En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Confessions (Revised)

Oh dear, I'm even worse than I was in the big,
heavy Jeep; driving a nifty Suzuki today I came
to a strange conclusion traffic was jammed and
decided to switch lanes - left hand indicator on
though in far right lane, two stationery queues
behind as I stood my ground to cross in front of
all of them - and guess what, no-one honked!
All those drivers must have hated me yet not
a soul made a sound. I felt so guilty as I turned,
the robot lights changing red before jammed-up
lanes could flow again, I was sure my guardian
angels would be so angry with me, I repeated
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, as I drove away...

31 May 2012

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Awful Dance (Revised)

I changed into a road-hog today, became guilty
when a black car swept into the right lane where
I drove peacefully in a Zen trance - then slowed,
other cars passed on the left, this unleashed my
anger and when the miscreant car signalled left
I accelerated to pass and guess what: the pest
turned back right in front of me

After repeating the awful dance, me trying to
overtake on the gravelly roadside, fury made
me blind, finally it left and I ended up seething
behind a slow bus and swerved right in front of
a frowning lady driving a white monstrosity who
hooted at me, I waved in apology but her frown
stayed frozen in place, I sighed - the ugly black
car had ruined my peaceful identity…

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Road Back Home

Controlling a motorcycle on the road
is a lethal skill at which
you have to be a master
in order to survive on the road.

Dodging lorries, cars and luxury busses,
overtaking some very slow vehicles
on route twenty-one
in order to turnoff at the Benoni off ramp
I was in the left hand lane
when a old lady almost scattered me
on the rushing tarmac
by changing lanes while
I was right next to her.

The narrow piece of road
on the other side of the yellow line
came to my rescue
but anger ripped through me
and enraged dragons
wanted to throw flaming words at her

and the guy behind me
with the black pee pot on his head
driving a Hardly Davidson
almost ran right into her
and said the words instead
sounding like “you unreal foolish woman”
but realistic it was something much worse
while a car carrying truck
changed lanes cutting us off

and I still smell the rubber
from my motorbike’s braking wheels
and both of our motorcycles
narrowly avoided hitting that truck

but fortunately rows of cars parted
to let us through and the freezing wind,
some heavy fog and light drizzle
was with me the rest of the way home.

poem by Gert Strydom
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I Hate Women Drivers!

I hate women drivers!
Why, can they not park?
Near the kerb?
Not anywhere
With no regards!

I hate women drivers!
Especially in the dark
They put on their blinkers
Because, they can not see.
The problem, is neither can we!

I hate women drivers!
How they love to drive fast
Only for school runs
Then they cruise all day long

I hate women drivers!
Do they believe?
That the traffic lights are stops
To make phone calls
For their daily needs

I hate women drivers!
Can they see there are lines in the road?
They signify lanes
You should only drive in one
Not in all 3!

I hate women drivers!
They stop at zebra crossings
Because they feel this is the time
To speak to their friends and catch up
What feels like an hour long!

I hate women drivers
Oh, I wish men
Will stop shouting
THIS AT ME!

poem by Sarwah OseiTutu
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Days Go By

I'm changing lanes
I'm talking on the phone
I'm drivin' way to fast
And the interstate's jammed with
Gunners like me afraid of coming in last
But somewhere in the race we run
We're coming undone
Days go by
I can feel 'em flying
Like a hand out the window in the wind as the cars go by
It's all we've been given
So you better start livin' right now
'Cause days go by
Out on the roof just the other night
I watched the world flash by
Headlights, taillights running through a river of neon signs
But somewhere in the rush I felt
We're losing ourselves
Days go by
I can feel 'em flying
Like a hand out the window in the wind as the cars go by
It's all we've been given
So you better start livin' right now
'Cause days go by
We think about tomorrow then it slips away
We talk about forever but we've only got today
And the days go by
I can feel 'em flying
Like a hand out the window
As the cars go by
It's all we've been given
So you better start livin'
You better start livin'
Better start livin' right now
Cause days go by
I can feel like 'em flying
Like a hand out the window in the wind as the cars go by
It's all we've been given
So you better start livin' right now
Cause days go by
These days go by
So take 'em by the hand
They're yours and mine
Take 'em by the hand
And live your life
Take 'em by the hand
Don't let 'em all fly by
Come on, Come on now
Don't you know the days go by

song performed by by Keith Urban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Free Car

Afrika's
Like a free car

Driven on tear gas, across road blocks
Torn apart by drivers with
Looting rights, not driving permits

Afrika
Really a free car
With tires, worn out but never tire

And its doors of opportunities
Are ajar, inviting investors or is it imposers!

The fore lights are dim yet bright
Clouded by morning mists, misrepresentations..

