Long Adventureme Poems

Long Adventureme Poems. Below are the most popular long Adventureme by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Adventureme poems by poem length and keyword.


Shogun Series Bill's Side 11 Richard Pickett Story

(Continued from Bill's side 10“)
     
    "Never  mind that. I know you well enough to know you know what you’re doing. 
Just stick with me and keep me informed especially on this one. I’ll give you as much 
leeway as I can. I got a hunch this case is going to be rough in more ways than 
one. Get me? I’ve been around a while. I didn’t come with this morning’s milk. The 
Captain and I already been discussing this one with the Commissioner. This 
vigilante thing is dangerous and already out of control.”
Bill still didn’t know where this was going but at least so far he hadn’t been 
demoted to walking a beat. His hope and nerve  was picking up. This Griggs guy 
was tough and had a rep for no bull. “Yeah, that’s wha ….”  
“Just shut up and listen, Sgt. Lipton. The Captain doesn’t want any part of that 
vigilante case. He wants a good record for an upcoming political agenda. That’s no 
secret. He doesn’t want anything to do with this case because he’s afraid it won’t 
get solved and his record will be stained with it.
You just stick to what you’re supposed to be doing and keep your ear to the 
ground. From experience I know that vigilante.. if it’s just one,... isn’t going to work 
out his issues in just one precinct. Keep in touch with what’s going on while you’re 
on and off duty. If you got to check something out off the cuff, you are to ask me 
first. Get it? Mums the word to the Captain. If he hears anything about our talk I’ll 
deny every bit of it and you’ll be left holding the bag. Do you get my drift here Sgt.? 
………  …    .. …. “Cat got your tongue?”
“No sir, I just…uh …yes sir I mean ….I get your drift.”
“Good , I enjoyed our conversation…now haven’t you got someplace to go? It’s 
knock off time. I believe your up for mounty duty tomorrow.”
“Yes, I believe I am. Is there anything else Lt Griggs?”
“Yes, close the door on your way out.” Bill took his hat up off his knee, stood up and 
walked the three steps to the door when Lt Griggs said without looking up from his 
paper work on his desk, “Bill…?
“Yes sir?”
“ Glad to have you back“, he said with a more relaxed tone, “Now get outa here.” 
And he went back to his case file.
Bill smiled, went to his office, traded his ball cap in for his Stetson and left the 
building mulling over what the Lt had and had not told him.   

(to be cont on Richard Pickett poetry site)
Form: Narrative


Cap'N and the Wench -Part the Third-

Cap'n & the Wench  *part the third*

Says the Wench t'the Cap'n "Me thinks I'll have me a Gin!" 
So says the Cap'n t'the Wench " Go right ahead Me Dear~
Fer now I'll surely Win!"

With an Evil Grin & a Twinkle in his Eye~ 
So's the Wench did notice & then By & By~ 
& did say to the Cap'n "Be mindin' Yer P's & Q's!" 
"Fer Me's the Wench what Decides that which Ye Do!" 
"Yer no Grinnin'Porpoise & that there's no Danged Flipper!" 
"Har!" says the Cap'n ~ "I am though the Skipper!"

The Wench ran B'low to the Galley fer Sure! 
The Cap'n did follow yet His Timin' was Poor! 
She'd already laid 'er hands on that Bottle O'Gin~ 
So Mightily Fast She did give the Skipper a Spin!

Once for a Second this Pyrate did Think~ 
That Fer Sure He was Now on the Very Brink! 
But Nay was the Word passed Along from the Deck~ 
Fer the Wench had decided~ "Aaaarrrrggghhhh! What the Heck!"

She sat Calmly at the Helm givin' the Great Wheel a Turn~ 
Fer surely She was decidin' this Ol'SeaWolf to Spurn! 
When Lo & Behold the Cap'n Sauntered to the Cockpit~ 
And 'twas Plain to see he was a'Chompin at the Bit!

Grabs the Wench He does with Muscle & Sinew~ 
"I'd rather Lil'Wench Ye Stuck to the Brew! 
Fer Yer Manner is Bold and Wild without Reason~ 
And 'tis a Great Job O'Work fer Ye to be a'Pleasin!"

Now the Wench did Ponder a Moment or Two~ 
Whilst the Sky sent Forth a Bolt from the Blue~ 
She'd wondered what it was had Caused her to Forgit~ 
That which She'd a'wanted fer a Tiny lil' Bit!

Up Jumped She & Bolted off to the Deck!
Just as the Cap'n was givin' her a Peck! 
Now this was all 'twas needed to Bring to Mind~ 
That which this Wench sorely needed to Find!

Now in Ports where all Pyrates finally to a Dock come a'Side~ 
Ne'er does a Man or Woman really Know how was that Wild Ride~ 
Now the Bows & the Belly of the Ship were Finally Quiet~ 
The Wench had gone Below with Her Bellyachin' Pyrate!

