Short Cross Country Poems

waxed skis glide smoothly
tracks on fresh, crisp, moonlit snow
frozen woodland sounds...

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When short and running a cross country race
The short guys know when to pick up the pace
Just as we start up the hills
For we know they’ll be some spills
Odds say the tall men may fall on their face
...

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Country


Called American folk,
country music’s genre
caters to tough big-rig 
cross-country truck drivers, 
cowboy wannabees and 
crooners; the blue-collar
corners of the country.


(Pleiades)...

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Automatic automobiles
      Robotic wheels
           Just roll up and go
                Cross country roads
                No need to steer
           It is computer
      Techno rides
Are almost here...

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I just lost all thoughts
for what to write
an ode to all poets?
A political debate?
A cross country race rap?
Arg i feel so ashamed,
So dim Witted
Maybe You my
Poetry Pals
Will spit out 
All you think i should write
And ill for sure dedicate it to all yours=)...

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snow
sports
friend loss
friend gain
rain
track
love findings
self findings
hot
more loss
more gain
some more loss
sad
warm/cool
cross country
new friends
still grieving over losses
cold
still searching for the answer
lost
laughs 
fun
no fun
my year---2009
mine all mine...

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Playing football earned me a concussion
   Basketball tore the cartilage in my knee
Running cross-country sprained me my ankle
   While boxing knocked the sense out of me

Throwing a curveball ruined my elbow
   Swimming lap after lap did 'fix' my shoulder
My erratic golf swing left my back in a knot 
   And I've arthritis everywhere, now I've grown older...

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A young cyclist called Jimmy Pike,
Famous for riding his cross-country bike,
Hit an echidna, his tire went flat,
Stopping his long trek,there he sat,
I think he might have to hitch-hike.

 A kangaroo came jumping strong,
 Paused, then asked, "What is wrong?" 
" A wayward echidna with bad eyesight,
got in the way and stopped my bike,"
Now the pair are bouncing along....

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Shall we travel on a train cross country,
or fly to Paris...

or just fly...

Let us go to South Beach, and use the
wet sand as an abrasive, leaving 
silhouettes only washed away by the 
sea's fury.

Bruise me as you pump passion into 
my veins while I grant total submission
to your freakish fantasies...

erotica...

                our romance...

                                    because I love you....

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