2017 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 10

And just. Like. That. We’re on Day 10 of this challenge. One third of the way through and after today, a baseline of at least 10 poems. Let’s write.

For today’s prompt, write a going somewhere poem. Where is the poem going? And who is traveling along? Or what? And why? Don’t know; it’s up to you and your poem to enlighten us.

*****

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Click to continue.

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Here’s my attempt at a Going Somewhere Poem:

“Whether by boat or by train”

Whether by boat or by train,
she never leaves me alone.
Even though I’m always gone,
she echoes around my brain.
Whether by car or by plane,
I’m the one who’s never there–
always, I’m going somewhere–
and it can drive me insane,
because there’s nowhere to be
that’s better than in her arms.
Whether by boat or by train,
there’s nobody else to see
or who I would rather charm
than the ghost inside my brain.

*****

Robert Lee Brewer

Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of the poetry collection, Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He edits Poet’s Market and Writer’s Market, in addition to writing a free weekly WritersMarket.com newsletter and a poetry column for Writer’s Digest magazine.

He’s a bit of a homebody, but he prefers traveling by car when he does have to travel. Nothing against boats, planes, or trains, but he prefers to be behind the wheel, especially when driving down new roads.

Follow him on Twitter @robertleebrewer.

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257 thoughts on “2017 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 10

  1. Valkyri

    Another “work in progress”

    Going Somewhere?

    I run all the time
    from the ShadowMan.
    He is me and me is he.
    I run as fast as my little legs can carry me.
    But he catches up to me, every time.
    I can never escape the ShadowMan.
    I will never run far enough, nor fast enough,
    to flee the dark shadow-side of me.

  2. MET

    Journey through the Country of Grief

    We all make this journey…
    A journey we do not want…
    Into what seems a vast wasteland
    Frozen and still.

    Emotions erupt like volcanos…
    Questions asked with no answers…
    Emotions move glacier slow…
    Emotions strike like lightening.
    In a crowd there is emptiness;
    In a crowd there is no belonging.
    On the floor sentiments lay
    A broken mug and splattered coffee;
    No use to anyone.
    Just something more to clean up.

    The horizon, a mirage,
    Outlying beyond our view…
    However,
    There is a light…
    Light of a blue crystal…
    Hope…

    Hope the windbreak…
    That kept you believing
    Until your soul could suffer the pain.
    Hope the cornerstone…
    Of rebuilding your shattered life
    Stone by stone, day by day.
    Hope the crystal light
    That guided you on the dark days
    Across fields of mines, and
    Safely made you strong.

    It is not that you will find closure;
    That story is a lie.
    In the jumble of emotions,
    Perspective will evolve…
    Forgiveness will be given, and
    The weight of guilt carried…
    Then tossed away.
    Grasp the understanding
    Of empathy-
    Kindness
    Which journeyed with you
    Though you were blind
    And could not see.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 10, 2017

  3. Walter J Wojtanik

    FUNKYTOWN

    Let me take you there,
    let me take you somewhere.
    Let me take you to the fresh air,
    let me take you anywhere you care.
    Let me take you, do you dare?
    Let me take you to the fair,
    let me take you to style your hair.
    Let me take you someplace rare,
    let me take you everywhere.
    Let me take you.
    Funkytown.

  4. Walter J Wojtanik

    THE RIVER GOES SOMEWHERE

    And it goes on and on, oh, watching the river run,
    Further and further from things that we’ve done,
    Leaving them one by one.
    And we have just begun watching the river run.
    Listening and learning and yearning.
    Run, river, run.

    ~ “Watching the River Run” – Lyric by Kenny Loggins

    Life is a river.
    Cut into the world
    swirled through valley
    and dale; pastures
    and disasters; ever-flowing.
    Going along between the banks,
    charted. Going somewhere.
    Finding a fissure,
    it branches and chances
    to break free, new adventures
    to explore. Going on and on.
    Going somewhere,
    leaving our past on a fast
    current; leaving memories
    in our wake. Forsaking all else,
    Watch how it goes.
    Going somewhere.
    Watch how it flows.
    Going everywhere.
    Listening
    and yearning
    to learn all we can.
    Life goes on and on.
    Run, river, run!

