Signals
#1
Signals


Oh, you Progressive girls!
I wait for a green light–
but all I ever get
is a flashing yellow arrow
pointing left.
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#2
Maybe try taking a turn. Big Grin
billy wrote:welcome to the site. make it your own, wear it like a well loved slipper and wear it out. ella pleads:please click forum titles for posting guidelines, important threads. New poet? Try Poetic DevicesandWard's Tips

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#3
at least it's not a red one Wink
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#4
(03-04-2019, 05:02 PM)billy Wrote:  at least it's not a red one Wink

Good one
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#5
Last night I dreamed that I came out of a building and saw Alexandria Octavia-Cortez talking to a group of young people. As she was leaving I walked over to her and I told her I came up with her ideas years ago. That I wanted to tear up the paved roads and go back to horse and carriage. She didn't seem to want to talk to me. When I held out my hand to shake hers, she hesitated a little, then she didn't give a firm grip, just slid away real loose. I'm glad the politcians are younger and more attractive, it's easier to make them uncomfortable. Soon they'll refuse to be reported on on tv for fear of being stalked by their supporters. They'll roll their eyes at the ones that vote for them, and refuse bribes and donations the same way the woman in the apartment across from you won't accept your grandmother's weddingring.

I was looking at the way to spell her middle name when I was writing it, and I still got it wrong.
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#6
(03-05-2019, 09:45 PM)rowens Wrote:  Last night I dreamed that I came out of a building and saw Alexandria Octavia-Cortez talking to a group of young people. As she was leaving I walked over to her and I told her I came up with her ideas years ago. That I wanted to tear up the paved roads and go back to horse and carriage. She didn't seem to want to talk to me. When I held out my hand to shake hers, she hesitated a little, then she didn't give a firm grip, just slid away real loose. I'm glad the politcians are younger and more attractive, it's easier to make them uncomfortable. Soon they'll refuse to be reported on on tv for fear of being stalked by their supporters. They'll roll their eyes at the ones that vote for them, and refuse bribes and donations the same way the woman in the apartment across from you won't accept your grandmother's weddingring.

I was looking at the way to spell her middle name when I was writing it, and I still got it wrong.

You undertstand the poem perfectly.  Can't wait for the debates:  AOC on the same stage with Biden and Sanders, her handshake with Biden will be a creepiness explosion unless they preform it from a distance of at least 2 meters;  even so, Biden will be in a hunchbacked virtual hug and AOC in a hunchbacked ick.

@ellajam - Well, a right turn is always an option - even (especially?) on a red.  I don't quite trust those flashing yellow arrows:  opposing traffic just rushes on through, and then there are the pedestrians...
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#7
And I really had that dream. I didn't make it up. Unless I even make stuff up in my sleep. . . . Most of my women don't sleep with me but in me.
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#8
(03-06-2019, 02:23 AM)rowens Wrote:  And I really had that dream. I didn't make it up. Unless I even make stuff up in my sleep. . . . Most of my women don't sleep with me but in me.

OK, then, your subconscioius understands the poem perfectly [too] Smile  .
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#9
The right is always open. Really, it's the easy path. But I find that if you took the easy path all the time, you're bound to end up where you started.

And then there's the left. Red is stagnant. Yellow is slow, it often comes and goes, but at least it's motion. Green: it never is green, isn't it?

I guess we just have to wait. No, not even that. I think it's our natural condition, to wait. We'll only ever see that damn green light twice: the first time, on the dock of our new self-made mansion, fading into the fog like our lost love's eyes; and the second, when we die.

We being ourselves, as individuals. But before we know it -- or, really, *after* we can ever really know it -- our successors strain at the intersection we thought, while we lived, our goal. And that's whether we waited red or yellow.
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