As The Fog Rolls In
Kerouac comes out of the fog & mist
a ghost smoking a joint
offers me some
finally -
what suffering I think
to scratch out a few lines
stolen from the humming dynamo
which spins the universe -
cars pass along the low road
more pass on the higher road
red & blue lights along the horizon
disappear in the thick Atlantic fog
which swallows all remaining lights
car headlights
the farmer arrives turning on the light
which floods out through the barn doors
releases the horses to wander around their corral
the big red horse moves towards the fence
eyes me wishing to speak to me
or just looking for a treat
or someone to stroke his head
a Chinese flute is playing
such sad high fragile notes
as the fog rolls in
someone is teasing a tabla drum in the distance
as the fog rolls in from the gray Atlantic
someone is strumming a sitar
as the fog rolls in
someone is playing a jig on a fiddle
as the fog rolls in
everything has its own theme music
from the fog rolling in
to the celestial bodies
rolling across the firmament -
an ancient voice in the distance bellows
an old god reawakening
rising out of the sea
of myths & dreams
turns into a prosaic electronic being
the fog rolls in stays for days
our world shrinks
the buzzing stars a delight
as if dying one by one
as the black curtain is drawn shut
the distant hills disappear
lights flicker on towers then fade
cars pass on the road
til the road is cloaked in the mist
horses wander around their corral
keeping me company
as they too dissolve
as the light from my porch is swallowed
sucked into the pitch blackness
as I sit smoking a cigarette at 3am
the smoke swirls & curls
as the darkness enfolds me -
roads criss-crossing entangled
leading us into endless circles
lost in a maze of concrete & tar
black ribbons entwined
only trees & more trees
fields opening up
spreading to the horizon
cows lying down waiting for the rain
red barns & towering silos
houses on distant hills
then suburbia
a thousand cul-de-sacs
suddenly giant apartment complexes
pushing up through the earth
dropped out of the firmament
rise around us on all sides
towers of steel & glass
a city conquering the the country-side -
passing through a thousand quaint fishing villages
each a clone of the last
rocky shores boats tied up
old weather worn docks
in blinding light
or cloaked in mist & fog
trees along the shore road
velvet gray & green moss hanging from branches
a few scattered patches of living green
some trees half-dead line the shores
for a thousand miles
death-throes of a dying alien planet
not the one known in our childhood -
cannoeing across lifeless lakes
waves lapping against the canoe
not quite like the Indian Princess
who wrote of her singing paddle
lost in colonial dreams -
poem by Gordon Coombes
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Related quotes
A lane in England
In autumn I walked in England
in a lane full of trees
where leaves lay auburn
on a road wet from rain.
Barren, stripped oak trees
were between other green ones
and it was as if I was going
right through a tunnel
with here and there trees
of which the leaves were more yellow.
In the distance the road bended to the right
where a bush fence
cut neatly square
and telephone poles
ran along the edge of the road
and the green moss banks
were covered with auburn leaves
at places
and on the other side
of the road
a shrub stretched out green and long
like a sausage
that was lying next to the road
and I would love
to have a lane like that
next to my driveway.
poem by Gert Strydom
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I’m going to Paint my Best Picture Ever
As soon as I wake before my coffee
I’ll grab that canvas brush and oils
To paint a fantastic sky,
With a couple of crows squawking in the blue
Then a mountain with snow on it top
An’ the sun shining on it
With a little road at the bottom,
Now for a bus stop with a little boy waiting
With his dog on a lead, then a little puddle
For boys love to jump in em’.
Just finished lots of black and white cows
Feeding in this huge green paddock,
With horses frolicking fresh from the stables
Running and kicking chasing, hope I get it right
Better paint a fence near the road an’ add a few sheep.
Now let me see ah....Trees lot of trees green as green
To the left and to the right with birds flying all around,
Oh in the distance near the foot of the mountain
I’ll paint the school bus coming down the road
That boy has been waiting for ages.
I think that’s it, oh I’ll add a couple of butterflies,
No flowers its winters end and
They are still pushing up underground.
Now let’s look at this picture and see
What the mind can see.
poem by Ken e Hall
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The Road/Yes The Road Again
THE ROAD/ YES THE ROAD AGAIN
The road
Yes the road again
To see to feel
The beauty of the new in an ancient landscape-
Green green the trees
And blue the sky
And light the morning world-
The new
the road
The open road again
Who would have believed
I would ever find it again?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sun C/79
Sun is the reason
And the world it will bloom
Cause sun lights the sky
And the sun lights the moon
Sun is the reason
All the happy trees are green
Then who can explain
The light in your dream
Sit you down
Sit you down young gentleman
Theres something I want you to know
You keep on asking me
You keep on asking me why
Why are we here?