The Moon did Rise with Splendor that very Night~ 
Throughout the Great Ship 'twas the Only Light! 
For the Cap'n & his Wench had Decided to Tease~ 
And this Was the Way They each Other did Please!

The Great Ship is Seen Oft enough Sailin' Agin on the Seas.... 
With Always enough Gin with which that Hardy Wench to Please!

SeaWolf
Form: Ballad

1974 Mystery Light

A big white did pace the ute,
no noise it made, what sort of a brute? 
it must still be there it never left,
next thing i knew we had a coppers arrest,
We  seem to have lost memory of the 
lights  leaving?

...1974 Mystery Light....

So we drove on the Moonie Highway,
Between Dalby and St George,
It was fairly late at night,
dark timber all we saw,
(its all gone now the timber, and the big dry came )

A great white light appeared beside us,
In the treetops, beside the road,
It was completely soundless,
Stayed beside us, brightly showed,
So we tried speeding up,
And we tried slowing down,
But it followed as we led,
One hundred mile from town,
So I said to Wayne give me the rifle,
I'll put a bullet in it soon,
But they wouldn't let me shoot it,
It was bigger than the moon,
I asked Mark and Wayne, but they didn't see it go,
But we never saw it wander, the bloody so and so?
Next thing we were arrested,
Like stunned mullets? in the dark,
By a copper in a singlet wearing thongs,    (out hunting in his own car?)
a bright spark?
He'd look at you while talking,
With his head half turned away..................(WAS HE AN ALIEN?.)...
Booked our Mark for speeding,
Drunken copper all I'd say?
Don Johnson

Chris D. Aechtner
Contest Name	Another Chance To Swing





Mackey (nee Dean) Brummell
My cousin Don's wife had an experience about that same time, with the
big white light following her and the kids home, not far away north on
the St George Mitchell road....
She had to get the kids to open gates and was nervous of this thing
that followed them.....

Her son Keith 10 years later was out Roo shooting in the night 
with a local St George man
and they saw the light too,(much the same area)
 the passenger refused to leave the car to
open gates on the Station property they were shooting on,
 the light changed direction and
eventually left them at high velocity...

I did me an hypno regression on the missing time, got the picture.
I saw a flying saucer cross the road at a few hundred feet, could see panels 
on the underside of it, saw a light beam transfix my cousin, saw his red hair with a gold curl in the light and the bright blue shorts i had forgotten he wore that day.
Interesting to me!  


Don Johnson
Form: Rhyme

Long Black Ribbon

(I actually need a little help on this one, / not really poem/ not really song/  I call it a 
cute ryhme ..
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I’ve crossed many a bridges 
I’ve seen many a town
Now that long black ribbon beckons me 
To put the hammer down.

Sometimes I get real lonesome
And I don’t know what to do 
Long Black Ribbon Pardon me 
I’d like to talk to you 

Long black ribbon---here I am 
This is what I do 
I jam some gears and grind some teeth 
Then I roll all over you.. 

Was down shifting south of Dallas 
Pulled off to get some stew
When a blonde just in from Denver
Took my mind off you..

Had dinner at the café
I heard all about her life
But then I came back to you 
And drove off in the night ..

Long black ribbon---here I am 
This is what I do 
I jam some gears and grind some teeth 
Then I roll all over you.. 

Life sure has many pitfalls 
And I’m not one to talk 
My home  an eighteen wheeler
And I have no plans to walk

People hear me late at night
With twin stacks both a blaze
The engine begs for mercy
While my eyes are but a glaze

Long black ribbon---here I am 
This is what I do 
I jam some gears and grind some teeth 
Then I roll all over you


I listen to those trucking songs
I hear from town to town 
I’ve made friends with some of those
Who put the hammer down..

And we joke around the truck stops
As we talk about the road
But aint that the kind of place 
To have your story told 

Long black ribbon---here I am 
This is what I do 
I jam some gears and grind some teeth 
Then I roll all over you.. 

Graffiti on the overpass
The artist has come and gone 
As we wish away the miles 
Playing the same ole song

With bloodstains on the asphalt
Seems to be your tattoo
We close our eyes, and go to sleep 
As we keep dying over you.. 

