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Natasha Anne Rose Bowman

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Member Since: Sep, 2007

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Exit 14
by Natasha Anne Rose Bowman

Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Natasha Anne Rose Bowman
•  Valley Shouts and Rocky Stumbles
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           >> View all 50

Trees whiz by,
Quicker and quicker,
The delicate formation of each branch
Scarcely visible,
Lost to this
Great,
Green,
Strip
Beside the highway.
Your pale fingers are wound,
With a danger that somehow satisfies my childlike mind,
Around
The
Steering wheel.
I am impatient,
Bored.
This trip is taking too long.
For although you have promised
Many
Pit-stops,
Trips to fast-food joints,
And bathroom breaks,
All I’ve seen for hours
Are quickly-passing trees
And a bright yellow sign that read
EXIT 14.
Should we have turned in?
Why do we just drive on like this
With no purpose,
No destination?
I crank the music up;
You turn it down again,
With a seething glance in my direction
That tells me all I need to know.
I place my mismatched–stockinged feet
On the dashboard
Carelessly,
Knocking down your precious bobble-head hula-girl
Accidentally tossing her to the floor.
You don’t pick her up
But your fingers clench tighter,
Your eyes narrow
And this automobile of ours
Speeds up more.
I bet your socks always match.
I’ll bet you have no dirty,
Scandalous,
Hypocritical thoughts,
Like the ones that so often settle themselves
In my mind.
You probably never forget to wash behind your ears,
Like our mother used to do for us
So many years ago
Sitting happily,
Side-by-side
In the warm tub water.
I want to remind you
That this vehicle is both of ours.
Do you remember
That I am old enough,
now,
to drive?
I’m sick of riding shotgun.
I want a turn at the wheel.
I want to spin this car around,
And drive right down
EXIT 14
Never to return
To this wretched highway.
For once,
I want to make my own tire-tracks
On this world,
To discover the wonders
Without your hula-girl grinning maniacally back at me.
Slide over here, wont you?
Careful.
Its time for you to live this life
Through my
Rearview
Mirror.

 



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Reviewed by Regis Auffray 4/12/2009
I love your poetry because it expresses so much, Natasha. Love and peace and best wishes,

Regis
Reviewed by Gene Williamson 4/11/2009
Yep, there comes that day when somebody has to say move over, chum,
I'm in control, and, Natasha, it's a tale that only you could tell, and you've told it in overdrive. I like. -gene.
Reviewed by Karen Palumbo 11/29/2007
This piece is just wonderful and you have so much intertwined within. Very talented....

Be safe,
Karen
Reviewed by RaeLynn Teller 11/29/2007
I love this. So much here. Boredom, speed, sibling rivalry, and the want for coming of age. Very well done.

--RaeLynn
Reviewed by Felix Perry 11/28/2007
Kewl write with honest emotions poking through as this road trip wears down the niceties of the passenger.

Fee
Reviewed by Bhuwan Thapaliya 11/28/2007
Poetry at its very best...cheers...love n luck...BHUWAN!!!
Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 11/28/2007
well written and visually very clear-this is sure to evoke memories and emotions in many
Reviewed by Axilea MU 11/28/2007
This is a "road poem"; it has the speed and flow of thoughts and mental images that evoke a road movie.

Your character is well defined, very present. Incisive words too.

A good piece of writing.

Axilea
Reviewed by Rose Rideout 11/28/2007
Wow Natasha, where do you hide your words dear little one, you continue to entertain us with your mind, this is great. Keep it up. Thank you for sharing.

Love you honey, Rose XOXO



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