  5. MichelleMcEwen

    State Line

    I wonder
    if there is a word
    for the feeling
    of being on the road
    in the backseat
    with your sisters
    who are fast asleep
    just like mama in the passenger seat
    but you— you are wide awake
    and daddy is at the wheel
    crossing over into the next state

    1. Marie Elena

      DOGGONE SITE! I’ve tried several times to comment on this poem, and it won’t let me. Plus the site has caused problems for me all month, jumping around as I try to read or type. UGH! Okay … but now I realize why it won’t let me post my comment. It’s because it contained a word deemed offensive by the powers-that-be. I’ll have to try to say what I want without using specific words, but I think you’ll get my point.

      This poem is terrific, and well done. But my mind went to a dark place, due to what a friend of mine experienced as a child. She battles PTSD, due to things this site won’t let me mention. Anyway, I’m thankful that apparently that was my own dark misinterpretation, and your memories are innocent childhood memories.

      And you know I love your writing. And I miss Missy this month.

  6. MET

    Step out my door

    There is a journey to make….
    An adventure waiting…
    It is all in perspective…
    Others may see a trip
    To buy groceries…
    I see possibilities, and
    I like possibilities.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 10, 2017

      1. MET

        in attempting to simplify my life… I started with stop looking at the big things the wow things and look to what is there with me every day… glad you saw that…

  7. MET

    I miss the Saturday rides
    To see the colors of fall
    On the Blue Ridge Parkway…
    It was your road in many ways…
    Just no one knew it.

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 10, 2017

  8. MET

    Road Trip

    Nancy and I would
    Grab the keys, and
    The car book, and a cup of coffee
    And off we would go.
    We left the office by nine and would be back
    Thirteen hours later.
    Ten homes to visit that day…
    Did it last month, and
    Will do it the next.
    From Anderson to Lancaster
    We would travel that day.
    Some homes were her homes
    To see and some were mine,
    And sometimes we both had
    Foster children in the same home.
    We discussed the problems,
    And gave each other solutions…
    It was a good team.
    I drove sometimes…
    She drove others…
    We talked of our lives…
    We laughed and sometimes cried.
    Each home we visited
    We loved the children we saw.
    One time we rescued
    A cat… and Nancy took her home.
    We would stop to have dinner,
    And sometimes we were serious,
    But sometimes when Nancy got tired
    She got silly and so silly we would be.
    We would pull into the parking lot, and
    One of us would deliver the keys,
    Car book for whomever
    Would need it next.
    Since often it was a Friday…
    We had the weekend to recover.

    I helped her to move to Alabama
    Along with her cats including
    The one we rescued…
    She came back for my retirement and
    My mother’s funeral.
    Our friendship grew
    While we were on those road trips…
    I somehow became her sister and
    She became Nancy from Alabama.

    I can still see her poking her head
    Into my office… asking
    Are you ready for a road trip?

    Mary Elizabeth Todd
    November 10, 2017

  9. PowerUnit

    I watched you walk down your own road
    searching for solitude to drop your load
    someplace to hide your hopes and dreams.
    You turned into the thick woods
    onto a path leading nowhere good
    to a clearing with a pond with no fish.
    But I knew you’d be okay,
    you’ve always found it the hard way,
    your choice is the only voice that matters.
    I sat on the porch sipping my beer
    waiting for the result of your battle with fear
    It was a long, lonely afternoon.

    You called last night to tell of your raise
    I am happier that you still call us.