TAG,( Long black ribbon---here I am 
This is what I do) 


Norman Taulbee  2009 © 

Long black ribbon---here I am 
This is what I do
Form:

A Snow Angels Grave

I exhale and i see my breath. Cold air enters my lung's, and fills my chest. Snow falls 
down and lands on my nose. I can feel the darkness, and the night is so cold.
   Up through the snow drift the thorns pierce the night, the ground hidden by snow, 
the winter hides it's life. Tree's are silent as i pass by. The stars blanket the back 
drop, a cold breeze will fly. As i walk over the frozen ground, I'll complete the 
silence, and I'll withold my sound.
   A winterly murder, how the night seem's so dead. A suicidal silence, a frozen 
death bed. I find a soft spot next to a snow angels grave, remnants of a smile, 
proof of the day. The paw prints of life that once searched for food, lays me back, 
and set's the mood. As the moon's beam lights up my dream's, my blanket of white, 
is now a light blue cream.
   The ice that dangles from a tree's limbs, glistens and sparkles, then flickers and 
dims. My thoughts continue as i watch the ice cry, dripping down to the ground, 
followed by the relief of a sigh. As i roll my head to the right i notice the winter owl, 
he gives me a wink, and presents to me a scowl. His wings then open up, and the 
breeze helps his flight, as he then fades away, into the cold dark night. I roll my 
head slowly to the left, enhaling a chilled poisonous breath. My eye's then grow 
wide as i watch the snowflake's die.
   The death of a snowflake is sinfully sweet. It's a very long journey for a children's 
treat. I wonder how the night can be so gentle , when the cold is so sharp, now i 
can hear the gentle sypmhony, of my snow angel's harp. I'll never complain, 
because it helps me to sleep, now this deadly night air, is all mine to keep.
   As i drift away, i take one more deep breath, because now the snow angels gone, 
I'm the only one left. Peaceful.....painful.....soft, innocent night. As my eye's start to 
close, in enters the night
Form:


Shot At

SHOT AT…
Yes I went shooting with some city fellows to the Moonie
We got a place to shoot that had the wild pigs
So we are walking through a crop of something green and blooming
When a porker Boar he charged me, me feet went jig a jig

So I bounced a little 22 bit of lead off his forehead 
He kept a coming, so I dodged to get away
The bullets kept a coming me and the pig kept a dodging
I was zigzagging dodging bullets till the pig he got away

So I said a few words to them the shooters
But they hung back to argue, if the safety was on
Bang , don’t know how I missed you said ol Brownie 
It was pointed at you I fired but I was wrong?

So I stayed behind them after that hehe….Don Johnson


In the seventies i made the mistake of going bush with two city fellas
out near Moonie camping on a property shooting pigs.
So we are out for awhile walking in this timbered area and suddenly I'm
being charged
by a big boar pig so I bounced a poor little .22 bullet off his
forehead and only annoyed him.
So i'm getting out of the way of the pig, to my horror the pig is
chasing me at the gallop,
the two are trying to help me by shooting at the pig from behind the
pig, i'm running a zigzag
race to dodge the bullets never mind the bloody pig. The pig escaped.
Then i'm walking along the two twerps drop back
arguing , "Its still loaded the safetys not on "I hear BANG   don't
know how i missed you Don said Brownie.
Sort of put me off Pigs for awhile.
I come from Dirranbandi and use the sun in the northern sky as a
reference to know which way i'm heading.
always, its how the old time bushman kept track of where he was, a
mile this way etc in your head back track to go home.
When you are young its the thrill of the hunt, old buggers lose interest hey:)

how about that
cheers mate
Don
Form: Rhyme

A Stroll At the Biltmore Estate

The Student

As I strolled upon the green
and take in the breathtaking view of the front lawn
the onrush of winter geese take on the horizon, 
				waking me to my senses.

The silent roar of two lions guard the entrance
the entrance that now greets me from the summer sun as I 			
	and my companion visit the house.

Beneath the opening arch,
the European marble beckons like wishing wells
In an open spring off in the distant countryside somewhere 			
	and I am swaying to and fro in the 				
			summer wind.

The sheer scale of the voyeur overwhelms the senses, 
our eyes filled with sixteenth century tapestries and 			
	seventeenth century bronze sculptures 			
	paralleling Rome, Italy, and France.  

At my right, the chess set of an imperial Frenchmen lay, 
the pawns standing defiant for battle, 
		yet, unmoved they remain as I pass this way.

At my left, a library waits, and I--a deliberate reader--
stand in stupor at the sheer size of the Vanderbilt library
		--my hands, restrained holding back, to read 		
		every book the family ever read.  

I am fascinated at the four-acre facade of American wealth, yet. 
I can say not a word at this engaging portrait of nineteenth century life that now lays before 
me. 
 
But gone are the days
when you could sit and read all day
	--as in the nineteenth century voyeur or library, 
						they say.  

Gone are the days
when the outdoors beckoned the silent look 
			of two players at a game of chess.

Only the memory stands ready, as a friend, 
just as the knight's of Vanderbilt's castle stand guard 
			at the foot of his staircase I climb
				 now trembling for words.

Only it can retrieve these lost fragments
		 of a poet's fragile mind, these books, 
		as I sit on a visit of its estate
				composing a few lines.

