Best Pullover Poems
In many times in my life I always looked for exits.
Could only get so far and I get pulled over in the intersections.
I called them the Hate PD.
Some of them I use to call my allies but I was to blind to see.
They come at with their lights all blue and red.
Saying negative things that get inside my head.
Making me break and pullover.
Asking God "why me", then I look over my shoulder.
"Landon this GPS conscience speaking.
These negative thoughts silence them, start doing and stop over-thinking!"
On the road again as I see the red and blue lights are getting closer.
Put my foot on the gas as they're yelling at me to pullover.
Give up was turning into keep going
Now I see more lights as I'm doing a 65 in a 53
I'm weak turned into I can do all things through Christ that strengthens me.
Flying past those exits with no hesitation.
Because I'm not braking for anybody who wants to keep me from my destination.
No one can replace me.
And my enemies do not faze me.
Slowing down as I shed a happy tear.
Its quiet, I look at my rear view noticed the lights have disappeared.
Believe in yourself and God with all the problems your facing.
"Landon, thanks for driving. You have reached your destination."
Categories:
pullover, adventure, dream, encouraging, god,
Form:
Enclosed Rhyme
Destination,
Tampa
a college party
we arrive
Finally!!
Carrying
Coors Light 30 pack
cans
already,
my mind is far from right
USF
a theme party
throwback middle school
dance
I'm focused
WOW
standing in front of me
"hey"
"I really like those pants."
having to remember
what i wore in eighth
grade
came with such difficulty
i wore something home made
A
knitted
pullover
vest
black
over a
Fruit Of the Loom
white tee
white gold,
rested
on my chest
and Ralph Lauren
blue jeans
beer pong,
card games
bikinis galore
pink, white thongs
crazy insane
what was in store
staggeringly
Drunk,
half naked
colligiates dancing
with intoxicated grace
inhibitions
not tonight
I stayed
all through
the night
danced with
many females
Alright
my next destination,
Naples
i must leave
at first light
While living in Florida i ventured to beaches, resorts, college dorm parties, and all out
mayhem.. this is just one of many tales....... This was definitely a VIVA Vacation....
Categories:
pullover, social, middle school,
Form:
Free verse
A collector of tin boxes in all shape and disarray.
the older the better but the new welcome too.
It started with a house full of buttons that i will play
look here that one gone escaped the pullover.
In my pocket I will look for the next tin
as my mother knitted the great escape.
Crayon to melt a stamp and shell not gasoline
I alway found the necessary to amuse me.
Now a doyen I open the tins and travel the child
as a homeless I remember the saving of a soul.
Got my house but the tins part of my life
and still searching for the best one.
If such a thing i found today toasted
and discarded the disc for a massive ragga jungle.
A surprise to find what i will put in it
may be a wisp of air to soar the delusion.
Categories:
pullover, boxing day , confidence,
Form:
Free verse
what a cool context
her mind is not pullover
dot into the brain
Categories:
pullover, love,
Form:
Haiku
A large pile of elephant excrement is neither resembling a tortoiseshell coat or a brown handbag but playing dodge ball on a busy motorway could be considered to be akin to a wonky attic vibrating at over 10000 kilowatts a second. Dare to cross a spade with a diamond. And hearts often laugh in a club house city. Ooh wow a calamity clam jumping around. Greatly releasing a board game over an icy rink. Terminate then germinate. Pointless picking puck ups playing poker. How remarkable the dark maroon moving grinning bush. With shades. Trying a terrapin waltz should not ever be attempted in a casserole dish. For beans have eyes and hair and roll roll rolly round and round. Particularly on angled blades of grass. Next in the line is a warbling wheel. Placket of a packet packeted and peckpockpick. Dancing with a mane. Whooshing through atmospheric conditions and pressurized promenades. Always the lark of look. Always the dim of dinner. And now go eat a dim sum bracket wearing a long sleeved pullover whilst chatting to a very pleasant and personable flower. *** floristic fauna frantically feeling fakes *** gun grab geraniums ghostly got grabbed *** underground undergrowth uniquely underwent underwater. *** unification *** ha ha ha centrepiece of soul. ***
Categories:
pullover, anniversary,
Form:
Tough love is not putting you down.
You need to pullover and think,
Change your path.
When you come to the Fork in the Road
And you do not pick it up---Then…
You trip…and fall…and wonder…
How did I get a fork in my head?
One cannot call for help.
One does not have a job,
To pay for a phone.
There are people who love you,
What about responsibility of self-respect.
Tried to help—don’t know what to do anymore.
Don’t wait too long to figure things out.
Only want the best for you.
So for that reason—I cannot enable you…
I do not see u anymore…u never call…
Life will never be the same…
My son is addict…
My life has changed…
Copyright © fonda anne….mooreofme....mamao
Categories:
pullover, addiction, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
ST. PAUL’S CATHEDRAL AND THE TRAMP
Thousands, perhaps millions of wily, desperate tramps have always been,
But this one far away across the seas was an unusual scene,
Lying on a slab of stone,
He had no existing home,
Thin, dirty and hungry, present in a place so pristine!
