Quotes about lane, page 7
The barbar down the lane
Most time as much a scissor talk
Call for long legs and hair walk
A thing that happens all the time
To every pocket that has least a dim
The man change a hair one
With smile and happiness morning in line
A hair enters and 'voom' disappears
The man inside with hair on repairs
Our barbar down the lane
Is a man with no shame
My hair I dedicate to him
And mine is down with all vim
The everday I wish to enter
And embrass the comb in my hair
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Nii Ayi Cobblah
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Arctic Passage - fabled shipping lane opens
Climate change felicitated a new shipping lane opens
The fabled Arctic Passage along Siberia's coastline
50 Let Pobedy. Her victory over ice
Plows steadily through ice cold sheets of white
© Calac
50 Let Pobedy
Russian: 50 л е т П о б е д ы , transliterated as 50 Let Pobedy
50 Years Since Victory or 50 Years Anniversary of Victory
50 Let Pobedy is a Russian Federation Nuclear Powered Icebreaker which is used to keep the Arctic Passage open during the summer months
poem by Chris Lane
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Thoughts for Today
Blue sky thinking grey sky mind
Lost dimensions hard to find
Daytime dreams nightmare nights
Silent prayers and noisy fights
Outside box and inside dealing
Pure of thought or simply stealing
Fast lane sprint or slow lane creeping
Lie awake or waste time sleeping
Life see's changes death see's sorrow
Raise you daylight see's tomorrow
Thoughts surrounded mind let wander
Food for thought with time to ponder
All entrenched in thoughts of all
Strong, the weak, the short, the tall.
No escape but death can alter
From such paths should you so falter.
poem by Dave James
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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
[...] Read more
poem by Gert Strydom
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A distant universe
dark as cave
we walk inside
yet is outside
there is a man
spiritual they say
filling the cave with
his chants
you walk the
lighted lane
they call common
sense
the darkness
holds over you
like a distant
universe, a
boundless part
you fear to tread
[...] Read more
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Escaping gamut of gobalisation
Escaping the gamut of globalization
found a haven in the cradles ofcivilasation
on a lone noon ride
i rode on a lane by the countryside
savannah anthills in unison rise
with towering trees and other soft greenies
in festive and feverish dance mood
to the tunes of gentle storm
that makes mockery of
the blazing heat of the ruler of the day
foliages, branches and leaves
gathering dust, gathering momentum
for a crackling regenerated transition
at a wet cessation permitting a cycle time
of dryness and browness
on the lone lane, lone noon i ride
through Shapade, Ode-Remo, Iperu and Ilisan
A gentle rider and reluctant bike
and a healing gentle storm
my companies to a humble destination.
poem by Ifedayo Oshin
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The Hex
The Hex.
Where the village lane meets the main road there was
an ugly olive tree that looked like two crippled old men
trying helping each across the road, petrified by cars,
I used to stop and talk to the tree old but still bore fruit;
now it has been chopped down and will end up as winter
wood. No. I’m not a tree hugger but it annoyed me that
it was cut down as it was not in any ones way.
An old woman came down the lane she had a long nose
with a big hairy wart on and a sack of twigs slung on her
crocked back. “Tell me dear woman, why was this tree
executed? “Because it was ugly looked like two old men
trying to help each other across the road”, she said and
toothlessly laughed.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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I am from
I am from homey 12, Briar Lane and a party twenty four hours a day at 16, Briar Lane.
I am from fruity Jolly Ranchers and super sonic speed bikes.
I am from the most horrible kids and amazing friends.
I am from luxury cars and extremely loud "pffts! ".
I am from little, silent "bam" and garbage disposal smells.
I am from dancing waves on lakes and ponds.
I am from trees hugging my houses and swishing pools.
I am from extremely competitive soccer and Grammie.
I am from Grampa and dad.
I am from Aunt Laura and Mickey.
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poem by Ethan Sperdakos
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Lonely As Hell
I am no man's burden
I can take care of myself
but it's lonely out in space
I've come to know the area well.
I salute shooting stars as they pass on by
a comet, a galaxy, but never a sigh,
lonely as hell out here, i say
lonely as hell
lonely as hell.
I put on a smiling face
and greet those who may pass by
but it's a different story if they could see
behind these emerald eyes
straight into this heart of mine
searching for love, running out of time,
it's lonely as hell in here, I say,
lonely as hell
lonely as hell.
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poem by Beyond Repair
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Suicide Lane
Suffering every moment that I'm awake and not asleep
Its the only way to get away from the things that make me weep
What I feel is something beyond sorrow
I keep finding myself dreading tomorrow
Then I find myself on Suicide Lane
While trying to figure out who is to blame
I feel worthless, scared and at the same time lost
I will give anything to not feel this way no matter the cost
But the coward in me keeps me from self-annihilation
I guess for now I have to live with my situation
I'm not getting any better dealing with the pain
I know I will find myself on suicide lane again
But if the pain and darkness continues to exist
Then suicide will become harder to resist
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poem by FilledWithFearandDoubt NotAvailable
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