It started a long time ago
Me and your mum on the night
Yeh yeh yeh ..we met
I was on the road again
She was in c79
Ill never never forget
Ill never forget that night no..
We met in a back road
Behind the stage
She had the best figure by far
Huh a thousand hours Ive looked at her eyes but i
Still dont know what color they are
Me & your mum on the night
Oh lord. we met
I was on the road again
She was in c79
She was a junkie then
And I was having a good time
Back on the road again
Oh momma I was on the road again
Back in suite 79
Ill never never forget
Ill never forget that time
Back on the road again
Oh Im travelling that line
I was a pop star then
Im still having a good time
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Rural Side Of This World
when i step out of my door
i see a road lined with mahogany trees
an empty wide road
but not that muddy really
at this rainy season of the year
i hear the chirping of birds
and the hushing of the wind
greeting me with the coolness of
an after rain,
the grasses are still wet with dew,
the paths still dappled with water,
the pebbles glistening
to the sunlit view of
the hills which are so green and vibrant
the distant mountains shaded blue
tall and huge their tips almost touching the sky
there are no cars here just wooden sleds
pulled by the cows
of the working men
at the other side of the river nearby
some water buffaloes are restive on
cool wade in their mud holes
their tails whipping their butts
to drive away the gnats
i am waiting for the bus going to the city
the only bus for the day
and it will pass by here at eight.
on the bench opposite where i am seated
three girls are giggling
a handsome boy riding on a horse whistles
at the one with the long black hair
the sun is shining brightly on an ordinary day like this
on the rural side of this world that i have chosen to visit
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ghost Towns Up On The Hill
images remind of ghost towns left abandoned
few trees still fruit among ruins of yesterday
coal seams played out present miners live now
in towns scattered below now road connected
who wants to live in this mist in rain three thousand
feet and more up when the sea begs lapping far shore
upon this strip of coast a ribbon of blue beauty below
watch light dance upon the sea on sunny summer days
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Red Lights
(d. pickerill/p. odonoughue)
You stop on a red light, your life starts again on green
You watch all the colours then fall back into a dream
Theres headlights behind you, they flash out a silver surprise
You go for the hand brake, theres madness behind your eyes
Chorus:
The road goes on for mile and miles
You rush cos you havent got the time
Stop, stop, stop for the red light
Yay, yay, yay is for the green
One, one, one Im on a blue light
Keep your licence clean
He flicks on the amber, a machine gun in all but name
You push down the lever, well, two can play that game
As red lights rush by you theyre vivid and red as blood
The chase makes you feel so good
The road goes on for mile and miles
You rush cos you havent got the time
Dont, dont dont go on a red light
Yay, yay, yay is for the green
One, one, one Im on a blue light
Keep your licence clean
The flash lines are flowing, streaking by so fast
Signposts are flying and grey rain is slanting past
The colours are spinning, a pain on the side of your face
And blackness surrounds you, you finally lost the race
The road goes on for mile and miles
You rush cos you havent got the time
Dont, dont dont go on a red light
Yay, yay, yay wait for the green
One, one, one Im on a blue light
Keep your licence clean
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Call of the Bush
Three roads there are that climb and wind
Amongst the hills, and leave behind
The patterned orchards, sloping down
To meet a little country town.
And of these roads I'll take the one
That tops the ridges, where the sun
Is tempered by the mountain-breeze
And dancing shadows of the trees.
The road is rough - but to my feet
Softer than is the city street;
And then the trees! - how beautiful
She-oak and gum - how fresh and cool!
No walls there are to hamper me;
Only in blue infinity
The distant mountain-ramparts rise
Beneath the broad arch of the skies.
And in that high place I shall hear
The wild birds' singing, soft and clear;
And horse-bells tinkling as of old
In amongst the wattles' gold
Far-off is the ocean tide;
But there across the country-side
Roll waves of bush that rise and fall
To break against the mountain-wall.
