Do you like to travel? I've been doing a lot of obligatory travel lately and it's not nearly as much fun as long-planned and awaited trip. It's also not as much fun as an impromptu day trip.
I was at a conference last week and I'm leaving again this week to visit my Mom. The former will be much more enjoyable than the later. In any case, travel is on my mind. Whether by car, train, plane, boat, or any other form, hitting the road can be exciting. No matter what happens, travel is always bound to be interesting.
So while this is on my mind, let's write about hitting the road this week. I may even write my own poem while making my way home. Leave me a note about your poem and I'll share the results in time for Poetry Friday.
By the way, last week the challenge was to write personal ad poetry. The results were a lot of fun, so do stop by and check them out.
This is an older poem that I've been revising for a collection, so being on the road and the things we encounter there are fresh in my mind:
ReplyDeleteBroken Bridge
By Steven Withrow
Between commutes, night workers
Houdini’d a two-lane overpass,
leaving steel-studded supports
bookending the old post road:
totems, tomes, magician’s lore,
a sleight of civil engineering
conjured wholly out of place,
span of vanished expectation,
as though driving through a novel
and slamming, mid-sentence, into
ellipsis ... blank caesura
of a chapter break ... cliffhang-
ing, trestle-robbing business,
no job for the fading, feint
of heart—this morning, are those
hard-hatted daysleepers dreaming
of dawn’s interpolation
in night’s rhythm of wreck and rest,
or are they too done in by toil
to presto forth illusions
on the disappearing scrim of sleep?
Here's a revision of a poem I wrote earlier this year...
ReplyDeleteTraveling North
yellow daisies
line the tracks,
sunny pinpoints,
smiling back.
whistle blowing,
engine fast,
yellow daisies
sailing past.
maples rim
the river’s mouth,
slender fingers,
pointing south.
frilly caps of
Queen Anne’s lace,
crown the hills
with bridal grace.
you and I
sit side by side
as this showy
world drifts by—
we hold hands,
and bow our heads,
pray this journey
never ends.
(c) jgk 2012
http://www.facebook.com/juliekrantzbooks
This poem keeps getting better and better, Steven. Pithy, complex, image-and-language rich! Julie
ReplyDeleteThanks, Julie.
DeleteNext week I'll try to write something cheerful! But not today. This happened last week.
ReplyDeleteTraffic Jam
Stuck in traffic where there’s usually none:
takes an hour to go four miles.
Two men get out of their cars and talk.
We move again, crawling past sunflowers.
I write poems, supporting a scrap of paper
I found in my purse on the steering wheel.
Call my friend to complain. Watch
the sky brighten, the lights coming up.
Finally we reach the show—a street sweeper
gathers glass on the edge of the freeway
like an old man in a Mary Poppins park.
The truck is being towed, the last
of three that crashed. Only five cop cars left.
The ambulances are gone, taking their sirens
with them like noisemakers after a party.
The morning falls still. I’m late for work now.
Someone is dead. Someone is dead.
—Kate Coombs
Sad poem--but nice metaphors, Kate.
DeleteWow...I could tell where the ending was going, but when I got there, it still hit me.
DeleteThat echoing last line. Wow.
DeleteHere's a revision of a 'road' poem I wrote earlier this year...
ReplyDeleteTraveling North
yellow daisies
line the tracks,
sunny pinpoints,
smiling back.
whistle blowing,
engine fast,
yellow daisies
sailing past.
maples rim
the river’s mouth,
slender fingers,
pointing south.
frilly caps of
Queen Anne’s lace,
crown the hills
with bridal grace.
you and I
sit side by
side as this
showy world
drifts by—
we hold hands,
and bow our heads,
pray this journey
never ends.
(c) jgk 2012
http://www.facebook.com/juliekrantzbooks
Love the rhythm in this, Julie.
DeleteAs do I. Nice work!
DeleteFINAL DESTINATION
ReplyDeleteRun, fly, skate, drive,
Walk, sail, bike, hike.
No matter how you travel
No matter where you roam
There's no better feeling
Then coming home.
(c) Charles Waters 2012 all rights reserved.
True, true, Charles.
Delete(Small note: "Then" should be "Than," I believe.)
Nice catch Steven. Thank you. :-)
DeleteThanks for Nothing Wilbur, Orville
ReplyDeleteMy last flight home, one of those white-knucklers,
hands clutching the arm of the seat,
annoying the man on my right
till he closed his eyes in protest,
we dropped twenty feet, straightened,
dropped again to the accompaniment
of my loud exhalations.
I’ve never been a happy flier, goggling
at the glorious scenery below,
making cloud edens, enjoying the stitching
of lightning lacing through the sky.
Often I think that if God wanted us to fly
we’d have beaks and a love of early worms.
Make of that—Wilbur, Orville, what you will.
Too bad trains, buses, automobiles are so slow.
I can stand fear for an hour or two, I suppose.
After that, I curse the North Carolina sands,
where nothing ever after went right.
©2012 Jane Yolen all rights reserved
I love how fluid and unforced your longer poems can be, Jane. I'm often overly conscious of line breaks and certain correspondences from line to line, so I'm learning a lot by reading a poem like this.
DeleteJane--I shouldn't laugh, but I am. I love how you curse the North Carolina sands!
ReplyDelete10-SPEED ROADSTER
ReplyDeleteWith crimson helmet
gripping graying strands
backpack secured
over neon vest
I hit the road on
my 10-speed racer
zipping past pedestrians
yapping on cell phones
while steering strollers
that hug snoozing babes
as long-leashed dogs
snuffle about
lifting legs
here and there
leaving messages
for canine
acquaintances.
© Carol Weis 2012, all rights reserved
My favorite part is:
Deleteas long-leashed dogs
snuffle about
lifting legs
here and there
Toad in the Road Tanka
ReplyDeleteBy Steven Withrow
Always there's a toad
spoiling our velocities,
holding its slow pace.
Why must it insist itself
into the weave of all things?
Like this, Steven!
DeleteCharles Ghigna has a road poem this week at Poetry at Play:
ReplyDeletehttp://poetryatplay.org/2012/10/06/poet-of-the-week-charles-ghigna/
Really beautiful, Charles.
DeleteSeizing your snow globe
ReplyDeletefor being an airline threat
doesn’t hold water.
Madeleine Begun Kane
I'm with you on that middle-of-the-road travel, Tricia (sorry, couldn't resist). I've got an empty tank this morning (hehe), but I enjoyed reading all these. SO glad you're back with your stretches. I must make a point of getting here on Mondays! Instead of Thursday, by which time I've got nothing.
ReplyDeleteMy first time playing!
ReplyDeleteReading the Signs
Found Along the Road
From Binghamton to Odessa, New York
Antiques
Bless
Country
Dairy
Eggs
Field
God
Home
Insurance
Jesus
Kitchen
Legion
Market
Night
Outlet
Parts
Quilts
Risen
Settled
Tabernacle
United
Village
Welcome
Extreme
Yard
Zion
c 2012 Hannah Mahoney
haha--enjoyed your Traveling Alphabet, Hannah. How telling is that!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Julie. I love the rhythm of yours!
Delete