The thing I do to be nearer to him,
Commuting even in weather so grim.
The things I do to have more acceptance,
Cleaning his home for a much better chance.
The bus I go northbound in drives down memory lane,
As I reminisce about what he and I once were, in silent pain.
The bus I go eastbound with shows me where he's recently been,
As I daydream of a future wish I deeply hold within.
The commute may not always feel worth it,
But I want to show him I love him every bit.
The way home always fills me with sorrow,
But I always know there is another tomorrow.
The things I do for him, despite coming and going,
It is because it is him whom I will never stop loving.
The things I go through for him doesn't make him obligated,
But the least I hope for is my love is one day reciprocated.
The new year found me alone at a deserted roadside,
not knowing where to go but thumbing for a ride.
The signposts displayed 2023 South and 2024 North.
Motorists, speeding along in both directions,
saw my two thumbs up pointing in both directions.
They all stared, as if to say, "Make up your mind".
It did not matter to me where it took me, my mind
was set to board any ride that bothered to stop.
Whether we care or dare to go here or there, thumbing
and bombing without care can take us just about anywhere.
As it happened, a Southbound motorist picked me up, and
before I knew it, I was seeing places I had already been.
I felt like a kid on a merry-go-round, except that I felt no fun.
The driver then said to me that some of us might feel like going
backward or staying put for fear of where the Northbound lanes would
lead. And then he said, "The only eyes we have are in front of our heads".
010824PS
It has been my observation
While in the northbound traffic queue
That roading companies impose
Nonsense rules to make you stew
The first and most important rule
For Health and Safety regulation
Is to put out a thousand road cones
To block (I mean aid) traffic navigation
Next, have too many roading signs
Make sure they make no logical sense
So traffic cops sense your confusion
And can charge you with an offense
Rule three is easy to remember
Wherever there is a pothole.... ignore!
Seal the road around it to guarantee
More roading contracts by the score
Rule four, watch out for road workers
As they can be an unruly mob
(I would do this out of courtesy
If only I could see someone on the job)
At last, the queue is moving now
Spraying gravel abundantly
I think this is the place for me to start
A windscreen company!
Rat a tat tat - train on slow track
Each day takes me - to work and back
My mind it tune - clickety clack
Its hypnotic - repeating sound
Resonating - within my mind
Rat a tat tat - it goes around
But it must go - hear squeal below
Tis terminus - no further go
Sadly now end - that rhythmic flow
A man, quite renowned, came into our town;
He tried to expound on matters profound.
He frowned when he found as he tried to expound:
drowned by the sound of a hound in the town.
This was indeed a hound most renowned!
The sound from this hound, when on a rebound,
knocks a man down in a mound on the ground.
He looked all 'round: northbound, southbound, eastbound, westbound.
Nowhere he looked could that loud sound be found:
the fairground, the playground, the foreground, the background.
Finally he found himself down at the pound.
A foxhound, a coonhound, a bloodhound, a greyhound:
all of these hounds could be found at the pound,
but none of the hounds made that kind of sound.
A boy came around and said while he frowned,
his puppy was wound up, would not settle down.
"Your little dog too! Ha, ha," he clowned.
A little chihuahua made all of that sound?
Well, he dropped his jaw when he heard the chihuahua.
Now, he expounds on this hound most renowned.
----------
For the Nursery Rhyme 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper
Written on 04/14/2022
Canaries
By LoLa
The afternath of crossing paths
The war that waged; our demons’ wrath
Our minds intwined in broken trust
The dawn of fall; a slave to lust
Weapons turn from phaser to stun
Countless trials we shouldn't have won
savagery done; just chasing a thrill
Searchingly seeking a reason to kill
Lovedrugs served to turn us cold
Injected fates for prayers to hold
The light that shines on broken minds
Will darkness come to drive us blind?
Heading down south to ease my pain
Northbound demons; callin my name
Take me away from tales of crime
Lasting paths where hearts beat in time
Scores Of doubt sing loudly inside
Kind minds echo subconscious pride
We can't define what never dies
Our Timeless lives with modern ties
The little death of every night
You lie awake in spite of sight
Lost memories where tears collide
Subconscious fears that hide inside
Anxiety of posioned sons
The crushing weight for Chosen ones
No mercy from our Maker's dawn
No sanctuary in a song
Remarkable, how crass the sounds
Sleepless nights, deep underground
Lets hurtle straight into the sun
The fear released when we are done
Image of Coyote Animal Snow by Pixabay
Coyote Corner
Coyotes are wolves near cognate brothers,
closer to jackals who are bred o'er seas,
plus, noted slang for smugglers of mothers
and tots who lacked to grasp the ABCs.
