slobber Slop
I never saw him fight no one, I never saw him cry
His sister did
My brother did
And sadly so did I
Two years went by, their dad came back, time for them to fly
His eyes teared at my house  that day, as he hugged us all goodbye
I lived my life, I took a wife, we bought a brand new home
Out of the blue, one day a knock, my how he had grown
Six foot three, two twenty five, a mountain of a man
His drool had stopped
His tears had not
He reached and took my hand
He'd never forgot the kindness shown
Though we were miles apart
The love we shared as boyhood friends
Still lived within our hearts.


                 Daniel Turner

Premium Member One Halloween

It wasn't the usual Halloween night
Of parties and goblins, of which there'd been many
It was a year of big changes, for our family had moved
At ten years old, I was still struggling and shy
And, in a brand new school, where no one gave me an eye
I'd been replanted and torn,, forlorn and alone 
Late in October...uprooted and lost

On Halloween night, it rained and it poured
It seemed the end of the world...I was unhappy and bored
Leaving what had been so familiar and sure
Where our old street had been filled, with a million new thrills
Now, here in the boondocks, ...no one came to the door

I was dressed to go out...but storms drenched the night
My mom understood....and tried to keep bright
She went up to her room, made up her face
She combed up her hair, until it stood on it's roots
Covered her face with black fireplace soot
She threw on her robe, and pulled on dad's boots
Crept out the back door, and to the front porch

When the doorbell rang....I jumped in delight!
Trick-or-treaters had come to our house this dark night!!
When I opened the door, at first I didn't see
It was mom, ...trying to hard, bring me some glee!
She grabbed me and laughed and pulled me to come
Out into the rainstorm....up the road we would run
We ran in the downpour, getting soaked to our skin
Laughing and yelling....such fun it had been!

Later that night, we warmed by the fire
She let me stay up....no one was tired
So cozy and warm...no longer so cold
With popcorn, and candy...and the ghost stories told
That one Halloween, on that night of the storm
Was the best Halloween....and reminds me of home.....
I'll never forget  when each Halloween comes
The candy, the fun....   and the gift from my mom.....


Rhythm I

Old ideas, more like character defects--
no way to pay bills or get paychecks.
Mind-aching explosion,
put up the road blocks,
ticking like a time bomb or a grandfather clock.
Time's up, make a decision,
something you can live with--
space just to breathe and enough room to pivot.
Exquisite provisions--
invaded by religion.
Predicaments that can change one's whole way of livin'.
Conditions, 
they can make you
or absolutely break you.
Be wise with the lifestyle and morals that you take to.
Make haste not to
delay the truth inside the prelude
and maybe one day you
will finally have a breakthrough.

Premium Member Walking My Tiger Home

Walking my Tiger home, if only I had known
in the small print of the sale there was a claws
in a nutshell it was leading to instructions about feeding
if I'd have known I would have stopped to think and paws.
Fur this big cat ain't no Vegan it eats food like Becca Teagan
in fact any living creature roaming free,
which fills me with disquiet since the Tiger's fussy diet
means the only thing at home he'll eat is me.
In retrospect, methinks I should have bought a Lynx
it's much smaller and so are what it will munch
if I'd thought about it sooner I could have got a Puma
since there's cattle up the road he'd have for lunch.
And what would have been much neater is an elegant young Cheetah
since they leave us human people well alone,
much much better than a Panther, that would not have been the anther
since all there'd be of me left is my bones.
So the motion I have carried is to go off and get married
and when the Tiger's ate and belched and had his fill
get re-wed to some more wives, they'll have short but happy lives
and they'll help me to keep down my feeding bill.

For contest 'Walking my tiger home', sponsor David Lindsay
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

Resurrection

(Chorus)
You think you've got swagger but really you hobble,
you've got the jet lagger and you're drunk so you wobble,
don't start on me mate 'cus I will bring trouble,
to put it into slang words I'm Barney Rubble.

(Verse)
I will ruffle trouble 
'cus I'm on another level
that bombs with the base 
and stings with the treble,
I'll strut face to face with any ace rebel,
and put them in their place with their constant bull.

When I rhyme with my contortionist wrist
it expels a mist that sits around my fist,
I spell magic out on paper,
I'm playing with danger,
Mr. Wizardry the word selectionist,
squiggling fiction at speeds that feed friction
into rhymes that are non stop hot and cool, 
so flames don't flame on the table top,
journey with me to witness the plot,
the earth shaker creator of perfected hip hop,
starting revolutions so that mumble is forgot,
dislodging the rust and rot it coughs that clots
and instating my Barney Rubble at the top. 

