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?
Tag Archives: travel
Life’s Ride
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.
Springtime Leap
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
If anything.
You’re off
Into the great unknown
And I
I wish you joy.