There are so many around and everywhere about,
But this tramp, above all others, no doubt stood out,
We saw him on holiday,
Whist on a trip to the UK,
T’was a man, couldn't’ tell alive or dead, but stout!
Where did we see this aging, neglected human being
At St. Paul’s Cathedral, in the foyer as you walk in,
Could see that he meant no harm
For inquisitive tourists, worked like a charm,
I felt awed by the spiritual presence of God, ever seeing.
Sunday, had gone to early mass, chilly put on our shawls
Humbled with its historic architecture and solid walls,
Princess Dianne married Prince Charles here,
She had no clue her funeral was near,
Forgetting everything, took part in mass in total enthral!
Heard angelic unbroken voices of pre-teen boys choir
Our family was spiritually enveloped, never been here prior,
We took our seats, no other noise,
Service ended with hymns from the boys
All dressed in rich red robes and outfits, ecclesiastical attire!
People permitted to walk around the cathedral, we saw tombs,
Royalty buried in this remarkable place, perhaps died with gloom,
History took place inside St. Paul's,
With its secret passages and halls,
And many controversial theological disputes solved in back rooms!
Remembered the tramp, was he OK, was he breathing,
Someone nudged him he didn’t move, another started her healing,
Were concerned, thought it should be reported,
He was dirty as soot, his hair knotted,
The tramp, nonchalantly sat up, stretched and disappeared, hymns singing!
Packets of food and milk were tucked in a corner,
And two blankets and a duvet, and an old pullover,
People from around and all the priests,
Saw he had essentials, no whisky treats,
The tramp was happy in his sanctuary like little Jack Horner.
Categories:
pullover, history, princess,
Form:
Limerick
Baptized in the Jordan
The preacher announced on the bus:
"We are heading to the Jordan river,
those wishing to be baptized
will get their chance."
Thoughts of being dunked
in the same water
as the real Jesus.
That appealed to me.
Visions of a wilderness
river,
just like in those bible times.
Taking my cloak off,
wading into the muddy Jordan.
John the baptizer himself,
doing the honors.
Dropping me backwards,
dying my old sins,
raising me to a new life.
Coming out to the sound:
"This is my son,
in whom I am well pleased."
That appealed to me.
We got off the bus.
The wilderness was not
all that wild.
The Jordan had been turned into
"Baptisms are us."
Complete with deli and gift shop.
Apparently six other buses
also had been led by the spirit.
Our spirit's time was
between 4:00 and 4:30.
Ten dollars got you a towel
and a white sterile pullover,
barely long enough to cover
your glad tidings.
Lockers and showers were optional.
Our group was in zone 4.
Who knew rivers had zones.
As one of a hundred white
clothed sheep, I felt like
the newest member of a cult,
like the Hari Krishnas,
but without the fancy haitcuts.
We were herded down concrete steps
that led to the river.
The Jordan was cold.
Baptizers were in the water,
ready to go.
Henry Ford would have been proud
of that production line.
Baptizing had never
been more efficient.
Two every ninety seconds,
like pistons, up and down.
When it came time for me,
I didn't get a "Thank you Jesus"
out before I was whipped around
and plunged beneath the crimson flood.
I almost got whiplash.
I dripped back to the locker,
glad tidings and all.
I think I was baptizee #41.
For five bucks,
you can get
a DVD of your sacred event.
I bought ten,
they oughta make
great Christmas presents.
I went through the gift shop.
I bought a set of John the Baptist
steak knives,
Virgin Mary placemats,
and a couple of Holy Ghost
candle sticks.
As I got back on the bus,
I thought how far we've come
in 2,000 yrs.
We've made God's job so much easier,
assembly line salvation and baptism,
with steak knives thrown in.
Would Jesus be proud?
That did not appeal to me.
9.7.17.
Categories:
pullover, adventure, bible, christian, humor,
Form:
Free verse
I like the way you call me
I love the way; you care me
Every time you need something
You trick me up falling.
Please stay with me, don't leave me alone
Pullover my eye, please don't hide
Everything I need is, the looks you hide
Now or Never, not for us together
It's hard to take it anymore
the long-distance relationship
It's hard to take it anymore
Without hugs, love, and kisses
The memories we have together
Ice-cream in the park
Dancing in the dark
Will be the sweetest forever.
Please stay with me, don't leave me alone
Maybe this is the worst day of my life
As you're going aboard, going aboard, but
I am glad you'll be the soulmate of my life
#4 #lovendsken #poetrychallenge
Categories:
pullover, cry, girlfriend, how i
Form:
Free verse
CHEERS!
Jolly jubilant Jack Frost jogs on snow
Wonder of winter shows snow in white glow.
Fun of smooth ice-skating on snowy track
Children throwing snow balls in front or back.
Crisps of thin snowflakes flying out of grip
Knife of ice hits heart of winter too deep.
Dazzling Dahlia nodding abloom face.
Snowdrops though shy, gorgeous no less.
Severe chilled morning greets with fog and mist.
Woolen sweater, pullover, all in list.
Couple comes close in single comforter,
Embracing tight, pressed lips, not to chatter.
