I ran a few red lights for you today—

[joel]

I ran a few red lights for you today—
though utmost blue, the skies seemed truly drawn
and overhead the signal bled away:
the day star dead, I pain instead for dawn.
I didn’t care whose eyes were there to see
the redness where my steadfast stare gleamed wet;
police looked on till I was gone and free—
they’d stretch and yawn like once upon regret.
I prayed for speed but had a need for slow—
despite my greed, my newfound creed was less—
I traded yield to heaven’s field for go.
If fate is sealed, what comes revealed to bless?
To say goodbye to love that I adored
I followed you to trust you to the Lord.

[Doreen Peri]

breathtaking.... absolutely stunning poetry... i read it aloud and it brought a tear to my eye

you continually improve your craft and you, my friend, are a Poet with a capital P, a craftsman to the nth degree

[bennie2]

this might be totally out of order but...

but... dot dot dot... don't you hate that?

anyway... i love your writing... but i feel that, once you get by love, or women or love of women, you'll improve.

by love? am I that cynical? fuck!

[bennie2]

that was a horrible response.

I'm sorry.

[stilltrucking]

maybe an even more horrible response.

your poem reminded me of a Rolling stone song about listening to the colored preacher on the radio and running three red lights in his honor.

sorry joel it was beautiful, for some reason it also reminds me of a time I was sitting at a red light in baltimore maryland in 1979 with tears streaming from my eyes wondering why have I lived so long.

[joel]

that was a horrible response.

I'm sorry.

no way--not horrible! i agree, but i don't have anything else to write about. the fuckeduppedness of society? in the end, that turns into love for me. this stupid/sensless war? i object on grounds of love. trees and nature? love. hate and anger and violence and greed and capitalatry? well, maybe that's where my abuser songs come from. --but i don't like abuse. so give me a challenge. tell me some otyher corner of human(e) experience and i'll work on it. i love (haha--did it again (i got made fun of in germany for how i "loved" everything)) an honest response and i'm glad to take it. i wanna grow--i just don't know how.

[joel]

I was sitting at a red light in baltimore maryland in 1979 with tears streaming from my eyes wondering why have I lived so long.

in 1979, the protons and neutrons and electrons of Maryland were just starting to come together to put me together, stockpiling themselves for what i now am--so i wonder how many of those atoms, how long they lasted, before i (who am really not old enough to complain) first let some flow in questions of how much longer i have to (have got to or still have to) go.