And every little farm is seen
An island in a sea of green;
And every little farm at night
Flings through the dark its beacon-light -
There in the silence of the hills,
I shall find peace that soothes and stills
The throbbing of the weary brain, -
For I am going home again.
poem by Dora Wilcox
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Hollywood Nights
Words and music by bob seger
She stood there bright as the sun on that california coast
He was a midwestern boy on his own
She looked at him with those soft eyes,
So innocent and blue
He knew right then he was too far from home he was too far from home
She took his hand and she led him along that golden beach
They watched the waves tumble over the sand
They drove for miles and miles
Up those twisting turning roads
Higher and higher and higher they climbed
And those hollywood nights
In those hollywood hills
She was looking so right
In her diamonds and frills
All those big city nights
In those high rolling hills
Above all the lights
She had all of the skills
Hed headed west cause he felt that a change
Would do him good
See some old friends, good for the soul
She had been born with a face that would her
Get her way
He saw that face and he lost all control
He had lost all control
Night after night, day after day, it went on and on
Then came that morning he woke up alone
He spent all night staring down at the lights of la
Wondering if he could ever go home
And those hollywood nights
In those hollywood hills
It was looking so right
It was giving him chills
In those big city nights
In those high rolling hills
Above all the lights
With a passion that kills
In those hollywood nights
In those hollywood hills
She was looking so right
In her diamonds and frills
All those big city nights
In those high rolling hills
Above all the lights
She had all of the skills
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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a Childrens game?
I see a boy making roads
in the red-brown sand,
where his blue plastic Ranchero pickup
drives up and down
past a mud pond.
There’s a green plastic
roofless Mercedes,
that’s parked in the shade
next to a homestead
of tomato planks.
Small branches stand like popular trees
pressed in a row
in a rectangle,
where a red plastic Massi Furgeson tractor
draws furrows in a line of dust.
When I pass that place years later
a farmer drives around his fields
with his white Toyota pickup,
where popular trees
are rowed in next to the road
and green John Deere tractors
are ploughing
and I see a beautiful blonde woman
with a silver Mercedes SLK
cutting past their big dam
and the road turns away
and I wonder how the house looks
where they live
of which the roof
just edges pass the hillock.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The River & The Highway
(gerry house/don schlitz)
She follows the path of least resistance
She doesnt care to see the mountain top
She twists and turns with no regard to distance
She never comes to a stop
And she rolls, shes a river
Where she goes, time will tell
Heaven knows, he cant go with her
And she rolls, all by herself
All by herself
Hes headed for a single destination
He doesnt care whats standing in his path
Hes a line between two points of separation
He ends just where it says to on the map
And he rolls, hes a highway
Where he goes, time will tell
Heaven knows, she cant go with him
And he rolls, all by himself
All by himself
And every now and then, he offers her a shoulder
And every now and then, she overflows
And every now and then, a bridge crosses over
Its a moment that every lover knows
And she rolls (and he rolls)
Shes a river (hes a highway)
Where she goes (where he goes)
Time will tell (time will tell)
Heaven knows she cant go with him (he cant go with her)
And she rolls all by herself
And he rolls all by himself
Fare thee well
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bright Lights
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
As the world is round, the road is long
Ive trouble on my mind
Ill just keep on moving
Until the day comes round
The wind a blowing on my back
And my feet a flying
Flying down the road
Where the bright lights shine
Mondays in a pigtown
Tuesdays in a truck
Wednesdays a field of mud
And thursdays out of luck
Fridays rain clouds
Saturday flies by
Sunday comes shining
From a blue blue sky
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some towns are golden
Some towns are stained
Some towns are shadows
Fading in the rain
Some towns are rust
And some towns they gleam
Some towns are mad dogs
Some towns are a dream
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
Some dreams are hollow
Some dreams are cold
Some dreams are crazy
And some dreams are bold
Some dreams are bought
And other dreams are sold
Some dreams lie waiting
At the end of the road
The bright lights are calling me
The bright lights are calling me
When the world is dark and cold
And Im heading down the road
The bright lights are calling me
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somethings On The Move
She wore a black tiara
Rare gems upon her fingers
And she came from distant waters
Where northern lights explode
To celebrate the dawning
Of the new wastes of winter
Gathering royal momentum
On the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
Like petticoats in motion
Sighted on horizons
For ten thousand years
The lady of the ice sounds
A deathly distant rumble
To titanic-breaking children lost
In melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
In a glass-fronted museum
The white queen rolls
On the chessboard of the dawn
Squeezing through the valleys
Pausing briefly in the corries
The ice-mother mates
And a new age is born.
Driving all before her
Un-stoppable, un-straining
Her cold creaking mass
Follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
To embrace the sill-warm bundles
That huddle on the doorsteps
Of a white london town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
Im a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
As the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
Somethings on the move.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Missing those old times
moon
sun stars
clouds
trees
seas lakes
hills
are these all
that you can say?
there are those that
must be given: light, mist, waves,
depths, rolling
green
hanging cottons
we sometimes need to feel
what movements they have
drifting, wavering,
dive, thunder, lightning
softness of blue
softness of silk,
coldness of rain
and then let us move somewhere
into hands holding
our bodies side by side
against the coldness of the
ground and rocks
it is the intimacy that we lack
the sticky wetness
that we have forgotten
the entanglement of
lovely thoughts
the odor of dreams
the sweetness of our tongues
bones and cartilage
cinnamon and vanilla
sauce and pineapples
sugar and salt and the bitterness
of some herbs
all these ingredients
of life
they all make us whole again
not just stars and sun and moon
and sky
it is when we lie on the grass again
to see the maps of stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Day's Plans Go Awry
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The tears that God must cry.