  10. Holly

    Flight One

    Around the world on Pan Am flight One
    You could circle the earth in two days
    Flying into the morning sun.
    Around the world on Pan Am flight One
    All the way back to where you’d begun
    Or racing the sun—are there other ways?
    Around the world on Pan Am flight One
    You could circle the earth in two days.

    You could circle the earth in two days
    –but let’s stop.
    Hawaii would offer a fragrance of leis.
    You could circle the earth in two days:
    Bangkok and Delhi, Beirut the next phase
    Istanbul, Frankfurt, London to shop.
    You could circle the earth in two days
    –but let’s stop.

  11. Shennon

    Dressing the part.
    Slipping black silk
    over my shoulders.
    Smoothing the blouse
    where it settles
    atop the itchy,
    black, wool skirt.
    Sheer black tights
    hug my calves,
    but offer no warmth
    against November chill.
    Practical black heels
    offer scant support
    on cemetery paths.
    A dark, overcast mood
    mirrors the weather
    and completes my ensemble.
    The future –
    a black hole of nothing without you.

    –ShennonDoah

  12. KM

    10.
    I woke up believing that time travel was possible, but only backward. A chunk of memory, pulled out and placed in a snow globe, but don’t shake it too hard. Does a memory darken when you view it too many times? Smudged, like a window at the zoo, because everyone wants to get nose-to-nose with a tiger. Visited too often, does a memory change, shift colours in certain lights, or curl at the edges? I woke up thinking of Marty McFly, going back — no, really, physically back — to the precursor to his being. What a dangerous place to be, the before. Consequences of every possible outcome compressing your brain. You going somewhere? Yeah, whether we want to or not. And hey hey, just like Jay sings, I know all we’re doing is travelling without moving. The body doesn’t have to go to enjoy the slick hook, the synth-fueled ride. The mind catches the beat, dances us behind the curtain, into the dim-lit back room.

    – Kim Mannix
    http://www.makesmesodigress.com

  13. Kiri

    THE LONGEST TRIP

    Progress is measured

    in milligrams and months,
    plummeting numbers
    on depression screening scores
    and glorious, pinkish
    orange euphoria mornings
    the color of fading
    self-harm scars
    and prescription bottle plastic.

    1. KM

      There is some serious depth in here, KIri. Something I imagine is so hard to write and capture in a few words and you’ve done it. I especially love “pinkish orange euphoria mornings”

  14. rlk67

    Nov. the Tenth

    To reach your destination,
    you must have THE END in mind.
    Just imagine that you’re dead (‘I’m dead?!’)
    They both are intertwined.

    Your family is crying,
    The air is damp and gray.
    Soon they will arise and speak,
    What will you hope they say?

    Those words should be your guiding light,
    Your morals are precise,
    Now embark on your new journey,
    You will never do this twice.

  15. thunk2much

    Out the window

    Galloping, galloping
    faster than the wind
    I rode my dapple-grey
    (although some days
    she was brown)
    across golden fields
    and through thick forests,
    my face burning
    from wind and thrill
    as we raced to keep up
    (and we always kept up,
    we could not be beat)
    with the green Chevy Impala
    that carried my family
    and towed our camper
    from state to state
    that summer.

  16. taylor graham

    THROUGH WINDOWS OF TIME
    a photo-print of Main Street, 1908

    The horses: hitched and waiting on the street
    (unpaved back then). In this old print they stay
    still, going nowhere. Ridgetop pines repeat

    window-reflected – the pines of today –
    haunting streets ever pushing for new ground.
    Unpaved back then, in this old print. They stay

    (the horses) inked on paper someone found
    in city archives with the ghosts that wait,
    haunting streets ever pushing for new ground.

    I’m passing by the shop doors – history’s gates.
    A window dressed with Gold Rush memories.
    In city archives, with the ghosts that wait

    their place – but how the old familiar flees!
    A GPS with gold-pans on display –
    a window dressed with Gold Rush memories.