Winter enters in frolic festive mood
New Year to enjoy with sumptuous food.
Have fun, make merry, dance delight: Cheers.
Beat drum, sing in chorus, laugh loud, no tears.
01/08/19
Edited on 04/04/20
Third Place
'STRAND CHOICE Z' Contest by Brian Strand
Categories:
pullover, appreciation, how i feel,
Form:
Couplet
BANG
BANG
BANG
A repeated rapping on my door..
Weary eyed and drowsy,
I lost my balance and met the floor.
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
"Open up you lazy bum, open your door!!"
I gather myself after the fall,
stumbling into the wall.
It took me a while, but I reached my goal.
"About time"
my friend said ..
He wanted to hit the strip club.
Depressed from lost love.
Hungry,
with the sex munchies,
reluctantly,
I gave in.
I get dressed like a female
so it took some time.
I had to grease my braids,
cover with a plastic cap,
to shower..
Shave my face...
What to wear?
as I stand naked and stare.
I chose a white long sleeved under shirt
Ralph Lauren jeans.
A red pullover vest,
strapped silver around my neck,
With high top Jordan's on my feet.
Red,
To match my attire.
Tie my Durag tight,
white,
covered by my NY cap,
red.
which I had bought the day before.
I am big on my appearance.
We started the night of right,
put something funky in air.
Alcoholic mixed drinks,
This is how we prepare.
Glossy eyed and tipsy,
pear shaped booties everywhere.
Short mini skirts,
spaghetti straps,
and stiletto's.
Chances to flirt,
inspired and relaxed,
my confidence grows!!
another one night stand,
perhaps....
I dance!!!!
Jared Pickett
1/23/2010
Asavvy1
Categories:
pullover, lifenight, lost, lost, night,
Form:
Free verse
Sheltered in hot woolen jogging pants,
leather boots and a high-collar pullover,
daringly I dive into more poetry
and everything warms me on this Winter night:
the clothes heating my body, the poems, my soul.
The dripping of the badly fixed tap,
the ill-humored dogs grumbling afar,
the monotonous humming of the refrigerator,
the sensuous woman requesting my caresses,
all touch me softly,
cradling me, comforting me,
making my legs numb,
transporting me inebriated to another dimension.
Flash Gordon, with neither rocket nor space suit,
I wander my cosmic journey,
scanning the galaxies,
looking for the quasar
from whence poems emanate
permeating the Universe.
In the apparent silence of the sleeping night,
small noises,
residues of a lively day,
tell me that I am still on the Earth.
So I feel, Old Poet, my brother,
that this new day,
that's awaking at the rooster's call,
with the roar of the first bus,
moistened by this fragrant dew,
it will be perfect.
Now the sleep whispers to me
that I must go rest, to be ready
to go on promoting the friendship
sowed along the ways of all the world,
collecting miracles,
living, in their plenitude, the moments
and details of this wonderful life
that dazzles and almost smothers me.
Categories:
pullover, happy,
Form:
Lyric
with got turn on
mabe it was wrong
we was on the road
our boby has a hot load
we got in this clover
and pullover
mabe it complete
it was sex beat
\you can bet
was
BACKSEAT SEX
Categories:
pullover, freedom,
Form:
Light Verse
Every mother is a woman,
But not every woman is a mother.
Womanhood is by virtue of the sculptor's mould,
But Motherhood is a sweet-bitter Journey for special trekkers.
So I knew a man who was a mother,
And a woman whose door was shut forever, yet could boast of a generation..
Because though she lacked a fertile land, she could make fruits out of seeds...
I know a mother
In her dehydrated state, she quenches my thirst,
From winter's cage ,she hands over her pullover to me,
From that desert without Oasis, she rains tears each time drought bedevils me on that ground where imbibition could occur,
In her tattered self, she slumps down on both knees ,gazes at the sky till the star touches my life...
You know a mother
Let me lend you my ink....
Happy mother's day to every Mother out there... God bless you
Categories:
pullover, beauty, mother, mother daughter,
Form:
Lyric
It takes two to tango,
as they say.
It also takes two
to road rage.
It sure is fun watching
two insane,
out-of-control knuckleheads
zigzag aggressively
on the highway
with their driver windows down;
honking their car horns,
screaming
vile obscenities back and forth!
Classy guys exchanging "bird flips"
as they chase each other down;
both angry enough
to run each other off the road,
if they ever end up
side by side!
Can you imagine
being caught up in that craziness?
Two banshees on steroids;
funny considering
one can't understand the other.
That's exactly how to communicate!
In the midst
of all the chaotic madness,
me and you; two safe drivers
sharing the road with two idiots
without a care in the world
about the safety of others;
completely oblivious
they're also playing Russian Roulette
with their own lives.
Neither of the two
possessing the presence of mind
to simply disengage
and turn down the heat
before it spells disaster!
Do not tailgate
these uncivilized loons.
Pullover to the shoulder,
or better yet,
take the next exit to safety.
Date written: 05/03/2020
Categories:
pullover, analogy, anger, angst, encouraging,
Form:
Didactic