(Chorus x2)

(Verse)
That last verse was just a small handful,
a sample of something that you cannot handle,
a scan like a bar code,
so lets open up the road and I'll unload these words,
I can't conceal this skill that rolls like wheels,
a Rolls Royce wearing heels,
in fancy halls doing dancing drills,
with golden walls 
to an old skool beat treat.
I wont get signed up by any record label,
but I'm still rhyming better than mumble's able,
just admit you're tapping your feet to the beat
while my rhyme sits on top solid like concrete,
with the dancefloor crammed full,
they're pulling at all angles,
making the memories 
that'll last 'til they're O A P's,
they think they've got swagger 
and they're like Mick Jagger,
they're more like Sepp Blatter
but a little bit fatter.

(Chorus x2)

(Verse)
You can call me Trimendous and true,
you thought I'd flew crashed and was screwed,
but I took it back to what inspired my act,
an old skool hip hop sick rhyme attack,
I rhymed in flight with this write
and its smile's wild with sublime delight,
there are no poetic rare words 
and I don't need swear words
in this dictionary spared verse
with airstream rhythm you can't burst,
I'm wearing this deserved set of words
that pilots and surges to my re-emergence,
a certainty that was never urgent
and not an encore from behind the curtains.

(Chorus x2)
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Spending Time

How often do you think about the time?
For me, it's never very far from mind
Each hour I am reminded by a chime
And when I look, it's left me far behind

Now some will say that you should be resigned
To live each day as if it were your last
If looking up the road, you will be blind
You're wasting time when looking in the past

But time is change and things are changing fast
If you don't look ahead you'll have no plan
You must explore the time already passed
To not repeat mistakes within that span

In life there simply are no guarantees
So I suggest each spend it as they please


     Daniel Turner
Spenserian Sonnet
ABAB BCBC CDCD EE

The Pond

During our time spent in old Blue
There was a pond up the road
That we liked to go to
Didn’t matter if it was hot or froze
When we were bored
Off to the pond we’d go
There were many good times there
So many recollections to share
There were way to many days
Where on the bank we would stay
Fishing pole in one hand
And if we were lucky
In the other hand, a soda can
Sit on the bank and fish all day
Just to pass the time away
One day we had quite a scare
As I felt a tug on my line
I pulled as hard as I dared
And you would never guess
What went flying through the air?
It was large and round
And gave us all a fright
We thought it a monster 
Upon first sight
It landed behind us
At the edge of the woods
Creeping close to take a look
As only kids would
Much to our surprise
And much to our dismay
I had done went and caught
A huge snapping turtle that day!
Another memory that I recall
Was when the pond was frozen
We’d have us a ball
On the ice all day we’d skate
That little pond
Seemed as big as a lake
Skating on ice
Until our calves would hurt
And getting up off our butts
Became way too much work
Round and round the pond we’d go
We loved the cold and the snow
The fun we had back then 
I’ll remember time and again
For when a little pond I find
A little memory stirs inside
Of days of freedom and lots of fun
Beside the pond, sitting in the sun

Orange and Black

I am sounded
By everything,
Orange pumpkins
Candy everywhere
People in masks
Coming up to you, trying to scare you,
But they are the ones running away

Caring the colors of orange and black on me
Walking down the street,
Repeating the same words over and over 
"Trick or Treat"
And an occasional stern look
With the words "thanks...can I have some blood?"

I have colored contacts in, 
And fake fangs,
To frighten everyone
Or at least, that's what they think

What could they possibly see?
That scares them so badly?
A I continue to walk down the street,
Everything disappears
As I am submerged in darkness
Finally heading home
To an old, big, creepy house up the road, and around the corner
Where the real treat is!

The Bus Stop Speaks

The bus stop says its out of use  this week
Men are digging up the road again
I never knew that  modern bus stops  speak

I wonder will the street lamps follow suit
Their  voices like  the chiming of Bog Ben
The bus stop says its out of use  this week

Maybe I can find another route
Will railway stations stutter like shy men?
I never knew that  modern bus stops speak

How to travel ,hearing voices break
Pity and compassion   hit my pen
The bus stop says its out of use  this week

I fear my travel plans  have gone astray
The journey I am on will never end
Did you know that  modern bus stops speak?