    The stores are opening for Saturday,
    the horses hitched and waiting on the street.
    A GPS – with gold-pans on display –
    still going nowhere. Ridgetop pines repeat.

  17. Anthony94

    Who’s to Say

    Is it the going
    or the somewhere

    the journey
    or the destination

    the leaf’s tumbling
    from the tree

    or its peculiar lodging
    in the shafts of the zebra

    grass below the gardens
    only to curl in all of its yellow

    splendor into a shaft for
    rain to slide down as drops

    fall from leaden skies
    to pool between the cracks

    Who’s to say if it’s picking
    the foot up or putting it

    down, parting the air
    or treading the earth

    in the going or the
    getting somewhere.

  18. deringer1

    We’re Going Somewhere

    What an adventure is growing older!
    It can make you cringe or make you bolder.
    Some days it feels like spinning your wheels,
    some days it’s all about how you feel.

    So where is it that all the years are going?
    Do we travel to peace where love is flowing?
    or is the journey to end in fear?
    It isn’t always totally clear.

    So try to accept all the limitations
    and know that the past is over and done.
    There’s life ahead if only we’ll try
    to find some joy in each day flying by.

  19. annell

    The Journey to Somewhere

    the fool begins his journey     destination unknown     red sky in morning

    sailors warning    this morning sky red     the world tinted pink

    as if colored by children     out of the lines    a free exploration

    over time     the journey     includes camels & horses

    cars, planes, & trains     &… the spice trade    the desert stretches

    in all directions     compass securely in my pocket     i am prepared

    mountains rise    like far pavilions    frank waters

    writes in his book     at the turn of the century     people came to the west

    aboard the train     they saw pike’s peak     judged it to be close

    they thought they could     walk there     before lunch

    distance in the desert     can deceive    as the sun rises

    temperatures rise      people get lost      people die in the desert

    November 10, 2017

    1. Marie Elena

      My friend, as I said on FB, this is one of the most amazing poems I have ever read. This is a full story with history, background, leaving, what happened there, how the country felt about our being there in the first place, returning home, the pain, the feelings … I’m utterly blown away.

  20. Jezzie

    GOING NOWHERE GOING SOMEWHERE

    “I’m going somewhere different by bus today.
    I’ll walk the dog early then go there come what may.”
    That’s plan A for me…

    Living here, that’s not as easy as it may sound
    with a two-hourly bus and a difficult hound.
    Move on to plan B…

    “I will drive somewhere by car, it needs a good run.”
    Car will not start. I lose heart of having some fun.
    Think of a plan C…

    “I’ll munch a quick lunch then go for a clifftop walk.”
    A salesman comes to call, another rings to talk.
    Soon it’s time for tea…

    Where on earth did today go?
    I’ll try again tomorrow.

  21. Walter J Wojtanik

    DESTINY BRINGS ME SOMEWHERE

    I go somewhere near the shore to stand in that place where our passions had ignited. It was right here, somewhere around midnight with the bright moon exploding in liquid shrapnel upon the lake. My one mistake was not bringing you here sooner. The lunar luminescence made our hearts dance and visions of lips openly pressed in love’s hunger make me long for your shadow to return. Heartache burns singeing my soul, and offering this fire no fuel, and yet it smolders.

    The gulls take a turn toward the water, leeching their multitudes away to disturb my peaceful solitude. I’ve viewed their escape many times since you’ve gone. I’ve asked them to take me away with them, to free my soul as well. But they tell me in their raucous refrain, my footsteps are to remain to leave their stain on this place. I am destined to return as long as I remember your face, this place and our unquenchable fire.

    horizons beckon
    calling me to remember
    your glow of love

  22. Connie Peters

    Going Somewhere

    G randiose expectations
    O pen dreaming
    I magining the best
    N ever thinking the worst
    G oing

    S omewhere
    O nline scheming
    M ay be the best trip yet
    E ntering numbers
    W ardrobe lacking
    H aving fun shopping
    E merging with bargains
    R eservations, tickets, schedule
    E verything is in place. Hawaii, here we come.