Found hereabouts the USA, merely
south of the border some ways then back up
northbound throughout Canada. Stars queerly
dusk also dawn ... wreak howls, dull stares faceup.
Coyotes balance the way that they hunt;
when they are alone, they pounce on small prey,
nevertheless, whenever they confront
larger beast's, pack forms and perfects the slay.
When faced by coyotes, thrash your body,
yell, throw objects or be a wolf and *pee.
*Though blood brothers, wolves are also a coyote's nemesis and they are quite savvy of "marking one's territory".
2021 June 1
*1st Place*
A BRIAN STRAND SONNET
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2021 July 30
For a few weeks, they descend upon Central Park greens.
To refresh and feed after a long northbound journey.
Flying through thousands of gray and blue miles.
Arriving in feathered shawls in every color and style.
Pasty-eyed birders come out to happily greet them.
Praying to get a picture of that ooh-ahh moment.
Beautiful things fancy to play hide and tease.
In thorny brambles and the tallest of trees.
Chirping "try and find me-try and find me".
They stay until they've gained proper strength.
Growing weary of the hide-and-seek game.
Leaving behind the concrete embedded in violence.
And a few precious gems to appease pasty eyes.
A northbound river and a southbound train
for we're moving to a more clement clime
and swear we're never coming back again.
Sun’s low on horizon of the Great West Plain
you always said sunset was so sublime
on a northbound river by a southbound train.
Together we shared both pleasure and pain
which fused as one with the passing of time
and swore we'd never come back again.
But there's a sense of loss that's hard to explain
a sad song searching for a long lost rhyme
bout a northbound river on a southbound train.
With nothing to loose, everything to gain
we gave our all, down to the last dime
until we knew we had to go back again.
We gave our best and there was no crime
as young dreams faded to a sad refrain
for you knew we’d always come back again.
to this northbound river by a northbound train.
We ourselves must walk the path.
Buddha
We ourselves must dance Earth's revolving
evolving
revolutionary viral path
empowering and disempowering
healing violence
and hurting peace,
Compassion
wandering toward multilateral peace
restoring cooperatively just ways,
co-invested means
We ourselves must sing
global gospel harmonies,
anthems for political empowering directions,
against economic disempowering elections
Dancing away
from our ego/eco-singing selves,
ancient memory paths
before division
into secular v sacred,
natural v spiritual,
Left yang-strength v Right yin-flow,
Western resilience v Eastern resonance
on every NorthBound co-arising
co-gravitating trail.
Rain
An unnoticed ship
sails across the sky.
Its leaden oars trail
swift exploration
down the horizon.
It stern-ward went
forth, swift over
northbound upon
the briny shore
and firmly
stood upon
grassy hills,
emptied
its bulk.
Rain.
4/1/2019
Favorite Poem From Last Week (March 31-April 6, 2019) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
‘pon a Northbound Breeze
Listen as you close your eyes
whispers sweet a’ call your name
floating forth of chestnut skies
tucked between the falling rain
softly from my lips does flow
wishes in a shimmered blend
so my love this night you know
‘pon a northbound breeze I send
Good night Soupers
morning sky cold gray
snow geese - muffled honking
northbound - early
Looking North, an evening sight,
undulating ribbons, gleaming bright,
pierce the gloom of darkest night.
Constantly flashing red and white,
snaking slowly till out of sight.
Eager for haste, anxious for flight:
yet held in abeyance, this evening rite,
no longer a commuter’s delight.
Southward bound - an evening affair,
white and red ribbons vividly declare
they too can, with illuminating glare,
pierce the gloom, to a place where
gaiety and pleasure - theirs to share,
awaits the single or fun loving pair.
Snaking swiftly - no time to spare,
though most travel with due care,
they streak towards the city flare,
oblivious to all northbound despair!
Northbound, southbound, nose to tail,
traffic congestion - an evening tale!
Frustrated commuters, rant and rail
against inadequate roads, that fail
to deliver. But still they prevail,
despite promised changes that fail
to relieve the all too modern travail,
that bespeaks of traffic nose to tail!
Rhymer. December 22nd, 2017.
Freedom Usurped!
Homeward Bound,
northbound;
A red car with four doors,
the red horse of the apocalypse;
suddenly, suffocated, gasping
air thick with fumes;
Soon, freedom through death!
Struggling for a breath,
unbearable pain in chest;
Open the window!
Freedom Usurped!
Police pursuit,
stop the car!
I just can't walk the line!
Cited!
for driving
while
DEAD!
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