'Hey Mom, what's rain, what makes it fall? '
Asked Zachary, sincere.
'When will it stop, will it at all?
I can't be stuck in here.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
As God begins to cry.
'It's God's tears, my son, he must weep,
For all of us on earth.
The pain we feel, we cannot keep,
Ourselves alone from birth.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
For our pain God must cry.
'But Mom, God's cried, every day,
He must be getting weak.
Tell him to laugh, that's what I'd say,
And try that for a week.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
Why do we make him cry?
'But ah, my son, you do not know,
How much hurt God has felt.
So our Father, he has to show,
Us what our pain has dealt.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry.
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
God doesn't want to cry.
'So Mom, then why, do we hurt God?
How can we be so bad?
Why do we hurt each other too?
We know it makes him sad.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The tears that God must cry.
poem by Steven Rodgers
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Just After Rain
just after rain
when the water lies hesitant and pure
on the roads and footpaths
and a few cars still have their lights on
just after rain
when the frontyard trees sweat the last drops
from their chlorophyll brows
and the air is promise-crammed and light
and there are apparently more towers
in the distant city-centre than before
just after rain
when the pets emerge from under houses
and overlong browsers from within shops...
just after rain
we breathe in deeply and effortlessly
we enjoy watching where we put our feet
as we jaunt home
just after rain
there is no other time that is not
just after rain
poem by Ross Clark
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Night was coming
Night was coming
with a piercing huge orange sun
breaking through
white and black clouds
in the west.
It found a gap
and the sun was hanging
like a orange ball
above the street
and it was blinding.
Cars passed barely visible
above the orange glare
and some had already
turned their lights on.
The sun dipped down
below some trees
and for a time
it glowed behind them
and soon it would be dark
and the first stars
were already appearing
and a full yellow moon
was rising,
but below bright lights
was already burning
right across the city
in colours of amber
streetlights
green, yellow and red
traffic lights,
blue lights flashing
on police cars
and almost every bright colour
caught on neon signs
while people came and went
to different destinations
some smiling and relaxed,
others in a hurry
and some others
locked in a world of their own.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Route 66
LA to Chicago
eight state snake
the road not traveled
any more
Wind Wing Widows
orphans to time
passing lanes
sights, sounds, signs
road, motels, cafes
lost to memory
cracked black asphalt
white flight concrete
ribboned heaves
heat wave weaves
lines ride white hot
Silver Shadow
Rolls no longer
Merging lanes and Chevy dreams
Fords no longer scream
down route 66
Flagstaff arid breezes belch
neon burps:
“Blue Swallow Motel
100% Refrigerated Air
Vacancy, TV”
Whiting Brothers
Phillips 66
while tires sing
desert songs:
“Burma Shave”
“Last Chance for Gas”
somewhere my America
tumbled
weed like rolling
Left blinker on
turning Right.
poem by Astral Shepherd
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The Pirate's Bride
Sometimes in the light at the edge of the world
Is the ghost of a ship with it's black sail furled
And night after night she would stand on the shore
And dream of the love that she knew before
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a thought for the ways of men
We set sail for the Spanish Main
To rob the ships of the Queen of Spain
And she would be his pirate's bride
She gave him the pistol and the sword at his side
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
I'd give three ships of Spanish gold
To see my love again
Full fathom five my true love lies
In a fine wooden casket with gold on his eyes
Where is the glory and where is the pride?
Where is the joy for the pirate's bride?
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
Here in the light at the edge of the world
He'd wait for a ship with it's black sail furled
And day after day he would stand on the shore
And dream of the life that they knew before
The tide rolls out, the tide rolls in
Without a care for the ways of men
I'd give three ships of Spanish gold
To see my love again
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Among the Trees
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for the one my heart calls for
I wonder lost among the trees
I see your light amongst the dark
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is brighter then the rest
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is out of my reach
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light comes closer
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light is bright like an angel from the sky
I wonder lost among the trees
Your light fades away and leaves me alone
I wonder lost among the trees
Without a hand to guide the way
I wonder lost among the trees
Looking for my guiding light
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost, alone
I wonder afraid of the world
Around me I look for the one
I wonder lost among the trees
I wonder lost and alone forever...................................
poem by kelly Martini
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