  23. Walter J Wojtanik

    SOMEWHERE IN DARKNESS

    Somewhere in darkness, hearts at rest find each other all alone at night.
    Hearts that yearn for love become the vessels we sail to land on love’s shore.
    Discoveries made invade like a conqueror, surrender your self.
    New sensations come filling your soul with wonder, under true love’s spell.
    Tell her she brings light to supplant all this darkness; her candle burns bright.
    It is that dark night that brings her brilliance to bear. She is your warm sun.
    You embrace her there, filling her with heartfelt joy. You are her bright moon!
    Soon darkness will fade. Life’s serenade plays within. Come sing life’s love song!

    **Written entirely with Monoku – one line haiku / senryu

  24. Eileen S

    Cowboys of the Beltway

    Whoa! Stop passing me so fast, you cowboys of the Beltway
    What scare you’re giving me from Falls Church to Bethesda.

    Ford Bronco, riding on my tailgate I you’re quite a bit of fun
    as you weave in and out of traffic, my view blocked by blinding sun.
    Have mercy on me, I only want to find the exit at New Carrollton.

    Congress says the inner loop goes clockwise, the outer loop the other way.
    The unbridled traffic of the Beltway, positively spoils my day.
    In ask myself “Do I really need to commute to Virgin-i-a?”

    My hands grip the steering wheel, my knuckles white as snow.
    Dare I look in the rear-view mirror or do I really need to know.
    The highway of our nation’s capital seems more like a rodeo.

    As an SUV zooms past me, then a sports car stops short
    As panel truck follows close behind me, a Lincoln cuts me off
    All of us heading toward the Wilson bridge and its usual gridlock.

    An Outback hits a Rodeo, the crash has everyone in a trance.
    A big rig truck picks up his cell phone to summon an ambulance
    Can Metro police maintain order during this beltway disturbance?

    Whoa! Stop passing me so fast, you cowboys of the Beltway
    What scare you’re giving me from Falls Church to Bethesda.

      1. tripoet

        Yes, Just happened to my friend this week. We are grateful that he is making time to say goodbye to each of us. He is a really kind and good person. Rare cancer attacking his system. 🙁

  25. Linowen

    A Cowboy Says Good-By
    (Grab Yer Guitar an’ Sang)

    Worst Verse 1:
    I’m goin’ somewhere, my darlin’,
    goin’ somewhere too soon….
    ridin’ Ole Silver by the light o’ the moon.
    I would stay here an’ hold you,
    but the trail’s sayin’ no,
    ‘cause I gotta be goin’
    goin’ somewhere alone.

    Chorus:
    Oh, I’m ridin’ away.
    You have my heart now,
    but you know I can’t stay.
    …‘gotta lasso a cow.

    Worst Verse 2:
    I’m goin’ somewhere, my darlin’,
    goin’ far west south west.
    The coyotes are howlin’
    and the sun is at rest,
    but duty is callin’,
    so as stars shine above
    I’m goin’ somewhere, my darlin’.
    Fergive me, my Love.

    Chorus Schmorus:
    Oh, I’m ridin’ away.
    You have my heart now,
    but you know I can’t stay.
    …‘gotta lasso a cow.

  26. Kiri

    MAUSOLEUM

    If you can go home
    
don’t.
    everything has changed
    and you are not the way
    you left it.
    everyone who stayed
    makes their own toast
    in the morning
    loves the dog
    that replaced you
    more each day
    settled on a constant thermostat
    setting, falls asleep
    by 8:30 and you are left
    in the dark and quiet
    of having grown
    past being needed.

