Best Passenger Poems
i've seen it several times
someone motioning, flourishing
waggling, swinging, curving
hunching, moulding, stooping
pulling shapes, a twirling
a form, a delineation, shadows
fingers, tree branches, winding creeks
sometimes a head inclines
obstructing the cityscape
what are they listening to?
what are they talking about?
we've done it, we've become greenwood
sometimes a jungle
i've done it alone after dropping you off
cold storage becomes publicised
i've done it
i've done it, yes, i've cried in
the car
alone
A passenger opposite me
In the bus looked at me
His bare face, a rough feeling worn
How may change, with that my own
Looking at him and a small smile by my cheeks
Stagnant image sulks and my smile embarrasses
His face and mind not having deflected
Tells something strange I am confused
Only thing that I have had
It was not, that I think very bad
One more smile came in my face
I could slightly open the lace
A reaction to an action might have not the same
A small turn in inner may be the aim
When I left the bus and him at my time
One thing, looking at me, I saw him
Now I remind what I did
And in return he how did
Both we have to re- think, if need
I’m afraid, who he is
My smile’s cheaper, I always give
Did he think that I am mad?
Or would it be the paradox
If the other looked this box
Like the best part of a dubstep song
I feel the slip slip and drop then it's gone
Like when we got it on with a double magnum on my dong
But that was a virgin page
And with that tight cage unlocked the rat was free to rage
And you know theres no way to gauge magnitude of the ensuing sexplosion
But at the epicenter of all the mental corrosion
Is that hooded figure, that master of commotion
And as the gas ball sets across the ocean he rises
From cracks and gashes, from shadows and ashes
No target in mind
No friends or enemies
Just hell bent on injecting the entropy
And it is just painfully oh-so-clear to see the swiftness and efficiency at which he commits atrocities
Over the screams and pleas the question hangs;
What can sooth this beast?
When you are not on your steering wheel
You never know where your journey will take you in
Things running backwards, but the visions consumed better while you are still
You feel more clarity through the way that you have always been
Visions are pampering you through their beauty in capture
You never know where your journey will take you in
Your visions dancing wild from east to west combining in perfect mixture
They provide some adventures behind your fantasy
Visions are pampering you through their beauty in capture
We used to live as the driver of our gravity
Hypnotized by the tracing line road which led you to nowhere but fate
They provide some adventures behind your fantasy
Sitting on the passenger seat sometimes puts you on assorted way to rate
The life which driven sometimes missed from your visibility
Hypnotized by the tracing line road which led you to nowhere but fate
A passenger seat may help you to find the patch of your stained cavity
The life which driven sometimes missed from your visibility
When you are not on your steering wheel
Things running backwards, but the visions consumed better while you are still
City life turns to sparse assortments;
Of local pubs and country homes.
Tall brick walls fade into fences;
Amongst hedgerows and mossy stones.
Crowded bustle soon lowers its pace;
Those now free, move unconfined.
Only thoughts spent are of contentment,
Peaceful surroundings heal the mind.
As roads turn to paths unbeaten,
Dipping and climbing, alongside the fields.
Views everchanging, revelling new pastures,
Filled full of beauty from treasures they yield.
Awaking from the brief city escape,
Thoughts soon creep back to the hubbub.
Before it all end though, the passenger pleads,
Can we go for a pint at the pub?
The Sexist Airline Passenger
By Elton Camp
The passengers boarded for the flight
To one man it didn’t seem quite right
In the pilot’s seat a woman sat
“Hey I don’t know about that!”
“Onboard I will not remain
If a woman flies this plane.”
With utter scorn, another man said
“Get such stuff out of your head”
“Ideas like that are so out of date.
To hear such talk, I sure do hate!”
“She can keep this plane on track.
It’s not like she’ll need to back!”
June the most beautiful month, delivered the most angelic Angels
I
Poetically
Extend My Warm Congratulations
To every Beautifully Heavenly
delivered Angel who
stepped
feet on
planet
Earth
On
Jumping unto new elevations; June
Boarding a flight to a poem land in the
Poetry
Soup
Jet
Goodnesses
Blessing
Favour
Peace
Love
Joy
Happiness
Amen
Amen
Amen
Bountiful Abound Your Outcomes
May your poetic golden ink never run down
The streams flowing from the inspiration of poetry soup
Be your waterfalls
May your paper never be exhausted
The white clouds to be your blank sheet
Happy ,,........................happy
Poetic celebrated life, more Grace, more strength, more insight, ....Health Packaged in the Blood of Jesus...... In JESUS NAME!!!!
Abundant Beauty Always Your outcomes as you move increasingly the golden stairways
Get your heavenly birthday package
Sent by an Angel
This Golding morning
Expect the piazza befall nightfall
He will wing to your doorsteps
And a chime will be the sign of the knock
On your June footsteps
Happy Birthday June Poetry Soupers
From
I ,
me
&
myself
Gideon
I am an impostor.
