Tunnels Poems - Poems about Tunnels

Tunnels

Tunneling through nightscapes,
weightless moon doll escapes. 
Collapsing space-time,
the pages and pages,
of fluttering windblown stages
in quantum nonlocality,
a graphic novel engages.
	
Burrowing through dystopian nocturne,
the night traffic gives us heartburn.
In magical claytronics, everyone is reassembled,
reincarnated by cosmic consciousness,
a karmic cautiousness, a persistence of
endless distance but finite parallel.
We see the light out of this tunnel.
Can we make the quantum

Ballad of the Harecastle Tunnel

The moon shone on the water
Dyed ochre by the iron mines. 
Centuries of men have toiled 
In trenches and in chines. 
Carving through the sheer rock face
To tunnel under hills
Canals to link the land of wealth
To the cities of the mills. 
Airless channels deep below
While all above is calm
And death could be a breath away
Placed

Ramsgate Tunnel Wayra

concrete existence

echo in emptiness as

the night turns powdered steel rouge

lost in the labyrinth

passage in shadows of deep tones



8/14/2019



Poetry Contest: SECOND EDITION OF WAYRA
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud

Tunnels

Tunnels we all live in, like rodents. 
Small or                         big, wide or
narrow,                   

Tunnels

come, 
my darling

grab your desires
   put on your dreams 

let's build a wall 
together, you and I, 
alongside the border
between the time zones
some will call it pure insanity

to find nothing but each other 
in tunnels we'll later dig
under that same wall
as we escape time
for a new reality.

Lights and the End of Tunnels

The light at the end of my tunnel was merely a lamp plugged into the wall; sitting juxtaposed on the hard cement floor. I took a seat next to it, letting my skin absorb it's small cloud of light. In my head I knew that eventually this lightbulb would burn out, and leave me in

The Tunnels On Elizabeth Street

The tunnels on Elizabeth street.



Working for 20 hours straight, feet in pain, body bruised, hands cut up, shoes ruined

the rest of New York will never see the early blue morning

walking homes cause the cabs are not in service, buses are but not enough change

behind the deck of labor I crush trash as the rest of

In the Tunnels Below Jerusalem

Stones which were laid centuries ago line our path
The past comes alive once more in these stones
Millenia have passed since these stones were laid 
One can almost feel the sweat and toil it took to lay them
The years have changed us
But some things remain unchnaged
The power that draws people to this ancient city
Has kept us

My Experience In the Hospital Campus Tunnels

Iron monsters
with bearded men astride,
stir a whirlwind
crashing past me howling warnings
then evanesce into silence.

A man dressed
like an angel
concludes by saying, "take care"
before sallying forth 
down the long cement block corrider.

I walk through the tunnel,
surrounded by multicolored tubes.
Figures in uniforms grow near then diminish
into vanishing point
entrances to new encounters.

Tunnels

With a screech like an owl that lives in the park;
It moves like a shadow from out of the dark.
While repeating the stories that come to their ears;
There in the tunnel a vision appears.
Running like rodents, scrambling for cheese;
They repeat all their stories like a spreading disease.
Thoughtlessly selfish, the frightened recite;
And there’s no joy in

Our Two Tunnels

The beginning is the same as the end. 
Coming into this place, waiting to transcend. 
We come out of our mother's womb, 
seeing if we get that chance to bloom. 

No matter if you believe or are existential, 
We will always try to be the quintessential. 
While you're here, see what life is about, don't

Tunnels of Ambiguity (A.Hail.Of.Bullets.Is.All.I.Feel Remix)

On trains
             on trains
                        trains that travel through tunnels of ambiguity in delusion
The rectangular motion of the subtle wheels meld

Tunnels of Ambiguity

On trains that travel through tunnels of ambiguity.
The motion of the wheels meld into the subconscious.
A commuter routine of blood sweat and ignorance.
Outside fragmented windows stand the borders of disease.
A chaotic jumble of envy and spiritless ineptitude.
Roll into the station whilst time grinds still.
Tickets to oblivion checked by the conductor of greed.
End of the line

Tunnels

way down deep
in the tunnels of my soul
hide the thoughts and feelings
that I have never shown

like a vortex in the ocean
with no ending it begins
circling always circling
as my mind continues to spin

as the hands sweep on a clock
I try to brush them all aside
they keep swimming to the surface
washed in with the high tide

the wall

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