  27. Kay Butzin

    WAKE-UP CALL

    This morning I heard
    a Great Blue Heron,
    its unmistakable squawk
    a symphony to my ears

    unaccustomed to the absence
    of birdsong outside my window
    since the music blew away
    on Harvey’s Category 4 winds

    eleven weeks ago today

  28. dittman

    I missed yesterday (but cached away the poem that didn’t come to fruition as an idea for later). As I’m finishing a house project, this one came pretty easily.

    Freeway. For Amy

    Stop here, make plans to buy an old house
    overlooking a dam. We’ve outrun our ghosts,
    or maybe they just took the wrong exit.
    We’ll peel back the carpet like a scab
    from a knee, looking at scars, scuffs and cigarette
    burns, and buff it into a dance floor.
    We’ll foxtrot after dinner, ignoring
    the urgency of stability.
    At night our hipbones will butt and leave
    freeways of bruises across the map
    of our newly young skin.
    In the morning, my legs will throb with exhaustion.

    Take a breath. You can taste the sea, separated
    from us by our levee. This is the true becoming-
    a vacation of becoming ourselves.
    Later, we can send postcards to friends.
    But for now, let me stop, touch the floor,
    count the cracks in the plaster and kiss you.

    Breeze right in as dawn breaks into
    our new place without knocking. A
    better, stronger man would write love poems.
    Instead, I’ll fill up my head with stories
    and write them down for you. I begin today.

  29. pipersfancy

    Unexpected Destination

    As a girl growing up
    in a comfortable home
    with a mother who believed
    a night in a Super 8
    was “roughing it”,
    it surprised everyone
    when I chose to go North
    and now, waking up
    to the first blizzard
    of the season—
    here I am— wrapped up
    in my flannels
    with deer skin moccasins
    on my feet.
    North of 60.

  30. AsWritten

    TRAVEL BACK IN TIME by Ken Bentz

    The ripples are real,
    how today and yesterday are twins,
    if not for time.

    Think about all the things
    you’ve said that haunt you.

    The day has changed,
    but the words remain.

    If not for time,
    you’d still be saying them.

  31. Terry Jude Miller

    Temple of the Soul’s Retreat
    by Terry Jude Miller

    I am going there
    where I will climb
    the stairs

    to find the boy
    who knew everything
    worth knowing
    at the age of six

    I will place coins
    in arm-less beggars’ bowls
    seek and give blessings
    in the exchange

    and find someway
    to forget the long journey
    that took me
    from this place

    there is only today
    there is no other way
    to find final peace

  32. Misky

    Navidad en Bogotá

    We bought a cheap suitcase at Poundland.
    It’s a cavernous monster. Burgundy colour,
    which I suspect will bleed like beetroot
    all over everything at the first hint of rain,

    but no worries because we and it
    are heading to Bogotá next month,
    and although it can tip down rain there,
    it’s an La Niña year so we can safely

    leave our life jackets and umbrellas
    at home. And the suitcase: we’re filling it
    with baby clothes and pram accessories
    and nappies and little this-and-that things

    because, yes, you might have guessed,
    there’s a new baby arriving in the family.

  33. Walter J Wojtanik

    GLOBAL POSITIONING SANTA

    I’ve made it all around the world countless times,
    and I’m pretty sure we know where Sri Lanka is.
    Our ebb and flow goes where the reindeer lead,
    and we don’t need electronic devices to guide us.
    They do not provide us any benefit, and yet
    our flight lasts the night and we make it alright.
    We are traditionally star guided perhaps, but any lapse
    in itinerary needs nary a course correction in any direction.
    Hey, we’ve been doing this for centuries
    so I think we have this thing down pat!
    So excuse me any in-flight faux pas,
    remember, I am (only human), Santa Claus!

  34. RJ Clarken

    Teetering in the Unknown

    “Travel is about the gorgeous feeling of teetering in the unknown.” – Gaby Basora

    Come with me. Who knows where we’ll end up.
    Maybe we’ll just keep going.
    The point is to go. Never say no.
    Teetering, but never plateauing.

