Figureless and frowzy Sleeping by (the side of) the road In and out of wakefulness Waiting an outstretched thumb a hitchhiker in the wrong galaxy. This is no Kerouac "On the Road" No way to jump a freight train through the Dust Bowl. We don't take kindly to strangers passing through our parts. A blind eye on the misfortunate. Once, it was easier or so they say Pack your knapsack, grab your bedroll Catch a ride on the back of an old Ford or Chevy Watch the miles roll on by Sleep under the stars. Make some pocket change by doing odd jobs before the time of applications, mandatory social security numbers, resumes, references When a day of hard labor might earn you a meal and a shed for overnight shelter and see you gone at dawn. Was it this way? Loose borders, less questions Take a name, not a number Sail the seas, pick a port Hike on. I don't know. I was born long after those attainable aimless days. Weary traveling wanderer by the side of the road Where's your destination? Back in time? Or forward into tomorrow's unwritten exposition? How will you get there If no one trusts enough to extend a hand or a ride or a dime to your journey?
Take the last train And catch me by bullet plane The wind whispers, "tonight, tonight, tonight" My suitcase full of Instances of your love My heart lulls, "make it right." That flaunty spring breeze Plays peek-a-boo with the trees My forehead cold against the glass How it separates us still Distance holds us against our will Time crawls on so slowly past. We weather our showers Our struggles for power Seeking more, yet time for less Divine Inspiration No time for anticipation The soul just one big mess. So take the last train And meet me unrestrained Open and real and free We'll ride on through dawn Eternity and beyond Together - just you and me Together - on this amazing and wild journey.
© 2012-2013 SincerelyLori.com
All rights reserved.
You’re leaving today
On an aeroplane sling shot
Aimed for the galaxy
Train ride through the countryside wasteland
Of forgotten dreams.
We all freeze
Here in the in-between of your comings and goings
I remember the last time you left
And all the changes that followed
Just like you said they would.
Seer? Wizard? Comical mystic?
I know not of your unearthly powers of observation
Your ability to deduce illusions for the smoke-and-mirror tricks that they really are
I often wonder what has you fooled
Into the great unknown
I wish you joy.