Greyhound Poems | Examples

SOMETHING ABOUT THE GREYHOUND BUS COMPANY NAME

Large and in highway charge
Highway power
Hour by Hour
A name among giants
The Greyhound bus name started as a car
Miles after Miles the bus company has gone far
It surrounds go in travel and us
Full of promise through the years of passenger transportation
Plenty of history information
The Greyhound Bus was once a Fortune 500 known as the Greyhound Corporation
Precision in road schedule
Timing being just right
Day and Night
Bus wheels still are turning
1914 to present
The Greyhound dog stretched trademark represent
Highway friend
The pioneers Anderson and Wickman who gave the Greyhound bus its start
They saw the highway vision
Broken up into division
The hound dog attention
Giving the buses that certain effect
Greyhound bus move
Years of prove
History made and still continuing
As dust kicks up in the wind behind any Greyhound bus
Another journey into the sunrise and sunset
Never ending chapter
Go Greyhound and Leave the Driving to us

THE STORY OF LADY GREYHOUND GREETA

A Greyhound Racing Dog
More than Bite and Bark
A Champion Breed
Determined to always succeed
A winner with a proceed
Greeta’s face pictured on Campaign Billboards
A look 
Aim to attract for Advertising jobs
Famous throughout
Audience attention when she is racing about
Greeta is the logo on every Greyhound Bus
People cheer when they see her face
On every Greyhound bus she goes place to place
Greeta known for her acceleration
Faces her competitors with confidence
Moving fast when the Gun blows in an instance
Greeta promise
Winning ways
Numerous awards mount
So many hard to count
Greeta spotlight being the amazing greyhound Dog
Speed and Finesse
Her race scorecards at their best
Greeta is a standalone
Her name of fame is full blown

Flo The Greyhound

She passes the place
where I sit some mornings,
her slow, sure gait pads
a gentle elegance across
the grass carrying
just a hint of indifference.
Retired from racing, 
she has been adopted out.

She seems contained within
herself, ignoring the yappy terrier 
and the playful retriever 
that bounds towards her 
on her right, not shifting 
her gaze as if transfixed
on some vision 
she holds in her head. 
Nothing of the morning
disturbs her meditations.

I often wonder whether
she is playing out a trauma
that has lodged in her memory
or can't fit the past and present 
together into some reconcilable 
whole or her aloofness 
is just the nature of the breed 
and the interpretation 
of her manner
has more to do with me.

There is a solitude in her
that I cannot fathom and troubles
me. Sometimes I feel 
like bending down
and putting my arms around
her lovely neck but a reticence 
holds me back as we both
go our separate ways,
each with our own solitude 
held locked within.

EYES OF THE GREYHOUND BUS

Presence on the road
Headlight in observe
Destinations serve
Skillful hands of the Greyhound Bus Driver
Stretched out Hound dog trademark
Voice of the rolling maneuvering wheels
Onward and precise
Cutting through the times of fog
The Greyhound bus is more than a name and dog
A passenger’s friend
Enriching America within
The Greyhound bus showing the way
Travel in your getaway
Eye always on the road
Lean back and recline
We are all the Greyhound Bus timeline
Feel America up close and one’s dreams explored
Honor and privilege
The Greyhound bus leverage
Masterpiece and motor coach engineer
Each day a preserver
Sunrise to sunset always near
Symbolic
The Greyhound bus far and wide
Bus history with a provide
Travel with care
Eye on the people
Heartfelt love
The Greyhound bus like no other
The thought of a flying Dove
Vision and reflection
Precision
Everlasting approach
Yesterday’s inspiration
Tomorrow a reality
A Greyhound bus rolling in your way
Your chance and opportunity
The getaway

Bottlebrush and Greyhound

There are times
when I long to move
beyond the edges of myself
as when, this morning, alongside 
the power station fence,
I passed under a red cloud 
of bottlebrush flowers
dripping nectar in a frenzy
of birds feeding on the sticky
clusters overhead,
too high for me to reach 
and plunge my hand
deep into the pure joy 
of that crimson feast.

And when a greyhound,
let loose from its leash, 
ran past me with such speed 
and grace, I longed to be 
its stride, the power propelling 
it across the grass 
and into the distance, turning
in the wide arc 
of its own happiness.
I would have given anything
to dissolve into its bounding
freedom, undone from my leash
of old age and the slow shuffle
of aching feet. 
There are times 
when I long to move
beyond the edges of myself,
if only for a moment.

GREYHOUND BUS TURKEY CHOIR

We have a reason to sing
We are doing our thing
Turkey dash
Oven free
We are traveling carefree
How noble and superior
We don’t have inferior
Turkey’s everywhere asked Greyhound to help them escape
We are not moving like an ape
Destinations doesn’t matter
We have cut down all the chatter
Away from any knife and fork
Dinner tables try eating pork
This is a Turkey getaway
That Ax is not coming nowhere near our way
The Greyhound bus is forever our friend
From beginning to end
Greyhound Bus Turkey wheels in keep on rolling
Passing dinner tables by
Our distances are far
We don’t need a car
Turkey eating a turnoff
Sunrise to Sunset
Turkeys are saying, “We have pushed away in a determined getaway”
We will not be considered Turkey Day
We don’t care what anybody says
Turkey out

GREYHOUND BUS FABLE

Bus company with a stretch
No catch
North to South
East to West
Highways and back roads know us best
Day and Night
Even when weather is frightful and delightful
Bringing families together
The Greyhound bus name like no other
Only a Greyhound bus would know
It’s the scenery we show
Destination to destination
Depart with an arrival
Turning wheels with a spin
Acceleration throughout
Our service to prove
Our buses that ride smooth
From the USA to Mexico
Known throughout the world
Go with the flow
Greyhound bus with a glow
Greyhound and passengers say so.