    Come with me, and let’s share adventure.
    We’ll discover the unknown.
    Never say no. The point is to go.
    The world is our oyster, our touchstone.

    That road less traveled may be gorgeous.
    But we won’t know ‘til we try.
    The point is to go. Never say no
    since it’s up to us to verify.

    So, come with me, my boon companion.
    Let’s ramble, teeter and weave.
    Never say no. The point is to go:
    Life’s beyond what we can but conceive.

    ###

  35. Linda Rhinehart Neas

    Odysseys of Survival

    Life’s journeys are multifaceted.
    Some are quick trips of heart and soul
    where inspiration whispers by tranquil seas
    and along mountain paths.

    There are explorations of the unknown –
    safaris of scientific discovery or
    quests into inner workings
    where mystery and magic combine.

    There are journeys that take a lifetime –
    epics of pain and glory
    that create the tales of heroes,
    real or imagined, for others to follow.

    But, the immigration of souls
    away from fear, hate and sorrow,
    into lands of adoption and hope –
    are extreme odysseys of survival.

  36. Pat Walsh

    going somewhere
    by Patrick J. Walsh

    through the
    window of the cab
    on the way to
    the theater
    in the rain
    he saw them forming
    shapes from shadow

    and later when the film
    began to lead him on
    still he stopped
    to wonder
    where they went
    when the rain
    washed the night away

  37. Walter J Wojtanik

    GOING SOMEWHERE

    Creative souls, all, and delighted to be among them.
    We spend each day slaving over a hot rhyme,
    and eventually turning it into a poem.
    Creative souls, all, and delighted to be among them.
    Some loving, some smart, some duds and gems,
    drafts of better things if we give them some time!
    Creative souls, all, and delighted to be among them.
    We spend each day slaving over a hot rhyme,

    1. De Jackson

      A Trip to the Poem Café

      We spend each day slaving over a hot rhyme;
      we’ll serve it with a side of rhythm, and blues.
      Alliteration’s available, if you’ll deem a dime.
      Yes, we spend each day slaving over a hot rhyme.
      We’ll flip you a free verse, you’ll like it just fine –
      or a triolet, pantoum, ode or haiku.
      We spend each day slaving over a hot rhyme;
      we’ll serve it with a side of rhythm, and blues.

      1. Walter J Wojtanik

        LATTE TO GO

        We serve it with a side of rhythm and blues,
        and just enough foam to tickle you nose.
        Any concoction that you choose,
        we’ll serve it with a side of rhythm, and blues.
        At our café you can never lose,
        for you see, we never close!
        We serve it with a side of rhythm and blues.
        And enough foam to tickle you nose.

        1. De Jackson

          Heading to the Ocean {Never Coming Home}

          There’s just enough foam to tickle your nose
          when you dive in right from the shore.
          Where the salt heals, and the breeze blows,
          there’s just enough foam to tickle your nose
          and plenty of hope to soothe your soul.
          Dive in, breathe deep, and come back for more.
          There’s just enough foam to tickle your nose
          when you dive in right from the shore.

          1. Walter J Wojtanik

            TAKING THE PLUNGE

            Be careful when you dive in right from the shore.
            You never really know what’s below the surface.
            There could be jagged rocks and driftwood. Once more,
            be careful when you dive in right from the shore.
            You could break your neck on the ocean’s floor
            so be sure take precautions just in case.
            Be careful when you dive in right from the shore.
            You never really know what’s below the surface.

  38. Melanie

    New Adventures

    Broad sky above her
    Peppered with stars.
    A road winding northwards
    Empty of cars.

    Uprooted and moving
    To pastures unknown.
    Friends left behind her
    Feeling alone.

    She traces the patterns
    Of stars in the sky,
    Fixed in their places
    Shining so high.

    Some things are certain
    They always will be;
    Like sunrise and sunset
    And tides of the sea.

    God never changes,
    This much she knows.
    Fixed to this truth
    Onward she goes.

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