The rear lights are images of past regimes!
And absence of memory lanes

A free car is a registered motor mobile
Made in Afrika, by Afro-experts
With free scars

Aars, DK: May 4,2012

poem by John JaraMogi Oloya
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Continue To Live (Revised)

A sweet grey car replaced my noble Jeep,
it is utterly alien to me; oh, I always knew
this day would come, the Jeep's upkeep
was an extra expense we did not need
and now it's gone, I feel terrible for
letting it go so easily

Rejoiced in the ease of transaction, just left
my Jeep - battery suddenly flat when we
went to the garage to make the exchange,
heart of a brave vehicle broken, I pray its
spirit will come to live in the car we
received in its place

It held me safe, even when I sped in front
of oncoming traffic it kept other cars from
bumping into me, alive like Herbie in The
Love Bug, a car holding a spirit, I hope the
Jeep's magical presence will return to me
and be content to live in a Suzuki

which has taken its place…

[ORIGINAL: ]

My noble Jeep gone, feel terrible to
let go so easily, always knew this day
would come, we could not afford the
Jeep's expensive upkeep, sweet grey
car in its place, but utterly alien to me

We rejoiced in the ease of transaction,
I never wept, just left my Jeep - though
its battery suddenly flat the first time we
went to the garage where the exchange
would take place, its bonnet nearly

Injured those beneath, the heart of the
brave vehicle broken - I pray its spirit will
come to live in the car we received in its
place - the Jeep held me safe, even when
I sped right in front of oncoming traffic

Always kept other cars from bumping into
me, alive just like Herbie in The Love Bug,
though the car itself held the spirit, I pray
that the spirit inhabiting the Jeep will return
to me and continue to live in the Suzuki

That has taken its place…

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Telegraph Road

A long time ago came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a pack on his back
And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
Made a home in the wilderness
He built a cabin and a winter store
And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
And the other travellers came riding down the track
And they never went further, no, they never went back
Then came the churches then came the schools
Then came the lawyers then came the rules
Then came the trains and the trucks with their loads
And the dirty old track was the telegraph road
Then came the mines - then came the ore
Then there was the hard times then there was a war
Telegraph sang a song about the world outside
Telegraph road got so deep and so wide
Like a rolling river. . .
And my radio says tonight its gonna freeze
People driving home from the factories
Theres six lanes of traffic
Three lanes moving slow. . .
I used to like to go to work but they shut it down
I got a right to go to work but theres no work here to be found
Yes and they say were gonna have to pay whats owed
Were gonna have to reap from some seed thats been sowed
And the birds up on the wires and the telegraph poles
They can always fly away from this rain and this cold
You can hear them singing out their telegraph code
All the way down the telegraph road
You know Id sooner forget but I remember those nights
When life was just a bet on a race between the lights
You had your head on my shoulder you had your hand in my hair
Now you act a little colder like you dont seem to care
But believe in me baby and Ill take you away
From out of this darkness and into the day
From these rivers of headlights these rivers of rain
From the anger that lives on the streets with these names
cos Ive run every red light on memory lane
Ive seen desperation explode into flames
And I dont want to see it again. . .
>from all of these signs saying sorry but were closed
All the way down the telegraph road

song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heavy Weather

(michael sembello)
In the news today
Heavy weather
Oh, I can remember
The skies were so blue
That lucky old moon I promised to you
Now its gone lately
Somethings happening
I dont understand
Oh, how come decembers
Are hotter that june?
And how come the flowers
Dont know when to bloom?
Somethings wrong, people
Somethings happening
Happening where we live
The rising smoke against an endless sea of cars
As mother nature gets another senseless scar
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
In the world today
Were heading for some heavy weather
The rain is falling harder each day
The faces keep changing
But the problem remains
Somethings wrong, people
Right before our eyes
Weve been hypnotized
The sound of silence
Broken by the sound of war
How can we heal
If we keep opening up the sore?
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
In the world today
Were heading for some heavy weather
Will we ever hear the message?
Read the signs?
Stop all this talking now
Its time to save our lives
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
In the world today
Were heading for some heavy...
The road ahead keeps leading back again
The train were on is coming to an end
Lets open up our eyes
In the world today
Were heading for some heavy weather
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather
In the news today
I guess were in for heavy weather

song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guilty

Just tried to have fun raised hell and then some
I'm a dirt-talkin', beer drinkin', woman chasin' minister's son
Slap on the make-up and blast out the music
Wake up the neighbors with a roar like a teenage heavy metal elephant gun
If you call that guilty then that's what I am
I'm guilty
I'm guilty
I like driving too fast
Love going too far
It seems the law's on my ass every time I stick it out of the door
If you call that guilty then that's what I am
I'm guilty
I'm guilty
Bad boy on a summer night
When the heat makes me mean and I wanna fight
With my pedal to the metal
And I do what I want to do
Bad girls make me feel all right
When it's hot and they start screaming in the night
Golly gee, it's wrong to be so guilty
I'm guilty
Guilty
I'm guilty
My conscience is on vacation in acute degeneration
Willpower has sunk to all-time low
If you call that guilty well I guess I am
I'm guilty
I'm guilty
If you call that guilty then that's what I am
I'm guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty
I'm guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty
Well I'm guilty
Yeah I'm guilty
I don't care
I'm guilty
I think I've been framed anyway
They said I'm guilty
I'm guilty
They're guilty and everyone is guilty

song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Guardian Angel

Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for watching over me
Dear Guardian Angel
You are oh so sweet