Meditation

I entered paradise through the elaborate crevices in my mind
Meditation was the door to the place I had never visited before
I entered a forest and was overwhelmed by the jungle canopies.
The infinite sky was blurred by the overhanging leaves
There is beauty in your psyche
Silence blanketed any semblance of my emptiness
hyper vigilant to the wilderness
my ballet soled shoes touched upon the leafy cushioned path

I found myself kneeling with my finger tips cupped at a glistening pond
Experienced the one and only moment of inner peace 
I looked over to my right, and saw a tiger drinking beside me in the moonlight
His wide eyes bore into mine as his sand paper tongue dipped into the surface like a quill to 
ink
the droplets of liquid silver dripped from his cheeks
It was a moment of compassion, serenity, and harmony
Guardian of tranquility

I acknowledge the gift of insight my brain has concocted today
Shift on my yoga mat, prepare to get lost once again by the power of my thoughts
Inhale, and exhale..
Inhale and exhale
Until my breathing becomes a vehicle
Or rather a spaceship To that fantasy
I am the only adventurer
That has ever ventured to this place
My mission to find my spirit guide
Is my only purpose as my instructor states
Entering the dark entrance to a cave
I called upon my inner conscience asking it what it wants from me
I struggled to concoct the form of it’s shape
It twisted and contorted
From a rabbit to a snake
All the meanwhile the smokey spirals fought to embody imagery of my soul
To a dog, and an eagle
Finally it collapsed into a vaporous heap
And rose from the smoldering grave as a neon techni-colored fireless Phoenix mythical bird
It told me to love myself always
And I would be happy here on earth.
© Laura Hew  Create an image from this poem.

Dont Blame Me For Our Mistakes

you make me think
about the way i am an how i should be
you make me realize the things i do all the rights an the wrongs
you make me wanna change
everyday we spend apart makes me want to spend another day together
i no im not perfect
i no i have my problems
your the reason i am trying to change 
an the reason i will
day by day an little by little
as long as im with you the book we write wont ever skip a chapter
you make my heart beat a little slower an o so much faster
ive learned so much, an forgotten so little
we fight i no
we disagree on a lot i no
we seem to have more downs then ups
an this is my promise these will reverse
with your hand in mine anything is possible
an the closer we get the more im complete
the farther apart the more i dissipate 
abby i wrote this about you
for the words you make me feel are so great
i would have to make a new language to explain 
your the reason im here an for that im grateful
we met at my worst an things have gotten better
i love you so much i think you forget
so i wrote this for you to remember
the things we could be 
an the things that slow us down
as long as were together we will rewrite history 
a new kinda love one i never thought was real
but you've shown be things that are so unimaginable
so unlimitable an so underscribeable 
you really are my one an only
an without you i feel as if im less than nothing
i just hope our future together will show you im right
a million years with you to me feels much more that right
an even if we end
id like you to no
every memory we've shared 
makes me feel like you are my home
not this apartment but one of our own
abby i love you, an never wish you will go.



but she did.
© Ian Hughes  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Agent Arkansas 90766 Beta Part 8

BETA’s sense of nervousness in Agent Arkansas was triggered and BETA, being the nosey
robot he is, asked why.

Agent—I’m fine. I just have a weird feeling about this?
BETA—Why?
Agent—I just feel like I’m supposed to go here- like its fate…
BETA—I cannot say I know how you feel, although I understand that this quest of yours to
find inner peace has driven you, and I can see that you’re on to something big. 
Agent—Wow, that’s deep of you “Bates”.
BETA—…Take this left and we have arrived…

Agent pulled up to the town center and looked around before he went in. The people walking
seemed so happy, even when the town is so close to a city at war. He walked in to the
building and looked for a terminal. The only reason he found one is because it made a loud
noise and alerted “MESSAGE WAITING”.

SENT: 7-18	BY: UNKNOWN	

SENT TO: TERMINAL 346246 NU-CORREN


I DON’T KNOW WHO I AM WRITING TO, BUT MY NAME IS PETER AND I’M TWELVE. I’M IN THIS PLACE
AND I NEED HELP. THE ASSOCIATES ARE LOOKING FOR ME AND THEY CAUGHT THE OTHERS WHO ESCAPED.
IF YOU ARE READING THIS I NEED HELP. PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE. I WANT TO GO HOME.

Agent read the message and read again until he knew what he should do. -BETA never said a
word. Agent walked out of the building and searched the town for someone who knew about
this boy Peter… No one had any idea- except one man: a homeless cripple who lived outside
an office building near the town center. He gave Agent some advice: “You didn’t run from
your problems- you ran for what is right- Don’t make the mistake I did”. This man had did
some wrongs to the Associates and paid the price. Agent didn’t stick around very long- He
was on a mission.

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