There was a person inside
Who felt my eyes,
And told me I wouldn’t
Make it back alive.
I am ineffective.
The autumn came through like
Trains passing underground.
I am late to the present;
I am late to the waking;
I am late to the person I was becoming
Before I knew I was waiting.
I am late to understanding what it takes
To love something you so long have hated.
I am outside looking in from a window
At myself like a stranger.
Who am I and what have I done?
Who am I and what would I become?
Without the knife and the night that came
Like a train
That I watched pass as I stood at the gate?
I am estranged.
You can’t love me because I'll never do the same.
Stomping
Stomping
Stomping
Stop,
Please
No control,
Vehicle lurches
But I’m just a
Passenger on this
Road of life
Dear Passenger
Dear “Passenger Under The Train”,
Tell me, how did you get that way ?
You were a person before you travelled,
Not even a corpse now, you are bedevilled;
A passenger, to where, nobody knows,
But to the Underground, there another one goes.
We sat beside each other
Wondering about the other
Looked at your hand
There was no ring
Looked at my face
There was a grin
I proposed, you disposed
We both looked the other side
You composed, I decomposed.
I have a dark passenger always with me.
All of us do actually.
Each and everyone of us has the capability
to imagine the most unimaginable darkest thoughts ever to be,
we all just tend to not indulge our dark passenger instinctively.
No one in their right mind at any time
desires to remain in a constant darkest state of mind,
that is until the dark passenger fully arrives.
The dark passenger makes its appearance generally
during those periods we have termed "insanity."
When one embraces thoughts of darkness regularly,
the dark passenger will make a full appearance inevitably.
There isn't anything wrong with viewing the occasional horror movie,
but I wouldn't recommend viewing them over and over again repeatedly.
It would only serve to fuel and strengthen your dark passenger's entity,
and so I guess that the moral of the dark passenger story
is to indulge your dark passenger very carefully.
Live your life as stress free as can possibly be
and your dark passenger will remain at a distance of relative safety.
If that doesn't work,
then there's probably something very wrong with you neurologically
and if I were you, I would seek professional medical help ASAP!
Not all music soothes the soul;
I find some downright grating.
At times like those, a wish for silence
Isn’t overstating.
I’m really not a fan of rap
And opera’s not my lingo,
But rock or blues or classical
And certain jazz – well, bingo!
Yet even in my chosen genre,
Some songs I can’t take
And when my husband drives,
The music choice is his to make.
And so I often fall asleep
To music that’s a bore;
The savage beast within me
Just can’t take it anymore.
The easiest solution,
Which will help my spirits thrive,
Is to commandeer the radio –
But then I have to drive!
In a silent valley of feelings,
Under the shadow of deep emotions,
A person with a bag of old memories,
With a bundle of unsolved queries,
Waiting for his next journey,
Beyond this inner world,
He is a passenger of love,
In the crowd of heartless people,
He has lost everything,
But his broken dreams and hopes,
Still with him as a mate,
No one understand his unspoken words,
He is a passenger of love,
Hope of new dawn in his eyes,
He does not sleep all the night,
Besides his innocent smile,
Alot of griefs alive,
How much alone he is,
Sing a sad song like a dove,
He is a passenger of love,
His eyes searching for his destiny,
Long wait reduces his ambitions,
But his courage is as strong as mountains,
Cool breeze never effected him,
Died before dead,
No one scattered him,
He knows how to tuck,
He is a passenger of love,
THE VESSEL AND THE PASSENGER
I am but a man put on this earth by the creator of
all man kind, to be used as a vessel to spread his
goodness his mercy, his love, his joy, his pain,
his inspirations and, his triumphs. To pass
on infiniteness of creation itself. I stand tall,
firm, steadfast to the earth like a centuries old oak
tree that may sway in the wind, but will never
fall...for I have been here for centuries past and
centuries to come, for storms that have visited and
storms that will last. The one that I represent is
still greater than all. He moves mountains, heals
souls, make rainbows, and listens to hearts. He
absorbs our pain. He is the essence of beginnings!
I am but a woman put on this earth by the creator of
all human kind, to be a passenger on the vessel, to help
spread, his goodness, his mercy, his love and
his joy, his pain, his inspirations, his triumphs,
and to pass on infiniteness of creation itself
I stand tall, strong, with deep-seated roots of an old
oak tree, with the gentleness and longevity of a fig
tree that bare the fruit of the world. I will stand up to
the storms and sway in the wind. But I will not fall,
for I am from the creator that makes oceans, and skies,
and moves the generations of all!
We are man and woman. We are equal and separate. We
spread unconditional love, joy, hope, and comfort,
laughter, songs harmony, visions of all that can be. We
are man and woman from the very depths of our souls, with
spirits that soar! and pain that burns, and hearts that under
stand. Passing on to generations, the rules of the land, and
praising the creator of us all! We are the chariots of life!
We are the seeds of existence. We are man and woman and
we stand tall. We are man and woman . . . We stand as one.
We are man and woman the vessel and the passenger.