Short Tunneled Poems

Recalled,
That country road
Between the knowledge trees;
An arch of truth, a freshening
Of soul....

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Dark lines betray
A lover's soul
Shadows cast
Within the tunneled alleyways
Hidden beneath
Sun sparkled peaks
Traps sprung in loneliness
Baited in despair's longing
Scented
With false hope
Watched over
By predatory pain

A rat scurries
In the silence.

John G. Lawless

1/7/2020...

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Farm child or a child from the city
Every one of them know the magic
Something to be dove into from up high
Or tunneled into through a secret door
A haystack can be anything you can imagine
A pond or a castle or anything in between
But it will always be fun
And who could ever ask for more...

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She ran up his spine,
he turned to water.

A geyser of light spurted out of an artery
of unrecognizable thoughts
that tunneled him into her.

He was being opened up;
he began to look around
see only the him/her
of everywhere.

He felt like
an empty can of Spam.

He loved Spam,
it was a cosmic kind of love
that came in many flavors....

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They trusted the tree, so they tunneled beneath her.
Knowing she would keep them safe during the winter.
The bear made his nest first, then the fox.
Lamb followed her mistress, loving her reading voice.

Gaia kept them warm, nurturing them.
The book reader had to come up for food.
As did the fox.
However, the bear slumbered on, listening to the story....

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Writing in meter, ending in rhyme,
  the journey became clear
   —destination in mind

Writing in meter, ending in rhyme,
  my words tunneled inward
   —their meaning sublime

Writing in meter, ending in rhyme,
  free of the ramble
   —heartbeat aligned

 Writing in meter, ending in rhyme,
   the feeling immortal
    —remembered in time

(Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)...

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wearisome is the ardent wine, 
icy corridors
we sooty birds descend nimbly into nests
high in drear corridors, collecting leafy glisten

among the psychotic-seeming industry
and throng of souls' bitter rinds.
i, tunneled roots, blackened bark clinging
feebly peel away, reveals then
what teething bishops sung.

a petty triumph of marrow... boxcars and
 boxcars clangin' fertile to the 
fallen ladders...

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I'm sitting here with nothing to do
but occupy my mind with strange, disturbing thoughts -
that twist and change their shape
in a most alarming way.
It often happens that my thoughts overtake me
and I get lost in the mazes they have wrought -
have tunneled through my brain, day by day.

Shall I sit down in a corner, and hide there forever,
Listening to the echo of my screams?
Day after day, Life after Life,
as my soul cries and bleeds

And painful reality shatters my dreams....

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Passion consumes my every thought. 
Pounding rhythm thunders behind thoughtless actions. 
Tunneled vision surrounded in blackening redness. 
Seeing only her shadow in the blinding light. 
Shivers shudder my spine as nearness daunts me. 
What if? 
And if then what else? 
An unfinished sculpture crashes to the floor. 
A wet canvas bursts into flame. 
Does she even know my name? 
Storm ends in dripping sunlight 
Bent maples wave in slow relief 
As the street begins to steam....

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It felt like he was looking around
though his eyes were viewing him through
ten-thousand other eyes
that shone in the black-cat night.
Atoms were rumbling like boulders
down his spine,
then he turned to water,
a geyser of light spurting out of an artery
of unrecognizable thoughts
that tunneled him into Her.
The Her was looking around him now,
opening him up.
Then he really began to look around.
When he awoke, for a long while
he felt like an empty can of Spam.
He loves Spam....

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