Death is in relentless pursuit.
It pervaded my thoughts,
assaulted my senses.
I scramble, rerouting courses.
A thousand voices call out my name.
Taunts, screams, cries alike.
Yearning, warning;
Calling, crying;
Run, run, run.
Run through the phantasmagoric vicinity--
The end is not far.
A hooded figure speaks my name,
its voice benignant-- a mere whisper,
Unlike prior haunting echoes.
It beckons me over with an extended arm.
My pursuer, waiting for me like an old friend.
I was only shadowed by my own fate,
pulled by my destiny.
Trapped in my own life,
My thoughts are vague.
Lost in moments, I flip a page,
Skimming through to find solace.
Shadows of ruin blur my sight,
An illusion of wandering through the darkest nights.
Time passes by, it waves wearing a frown,
In depths of deep waters, I drown.
A hand to my rescue,
Yet the tide denies me fortune.
The jury's treachery,
Fuelling my wallow in misery.
Finding a way with nothing, alone
Fighting my way through to discover the unknown.
I am a character in the mix of this drama,
Navigating the plot where twisted lines reach the climax.
Perceiving life as a poet,
I capture this solitude into a verse.
From within the theme, I uncover my worth,
Rerouting for my rebirth.
Drove lots of miles
To connect with old friends.
Whenever we see them,
The fun never ends.
So when we said goodbye,
We felt sad ‘cause we knew
We’d not meet again soon
And what also was true…
Was the trip home would be
Filled with traffic so slow
There’d be much too much stop
Interspersed with the go.
The GPS took us
Through neighborhoods where
We’d not traveled before
But to help us prepare
We would get an alert –
We’re rerouting your trip.
This will save you 6 minutes,
A technical blip.
For no matter which way
We would turn, we’d be stuck.
To travel today, you are
Just out of luck.
"turn right in 180 meters"
Turned left,
To feed the occasional
Anxiety.
"Rerouting to your destination."
"turn right in 180 meters"
Turned left,
To feed the occasional
Anxiety.
"Rerouting to your destination."
Today I'm starting over again
With yet another chance.
To broaden my horizons
Although my years advanced
My competition undefeated
Always likes to race
That ageless legendary man
With numbers on his face
I passed this way, before today
Traveling with him, my friend
But stopped to take a break, per say
Without informing him
Rerouting several hundred times
With shortcuts he's in sight
Determined this time to pass him by
Or least ways reunite
With a lot of focus and some hocus pocus
I will get there first
Unless, instead, I drop dead
And have to catch a hearse
The problem is we can't agree
Who decides the winner
But two things are certain
He ain't hurtin'
And cheaters are always the worst
written at age 60 during freshman orientation at college
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
20 Claps of Thunder
20 claps of thunder
19 kids are shouting
18 streets are flooding
17 lanes rerouting
16 lights are flashing
15 horns that blow
14 sirens wailing
13 weather men didn't know
12 umbrellas going up
11 old ladies fall down
10 times zero yards mowed
9 fender benders in town
8 tornado watches
7 cars skidding by
6 people wearing raincoats
5 birds in the sky
4 baseball games cancelled
3 little wet dogs barking
2 trees blowing in the wind
1 afternoon sky darkening
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