transport me from here
to a blissful heaven of
rum and coke on ice
I arrove from Dover, driving in a rover I
Eschewed the alfa-romeo, having an
Aversion to clover.'
Love starts off as a train,
Speeding down a tunnel that seems to last forever,
And you would love nothing more than for it to be eternal,
Sometimes, the person next to you leaves,
And another sits down to take their place,
But there’s always someone new to keep you company, if only you wait
Love eventually becomes a car along a road,
Where arguments become bumps,
Then become nails in the road,
And it’s easy to get a flat.
But take a breath,
Too many times do people abandon a car,
That just needs a new tire
Love’s final transformation is a boat,
Where a storm is rare,
But never impossible,
You and your partner have overcome the bumps of the road,
And are now smooth sailing,
The everyday ocean you once thought of monotonous, is now what you live for
And you’re surrounded by an ocean of content
Unfortunately, like all good things,
It must come to an end,
One day life will force you to dock,
Whether you want to or not.
Appreciate the rush of the train,
The smoothness of the road,
The peacefulness of the boat,
Because you never know when
your train will derail,
Your car crashes,
Or your boat capsizes,
So love who you love, with all you have
From fields of gold to the city's cold embrace,
He came a farmer, with a weathered face.
Dusty clothes, hands calloused and worn,
Carrying the burden of harvest born.
But steel and glass denied his rightful claim,
A public servant, fuelled by disdain.
"Unfit," they scoffed, for comfort and ride,
Ignoring sweat beneath the sun's harsh tide.
A captured scene, a viral shame,
Sparked outrage, burning in social flame.
"Is this the city, where clothes define worth?
Does dignity vanish with the smell of earth?”
The farmer stood, his spirit unbowed,
Though pride was crushed and his heart clouded.
He carries the weight of unseen scars,
Of judgment swift, and judgment's harsh bars.
A single act, a ripple of pain,
Unveils the cracks where prejudice reigns.
But from the depths, a message takes flight,
For all who struggle, for justice and rights.
Let not his sacrifice be in vain,
Let empathy flow, like summer rain.
May bridges be built, hearts open wide,
Where all find welcome, with dignity as their guide.
pondering morning
best start to another day
daydream devotee
Transport Phenomena
Transfer of matter
Characteristics alter
Charge transfer
Accompanies heat transfer
Heat transfer
loss of power
Power loss
Creates Fuss.
Be positive
Less resistive.
More active
Less passive.
Active is inductive
Also susceptive
Magnetic, electric and energetic
Power generic.
Flux Change is cyclic
Nevertheless dynamic.
Law that governs nature
Predicts its future.
@Ketaki Patankar
underground breeze
throughout the subway platform
crowd of travelers
Mayday, Mayday Kirk!
Transport to Galileo
Needs energizing
Running on impulse
All deflector shields are down
And venting plasma
Possible core breech
Romulan battle cruiser
De-cloaked and attacked
They've taken the ship
Corbomite Maneuver may
Be the last resort...
The curfew city rustles
People begin their hustles
Transport and markets bustle, noisily
The curfew has served its purpose,obviously
We get it more clearly now
From ourselves we knew not, to protect us, how
Enter the consummate politician
He protects business interests, not the Physician
He spews numbers daily bigger
Wields authority, we figure
Advises that we borrow heavily, to save us
We get broker, as we fall under the debt bus
Free Fall to Liftoff
for my father, Paul Ray Burch, Jr.
I see the longing for departure gleam
in his still-keen eye,
and I understand his desire
to test this last wind, like those late autumn leaves
with nothing left to cling to ...
Keywords/Tags: autumn, winter, leaves, leaving, cling, clinging, wind, death, flight, fly, flying, transport, free fall, liftoff, departure, bare, barren, leafless, skeletal, uplifting, heaven
in public transport service
everyone knows everybody
all remaining unknown ...
JUST THE WAY WE ARE
When on Friday morn'
we woke up hastily
children rushed to school
parents rushed to resume work
heavy traffic
hopping from one bus to another
hiked transport fares were hurridly forgotten
and town hall meetings we must attend
classes take backdrops
raindrops mixed with teardrops fell on our cheeks
three years of hard work retracted
who do we tell our silent sobs
wasted midnight candles
burnt whilst we tried to meet new promotion templates
is it a crime to work hard?
is it a crime to remain in the dark continent?
or is it...
just the way we are.
The green house is here!
The green house is here!
All of us ran out to watch the green house as it slowly made its way
Down the street about half a block, no make that a quarter of a block in an hour.
At last, it was on its merry way.
Thanks to our Auntie Vi who knew all about it, we had all heard
That you can move an entire house intact, and it was going to be moved on
Saturday, but none of us had ever seen such a sight until today.
By ten a.m. there were 59 people sitting in lawn chairs or blankets, or on the bare
Grass, watching the men with the powerful flatbed trucks move an entire house, a green
House, with lots of windows, and no front door, down our street, it was proud and tall.
Where are they taking her? A strange teenager asked my mother. She did not know, so she
Shrugged her shoulders. This is Midwest Iowa talk for “I don’t know, and don’t ask me again.”
I shrugged too, having no idea at all.
But this was a once in a life time experience,
and I have never forgotten it,
and I suspect I never will.
Its My car
Thousands of miles together we travelled
maps then a sat nav journeys unravelled
collected all sorts, even went to the tip
bus into town, no in the car I'll just nip
MOT services tax, insurance as well
paying the bills down to me it all fell
Now at the end the bills just to big
think its all over I have to admit
one last journey together we made
down to the scrapers only I walked away
the end of this tale is not very nice
travelling on roads comes at a price
pounds shillings and pence me it did cost
but for my beautiful car its life was lost...
PUBLIC TRANSPORT NATION
AH..the joys of public transportation
The “T”, the “El”, the “Tube”
short trips through hell
wading through the masses of humanity
clinging to the subways lack of sanity
sleeping men and women – homeless
sprawled upon the benches,
the less fortunate among us – “bums”
redefined as “monetarily deficient”.
“Elderly” – strap clutching hangers-on
ignored by the seated “texters and tweeters”
video game players, and “up-skirters”
inhaling the toxic cocktail of perfumes,
colognes, body lotions, hair sprays,
hair gels, and anti-body odor poisons -
choking on the inhaled culture of diversity
Focused on one spot lest eye contact occur
swaying to the music of too-loud ear buds,
strobe lighted rumble through darkness,
flashes of life, of history, never fully known.
John G. Lawless
8/29/2015
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