Short Turnstile Poems

The train sped by, life in the distance.
An empty turnstile, one last glance....

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Pushing through the turnstile,
seeking my own niche daily-
The train rumbles in....

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Time regresses
images blur,
memories detained

Tokens injected
into the madness
—forever to remain

(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)...

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From puppy love to rabid biting
My heart, on a turnstile, cannot keep up.
Where are you going? What have I done?
Anger drips down my face—
I am unable to move on....

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O’ inspiration, I seek
Turning tides hazy and bleak
The outline of her forecast
The tear in her turnstile eye steadfast

2/17/2022
A Poem Crafted In The Various Lind30 by Robert Lindley
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke...

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Will you serenade me
  with your sweetest smile
Help me breeze through
  every workday turnstile

Will you dance with me too
  past all the startled looks
Of curmudgeons and drones
  with their heads in their books...

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I visit museums when in Paris
One tourist had got a huge ‘arris’
It took her quite a while
To squeeze through a turnstile
A diet plan could dis-embarrass


Inspired by the Queen song

Been to Paris once - I doubt I would return

10/30/20/...

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I'LL
SINGLE FILE
SOMEWHAT SERVILE
I WALKED THE MILE
STRAINED TO SMILE
ALL THE WHILE
I DISCARD THE GUILE
SWALLOW THE BILE
WITH HAPPY DENIAL
I REDUCE THE PILE
SORRY TO RILE
I'M NO ISLE
SURFED THE DILE
THIS 'CHILE
WALKED NO AISLE
LIFES A TRIAL
SOMETIMES INFANTILE
THROUGH THE TURNSTILE
WITH STYLE
I'LL
PLAY ANOTHER TILE....

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At death, stood one, at a turnstile,
Whether each, facing judgment, would pay.
There, no accord for entry, was made worthwhile,
Nor was there bestowed a ready day.

For the tree that had fallen south or north,
In that direction, endlessly, remained the same.
Only the Godly, advanced henceforth,
Those who honored and glorified God's name....

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Shaping my life.
Encircling strife.
Collective parellels.
Broken sea shells.
Fractioned good and evil.
Turnstile moments of repreival.
Octagons of cessation.
Stars of anticipation.
Wishes boomerang to my chest.
Rectangular mattress to rest.
Birth, life to death.
Triangular first and last breath.
Flesh filled casket, loss.
Redemption through the cross...

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Nothing matters nothings 
changed
Ride the highway to the grave
I missed the train but i'm on 
the bus
Now i find i can't get off
Ghosts of riders from another 
day
Faces smile in the strangest 
ways
In the city i know the cost
I still feel like i'm getting lost

One world were home
One slip were burned
One thing i've learned
There's not another turn......

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they say when
you reincarnate
you come back
exactly to the task

that kept you
from going on
but you need to
keep finding

what you
didn't do
and keep
pressing

on and on
and on you
will go if you
don't know the

question
for how can
you answer that
which you know not

know
what is
if you don't
know what's 

asked 
and so
never
will you

ride the
elevator to
the top
floor

pent
house...

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A hankerin’
an unscratched itch 
which one doesn’t wish to scratch for one
a need for heat and warmth
a turnstile dreamer ushers night to morn.

A what the hell
why not devil may care
for who else does?
The siren calls Ulysses to her gate.

Flower scents surmount
the desert dryness of aging heroines.
Lotharios play grinding tic tac and toes
searching for the golden fleece.

And neither Heaven nor Hell 
concerns themselves
with such mundane matters....

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