RUN GREYHOUND RUN

RUN GREYHOUND RUN



Speed and Quickness
Audiences being the witness
The Greyhound legs fitness
Rush in a race
The Greyhound keeping up the pace
Every moment a pulsating session
The sun being always high and warm at noon
The Greyhound always sleek
Always ready to go
Making their mark in set and flow
Movement on precision of swift
Acceleration with determined to win on the Greyhound’s mind
Greyhound move
Hound’s that always prove
Always a Greyhound
Speed on could
Run Greyhound run
Do what you do best.

Ode To Sleek Greyhound

Sleek and smooth greyhound
A more refined pup we have never found
You are the one we look up to for sure
Your loveliness an example of brilliance so pure.’

You are an example that makes our species proud.
You do it subtly and serenely, not in any way loud.
Sleek and smooth greyhound, this is written for you.
You are my role model, so tried, treasured and true.

Greyhound Bus Possessed

I can contest
Put me to the test
My heart in confess
Honest and true
Greyhound bus in my soul
I am a walking behold
My younger years my start
The Greyhound dog stretched always seen on all sides of the bus always caught my attention
The highway representation
I am a walking Greyhound bus presentation
The Greyhound bus wear
Proud and honored with care
Of course, I always get a stare
That is no more than fair
The Go is within me
The Greyhound bus I want people to see
No secret no regret
Thinking of the hound, I cherish the engine sound
Accelerate as I appreciate
The Greyhound bus in me today, I will continue all the way.

A Greyhound-Bulldog Blend

An athletic greyhound-bulldog blend
is the pride and the joy of South Bend
Fast and vivacious
Strong and tenacious
At Notre Dame he’s playing tight end

The Last Day of a Racing Greyhound

It’s three am and I need to pee, feeling thirsty
My water bowl is empty and it’s getting warm in here
My crate is barren, the cement is cold on my legs
I hear my brothers and sisters cry, they are next door
I hear the door open, my masters are yelling, scaring me
My crate is opened, they shove me out, I pee a little
I get hit with a belt and screamed at, I head to the track
I finally drink but my stomach is raw, gurgling with gas
I am given some white substance, then a small treat
I am pulled to the lineup, I hate the sound of the horn
I see the white fluffy bone, or is it a bunny?
I run, run as fast as I can, my brother trips me, I fall behind
My leg and foot are bleeding, I cry out but no one helps
I am then taken to a field, I feel scared, alone, starving
It is quiet, until I hear a loud bang, something hits me
I wake up at peace chasing butterflies and seeing rainbows

Greyhound After Midnight - Contest

(saw a mistake with a rhyme and just now revised this)

I’m on a Greyhound bus – six hours till dawn
It’s late and dark. I think that I must be
the only passenger whose light is on.
I’ll keep that tiny light trained down on me
because I want to write some poetry!

Are people sleeping on this late night ride?
Perhaps, but I will still keep on my light.
There’s little talking; maybe some folks bide
their time while looking out onto the night.
Not I! I take delight in time to write.

Aug 5, 2019 for Janice Canerdy's English Quintain Poetry Contest 
written 8/2/19 after midnight in Iambic Pentameter

Greyhound - La To Ny

Taxied to the terminal. The fare paid,
vagrants begged for alms, some too drunk to care.
Shrunken faces, weather beaten, they played
a sad tune of which I was unaware.
Some had the means, even possessed the fare
to transport them to towns with better care.

I passed the huddled poor, stepped on the bus,
took my seat at a window facing west.
Soon, the highway’s open arms greeted us.
No longer stranger, a solemn house guest.
Believing the ride would force me to test
my endurance, I slept. I’m not a pest.

Vegas came, sponged every cent from my purse.
Should have listened to the driver. He knew
how slots are rigged; still, could’ve been much worse.
Could’ve sold my soul since winners are few.
Back on the bus, we zipped through burgs so new
to me, I ticked them off my map on cue.

Three days passed. Felt like a tree that was felled.
Then I saw my love. So nice to be held.



Urban Sonnet poetry contest: 5/17/19 by Emile Pinet

Polka Dots An English Greyhound

I was gifted a little gem; her name is Polka Dots.
She's an English greyhound wench, stands as tall as a park-bench.
She's white, full of black spots, slender stem, and loves apricots.
Her previous owner use to race her, my gut would wrench.

She's an English greyhound wench, stands as tall as a park-bench,
eyes that melt your heart, lies around on my round leather couch.
Her previous owner use to race her, my gut would wrench.
We're both old slouches and once in a while, she becomes a grouch. 

Eyes that melt your heart, lies around on my round leather couch;
she's white, full of black spots, slender stem, and loves apricots.
Her previous owner use to race her, my gut would wrench.
I was gifted a little gem her name is Polka Dots.

1/9/2019

Poetry Contest: Polka Dots 
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh

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