On a train
Heard man splain
Female brain
Such a strain
Long refrain
Total pain
Real cross grain
Just a stain
Up stood Jane
Made it plain
Straight explain
To contain
His campaign
In wrong vein
Not his lane
Just insane
canopy of trees
arched over the winding lane
a peaceful presence
For Brian Strand's 1393 Poetry Contest
26 June 2025
Contest Judged: 7/1/2025 9:06:00 PM
1st Place
____
/ \
l STOP l
\_____/
l _____________
l /===========\ white lines guide the way,
/ // // // ll \\ \\ \\ \
/ // // // ll \\ \\ \\ \ footsteps soft on sun-warmed path,
/ // // // ll \\ \\ \\ \
/ =====================\
/_______safe passage for all._______\
When I wake up in the morning
I continue to lie down
Over there a rain keeps falling
Sounds of cars hiss all around
Through the curtains morning’s better
Motionless I watch its glow
Rainy morning comes like letter
With no content worth to show
Morning headlines make me sad
Instant coffee turns me on
Off I go for wine and bread
To the grocery near home
I get up and I get down
All along the same old lane
Sky gets bluer over town
There’s a white streak of a plane..
Down here on Ruby Lane
Sitting looking at the rain
Looking at my glass of red
Thinking what I haven’t said
If through negligence some changes
Shuffle here with rearrangements
Nothing’s changed its all the same
Changes die on Ruby Lane
From the dullest land of mad
I have come to get some bread
And some wine I need to take
Just to have a little break
Cause I can afford it now
No one’s here to disallow
They don’t care neither do I
Could it be I’ve come to die
In this place that’s fine by me
Where I laughingly can see
Sunny spots through drops of rain
Down here on Ruby Lane.
I don’t like to swim
So a swimmer I’m not,
But I am in Florida
And it is hot!
While visiting friends,
We sat by the pool,
The sun beating down
Where I’d sweat like a fool.
But I learned a new way
To cool off, doing laps
By walking in water -
You’ve tried it, perhaps?
It felt so refreshing
And it could be seen
As a part of a person’s
Aerobic routine.
And the cherry on top
Is I got to replace
My pale New York complexion
With pink on my face.
I rode the steed of memories to where my childhood lay,
Dreaming through the dusty lanes as laughter echoed far away
Of fairs that buzzed with colour, and joy that never dies
Of carefree games with friends beneath the sunlit skies.
But when I reached that faded lane, the world had turned to stone,
No laughter rang, no faces showed—just silence, cold and alone.
The fair had packed its magic up, and friends moved on,
And I stood there—a stranger now—where once my soul had shone.
"Take it to the limit" as i
Have a "peaceful easy feeling"
I will be Already gone"
When I leave your "Lyin eyes"
Drinking a " Tequilla Sunrise"
"After the Thrill is gone"
Then "Take it Easy"
Sending the "Best of my Love"
While I still Live "Life in the Fast Lane".
A Tribute to The Eagles.
w.t. Bacon
Rush Hour
traffic is stop and go
horns honking like mad geese
windows down in the heat
choice words said in anger
social fingers signal
suddenly my lane clears
Lucky me for having Lin in my life for nearly a decade
I've had her friendship, loyalty and unwavering support
Never has there been an inkling of cross words between us
Lin is an amazing poet and her paintings are beautiful
Always ready to offer her time and assistance to others
Nothing is too troublesome for her when someone is in need
Editor of both my books; for her patience, I'm ever grateful.
They gather where the signs hang crooked,
under gaslight glare and broken clocks,
where the barkeep’s eyes are twin shot glasses—
fogged, but watching.
Gin Lane rolls in on tired boots,
her laughter sharp as shattered glass.
Beer Street hums a fatter tune,
slumped in booths of sticky leather.
They meet at the hinge of last call,
where poetry is slurred and prophets mumble.
A jukebox wails old revolutions
to a crowd too drunk to notice.
The walls are graffiti'd with regrets,
phone numbers of ghosts,
and chalked-up debts no one will ever pay.
Outside, the world is coughing up history,
but in here, time stirs with a muddler.
The bar is a church with no god,
only spirits, and the faithful who sip them.
Some come to forget,
others to remember louder.
A woman in red sings with her back to the room.
A man orders another round
and trades his name for a tab.
Everyone claps when the glass breaks.
Midnight hits like a bottle to the head—
the bouncer shrugs,
Beer Street staggers,
Gin Lane pirouettes into the dark.
Every rejection, a redirection
Don't be ashamed or let it tame you.
Don't let them change you,
If they won't accept who you are.
People don't value
What they can't control or own,
Just stay in your lane doing it your way.
Many only wanna partake
In your blessings not lessons
I hope you understand this!
Just be you as you are, do you
Always look forward
Don't be a coward
Let go of all that no longer serve or value your worth.
Master yourself
Know your mind, for it's the only limitation
Let no one belittle you
Leave wherever you're not welcomed.
Whenever you're rejected;
Give yourself selflove injection,
Steadily giving yourself self reliance.
lover’s lane
empty
lonely
lipless
leveled by texts
not policed
“Thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes.” He said,
Filled with milk and honey but overwhelming his expectations - he feared,
Finding peace and solace in its feel of evermore candor-not for-yet made for-in plentiful, he cheered,
Until I sought no more in its unparalleled enchare.
Out the door she gushed and out his heart she made deport,
Staring across the open door, across the hallway with his heart implode,
Laying waste to the mask which clots his eyes afore.
I implore to thee, whose eyes are that of a doe,
Sing into my ears once more and ward off my fiery foes,
Dance with me once more, oh how I MISS YOU so.
on a broken night
marinated in lost thought
a pen with papers
tried many sweet rhyming shots
they sketched and screeched of weird creeps
never-named poems,
sang them to tunes, sold to fools.
then comes salty preach~
the damn nerve to rob and thrive
off a barely legal child…
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