You protect me from the wrong
And lead me to the right
If I’m lost in the dark
You take me to the light

Dear Guardian Angel
Why do you care?
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for always being there

You take my hand
And wipe away my tears
You hold me close
And fight away my fears

Dear Guardian Angel
Please stay close to me
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you, I know you’ll always believe

You watch me sleeping quietly
You caress my face lovingly
You brush my bangs out of my eyes
You give me sunny skies

Dear Guardian Angel
Can I make it up to you?
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for always being true

Guardian Angel
I thank you
Guardian Angel…
I thank you

poem by Tyra Falconwing
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Through The Years

Through the years, we have wandered.
Down these, narrow lanes.
First as children to the schoolhouse,
remember the fun and games,
hopscotch and blindman's bluff.
Remember too the lessons,
English and mathematics,
we used to hate them both.
Then there were the teachers,
we had nicknames for them all.
But as the years slipped quietly by,
quite unnoticed by us all.
We had to go to work,
spring, summer, winter, fall.

The peel of bells,
and the sound of laughter,
greeted our Wedding day.
As down the lane to the church,
we all made our way.
But in the distant, echoes of a shattered peace,
were to part us soon,
as the thunder of a hundred thousand feet,
of men marching off to war.
Would soon be heard,
not a mile from our door.
Many of their lives would be stolen,
in battlefields far away.
Few would return, disillusioned,
and full of dismay.

The church is filled with silent payers,
for loved ones in a strange land.
Where men and boys fight,
side by side, hand in hand.
But soon the years slipped by again,
slowly the war was ended.
No one really won.
The lives lost on both sides,
proved the futility of it all.
So once again, we are reunited,
but we are strangers as we meet.
The war has taken its toll,
of my legs and feet.

Time has changed us both,
we are not as close as we were.
We have to learn about each other,
try and sooth the scars of war.
Gentle is our first approach,
the war has made us cautious.
Soon the sound of children,
echo in our vacant lives.
Memories are rekindled,
of our earlier times.
So down the narrow lanes we wander,
as we’ve done so many times before,
but its with new young lives we go.
Let’s hope they will succeed,
where we have failed before.

11/2/1980

poem by David Harris
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Taxi Grab

Shake a leg, its the big rush, cant find a taxi cant find a bus.
Bodies jammed in the underground evacuating london town.
Nowhere to put your feet as the big store shoppers and the pavements meet.
Red lights --- pin stripes --- short step shuffle into the night.
Tea time calls --- the bingo halls open at seven in the old front stalls.
How about a taxi grab.
Theres an empty cab by the taxi stand drivers in the caf washing his hands.
Big diesel idles --- the keys inside --- cmon sally lets take a ride.
Flag down --- uptown --- no sweat. for rush hour travel, its the best bet yet.
Taxi grab.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drive

Came here by car,
Not sure where here is.
But,
Arrived here, by car.
Traveled, so far,
To be here now.
But still,
Don't know where here is.

Rode in the fast lane, past,
Concrete avenues all lined
With suburban memorabilia
Seen the sunrise cross the asphalt
Trundled down country lanes, cattle tamed
Across war torn highways
Miles stretch out, as
The highway passes by
Feel I've been chasing
Down shadows,
Across endless plains
Have seen the broken hearts,
Through cracked windscreens.
Watched teardrops spatter,
Cross a dusty windshield
As a rainbow glistens
In the corner of my eye.
There's a reason these expressways,
Reach towards the horizon.

Have traveled here,
Came by car,
But
Don't know where
Here is.
Came here, by car.
Yet not sure where,
Here is.

© 2012

poem by Nick Strong
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Asymmetry

Nothing torments
like a traffic jam on a freeway
with all lanes coming jam-packed
to a sudden halt,
big trucks grinding down gears
with swaying wagons as they brake,
the idiot on crack cocaine
that tries to overtake being trapped
by oncoming traffic
and then tries to swerve in
where there is no space
and out of the blue
very important persons arrive
and are being escorted in a convoy
which manages to past
with flashing police lights
while you are stuck.

poem by Gert Strydom
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SONNET: The Driver

He drove my cart, along the lanes, He chose!
And whipped my horses, gently, guiding them;
They neighed when air turned colder to their nose;
He stopped at His stations and said, ‘Ahem! ”

Untying my horses, He gave them a drink;
They stood in a water-pool and bathed clean;
And when night came, in slumber they did sink;
And when it dawned, He gave them fresh, grass, green.