From the dark grey sky the rain descends
Evolution staggers round the  bends
The bus stop says it's out of use  this week
I never knew that  modern bus stops  speak

Passing Chance

At the moment the flying fish go by
on the side of the bus with commercial paint
you tip your coffee cup and river
the cafe's table and chair

At the moment the coffee finds the street
with you laughing outward with palms in the air
the wind swoops up a red umbrella 
right out of an old woman's hand

At the moment the umbrella breaks it's silk
in a crash on a rusty old iron fence
a child reveals a chocolate grin
to the wonderment of her mother

At the moment confetti is wiped off the face
with a wettened finger from the mother's mouth
a screeching of wheels holding tires ignites
and sends out a shower of sparks

At the moment the sparks snap into the air
and the car grinds the ground in attempt for speed
the bus with the flying fish slows down
to let one passenger off

At the moment the bus resumes it's haul
with me on the sidewalk bidding goodbye
I turn on my feet and walk back up the road
in an awkard attempt just to meet you.

Premium Member Was He Wearing Camo

There was a gentle breeze on this glistening moon-filled night.
An unknown stranger in the shadow of an oak gave me a fright.
When he turned, I could see he was male, in a bit of light.
He had a nervous cough that was ungodly, not quite right.

We were the only two out here, in the country as far as I knew.
I had chosen this spot in the woods, where the wind always blew.
It was usually secluded, not on my land, but who knew?
Was he wearing camo? I was feeling a bit threatened too.

Suddenly his cough became hacking, and he sounded like a boy.
Not a man at all, which gave my nervous heart a tiny bit of joy.
His vulnerability, made him a bit less frightening to me. 
I asked if he was okay. He ventured closer, so I could see.

I could see he was cold, and some weird motherly instinct kicked in. 
Invited him closer. He came to my campfire – young boy named Finn.
I recognized him as a child of Sara and Bill’s up the road.
I asked if he wanted to talk and his words quickly explode.

He had a fight with his father, and got no help from his mother.
He was gulping now, trying to contain himself somehow or another.
After the story, I told him that things would get better soon.  
Then I took him home, so I could relax again, and get back to my moon.

A Smile Up the Road

If I thought I had a chance
         to even think about romance,
 on you, my sweet, well, it never showed

But if you look my way
         on some sad or sunny day 
    you know, I’m just a smile up the road 

If I could just decide
            to swallow up my pride
 and call on you, would my heart explode

I guess I’ll wait and see
             if you ever think of me
    and know, I’m just a smile up the road

If I could but recall
                   a single word at all
  to give me hope, to ease my weary load

When just your slightest grin
            affects the mood I’m in
    I think, you’re just a smile up the road

Premium Member How Their Eyes Danced With Darkness

We had a desert mission
Just north of us in Zarghun Shahr
But little did we know that day
We wouldn’t get that far.
We did not doubt the intel
That led us up the road of dust;
an IED exploded,
in up armor we trust.
 
To check if there were wounded,
The hatch went down and out we went.
The medics tended to the wounds
And I my ammo spent.
I fired on them with fervor
Though til then I’d not shot
a single round in battle;
Sharp shooter I was not.
 
I focused on the basics:
steady, aim, breath, trigger squeeze;
Before my second shot was fired
I’d brought one to his knees.
A second man was running
but Cam was by my side.
Adept at all things gunning,
He shot, the second died.
 
How their eyes danced with darkness
and no more saw a beam of light,
Turning us into killers
Baptized in blood and fight.
How their eyes turned to rapture
When they died in the Stan
and darkly dancing, stung me,
those eyes of Taliban.
 
How their eyes danced with darkness,
the cursed strangers on that day;
for what they’d done, fate would demand
A heavy price to pay.
I lay there, panting heavily,
and Cam gave me high five.
Our training had not failed us,
and we were still alive.

After the Hurricane.

With her eye in the sky ,
She dumped her bad load.
Tore down the bridge,
Ripped up the road.
No exit to freedom,
No incoming relief .
We watched and we waited
In complete disbelief.
Then she cried all her tears
And watched us all pray ;
A'int nothing easy.... in Big Easy today.

She gave us the blues
And then took our soul .
The notes , out of tune ,
Mixed up in Creole.
When Nature took back
What we took from the sea,
And left us to drown
In her reality .
But we'll dry the tears
And the debt , we'll repay.
But nothing is easy .... in Big Easy today .
© Sean Kelly  Create an image from this poem.

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