He oiled the wheel’s-hub and we darted off;
The Driver knew His destination next;
Sometimes, He said, “For now, that is enough! ”
His actions always left me very vexed!

We finally got down at last, but then,
To my surprise, I found it was Heaven!

poem by John Celes
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City Trees

The trees along this city street,
Save for the traffic and the trains,
Would make a sound as thin and sweet
As trees in country lanes.

And people standing in their shade
Out of a shower, undoubtedly
Would hear such music as is made
Upon a country tree.

Oh, little leaves that are so dumb
Against the shrieking city air,
I watch you when the wind has come,—
I know what sound is there.

poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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041310f Getting Fresh Air

i went to fishing wharfs today
watching crabbers on the bay
police are monitoring them too
getting close to restricted zone
before they can fish all they want
time change soon will be warrants

dolphins didn't show nor osprey
sea lanes dotted with cargo ships
there's a heavy traffic on the bridge
helicopters hoovering for time quota
to satisfy their flight fee; oh! airborne
i got enough therapy, i'm going home

poem by Manonton Dalan
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Upstairs, Downtown

(toby keith/carl goff, jr.)
Route 14 box 308
She said goodbye at the cattle-guard gate
Hoping she would find her a place in the world
With her mind made up and tears in her eyes
It almost made her daddy cry
He said dont forget to call when you get there girl.
Driving on that two lane road hoping she might find
A whole lot more waiting up ahead than what she left behind
Moving upstairs, downtown
Lifes too short to be hanging around
Shes eighteen and its time she got out of the wood
Shes getting out while the gettings good
All bills paid and a room with a view
Shes unpacked a dish or two
She just got her phone turned on today
Theres a big, old world waiting just outside
As shes thumbing through the classifieds
Looking for work and any old jobs okay
Driving on that cross-town freeway hoping she might find
A whole lot more waiting up ahead than what she left behind
Living upstairs, downtown
Lifes too short to be hanging around
Shes eighteen and its time she got out of the wood
Shes getting out while the gettings good
Then she lost her job at the grocery store
And the wolf came knocking at the door
The red notice said they turned off her telephone
Theres nothing left for her to do so shes packed up a thing or two
Loaded her car down, now shes headed home
Driving on that two lane road hoping she might find
A whole lot more waiting up ahead than what she left behind
Living upstairs, downtown
Lifes too short to be hanging around
Shes eighteen and its time she got back to the wood
Shes getting out while the gettings good

song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flutter

word by word
she spoke to me
hidden neath a mess of bygone linnen
she listens as to dry a thousand tongues
my love is thin and thinning
some cherised flower
flutters through
gentleborn beloved you
kindness always
kindness always
i hear the sound
the sound she's left me
i stood her ground
no
they've swayed me
i hear the sound
the sound she's left me
i stood her ground
i hear the sound
the sound she's left me
wrapped tight
inside your shawl
we wander round this dingy hall
softly spoken
shaken tree
the ash grove we come to be
the blood run
the blood run away
from arm and leg to a warm heart
all our colors agree
in the dark
but no man lives upon that land
far enough for us to see
i hear your voice yeah
in the hum of this machine
i hear the sound
the sound you've left me
i stood her ground
i hear the sound
the sound she's left me

song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A True Story l

At a quarter past the hour there came a knock at the door-
it was Giorgio, late as usual.
'Giorgio, you're late', I yelled from my chair.
I knew it was him. He had a very personal knock.
Besides, I was expecting him.

It was getting dark. That's not true-it was dark already.
Traffic on the Avenue was jammed. Horns were wailing.
Head lights, street lights, on, on.
What excuse would he give this time?
Giorgio was what we called a 'space cadet',
come from what you might well call 'generation text',
as any my age would readily agree.
Brooklyn-born and bred, his name despite,
Giorgio was ultra-likeable, if distractible,
but I was unprepared for what came next.

'Doc, there was this fascinating show on TV-
I mean FAS-cinating. I couldn't stop watching.'

'Oh', I said, without much interest,
irked to be undone by a re-run.

'It was called 'Grimm's Stories'. On channel 31
There's lots. Have you heard of them? '

'uh-huh, I replied, looking at my notes,
I think I've heard of the Grimm's things-
somewhere along the line.'

'Well, this one was about a little old guy with a long beard.
Him and this chick made a deal.
He'd do all her work for free
if she could guess his name.
And she did! '

'Sure, ' I said, sitting back,
'I remember that one.
It's called....

-So one night...

poem by Morgan Michaels
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