Long Auto Poems
Long Auto Poems. Below are the most popular long Auto by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Auto poems by poem length and keyword.
Fatima my best friend was a women of grit and courage
trekking and mountaineering were her hobbies
she was exact opposite of me
One late evening back from work she was left alone in bus
there were four male passengers besides her
all four of them together tried to assault her
she fought bravely with all strength she could muster
pushed three of them out of the bus
and somehow managed to jump out
Broken leg full of pain she still caught an auto and came back home
First to doctor, then to police station
She refused to rest
At the court room she asked for the convicts to be brought in front of her
Looking at their eyes she recounted all that happened shamelessly
Then she looked at judge and roared like a lioness
How can anybody prove attempt to rape tell me?
Is it not unfair to ask a rape victim to testify she was assaulted?
How can court expect her to remember it all when she was busy fighting for her life?
I have no evidence except my broken legs and pain and anguish
She fell down unconscious
.
Case was judged in her favour.
She was a strong women indeed
Can you hear the pitter patter
Of the rain on my roof?
Can you hear the water splatter,
And the dog that goes 'woof'?
Can you hear that auto go by?
And the bike that zooms through?
Can you hear the thirsty land sigh,
As it laps the rain, dew?
Hearken! The tinkle of a laugh!
The rustle of a leaf,
The quiet mooing of the calf,
The weeping willow's grief;
Can you hear the crunch of the land,
When the lorry crushes?
Hearken to honking horns' bandstand,
As the traffic rushes;
Hearken! A baby crying far!
Music playing nearby!
How wonderful all these sounds are!
How do they gratify!
In the southern land of cotton, corn, hay, and beans,
where it seems that through clouds and rain, the sun also beams;
There's always a place to steal away and feel the rays of blues.
Of course, it doesn't take much stealing away. It's just that some
like to mix it up a bit with solar rays laced with energy tones.
Hot, humid, and rainy, are a great recipe for common southern pain.
You will see and understand it plainly in the evening news.
There are blue skies and white clouds, but the atmosphere is also
kind of blue. I've known it to be that way since the day I was born.
And although much has changed in the last 50-plus years, much is also the same.
Many attitudes have changed, but no one can tell much about what's going on in their hearts, because the atmosphere all around embraces one and makes them feel kind of blue. I must confess that the blue I felt 60 years ago must be in competition with the none blue that I picked up out west or up north, and although it's still kind of blue, it doesn't pain me nearly as much as it did when I was just a kid.
Moreover, I hasten to say that there is more to southern land than feeling kind of blue, and I experienced it personally twice within a few short months of my return. It's duly called Southern Hospitality, and there is no doubt that it is indeed the real McCoy. I was new in town and in search of the DMV. I was growing impatient until I came to realize to my surprise that there were
two DMV offices-one for driver's licenses and one for auto registration.
Finding myself at the wrong office, I requested directions to the one I needed. The young man refused to give me directions. He simply said, "Follow me". It happened again as I was in search of a certain grocery store. She too refused to give me directions but simply said, "Follow me".
Blown by Atlantic wind and sail in chains
once were ragged souls like chattels branded -
from the Guinea Coast to old Port of Spain
African herdsmen on slave ships landed.
From my father’s car I saw the canefields
where slaves cut from cyan-see to cyah-see.
Where long ago men of burden stooped and kneeled
my father would stop to cut cane for me.
Now broke are those fetters of time and fate
in that dark and soulless age of tyranny,
and I in old plantation, horse yard and estate
on his fold-out walking stick seat sat his knee.
In its powerdrive push-button auto as a lad
I rode the hills and streets of old Trinidad -
in that big pale grey Plymouth Fury I swear
I saw ghosts of the mills and the ploughshare.
Written: December 2009
I was liken a race car driver, while on the tracks of life my spiritual self just keep on running and running and running and running and running and running, running.
My physical body just tried of the days on things. Bored to life with all the complex trappings. My body in a bind, this world not treating me very kind.
And I rely on myself to get me out of this mess. And to my surprise I just stopped and got out of this world car. Stop the pains of traveling around and around racing defacing myself… got a breath of the wind. Found myself surveying;
put the car in park
got out of me start praising
now walks in heaven
now walks in heaven
where there's no pollution none
no spiraling drones
life's racing autos
running running in circles
car now placed in park
my needs now get out
got out of me start praising
now walks in heaven
9/4/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
You call her a mother; she lives on earth
I sensed the level of her duty
With due regard of honour, she: a mirth
I call her the murdered yet a beauty
All the pains of living for another
All mothers living a life bewildered
Many flee near when they could not further
Physical absence but present blizzard
None is worth to cause her forget her wards
Of all is to strengthen her course the more
Never for once cease coming afterwards
Peace be unto all mothers in this war
Laughing out loud to play with her children
To make all smile even she cries inside
Taking unto challenges through the glen
To make you cope with stress when so distressed
The auto strength of the beauty goddess
Get not exhausted till the last breath drop
The grace that fuels her willing sacrifice
Makes her feel better handling each sound flop
God bless all mothers and mothers to be
To eat plentiful the fruit of their labors
Cause thy favor to shine on all, I plea
And turn around a new leaf the sabres
Happy mother's day!
© 2020
® Olábòsóyè Wèmímó Oláolúwá
I was forty something years old when this happened to me,
Yet, when I think of it the feelings engulf and overwhelm me like no others.
I think this is how it is when the feelings are sad and bad, and you have been victimized.
Especially at the hands of a teacher.
I was in a great mood that day, in a hardware store, buying supplies to play with in my yard.
Maybe humming, in such a great mood.
I felt someone watching me in line.
I turned.
There was an elderly woman there, smiling.
I started to tremble.
All over.
Even my face shook.
I was an immediate mess,
I put down all of the items I had been planning to purchase,
Walked out of the store on auto-pilot, and got into my car.
Trying to remember what I had forgotten for over thirty-five years.
Trying to remember where I had seen this diabolical smile before.
Her name came to me immediately.
The meanest teacher I had ever had.
So horribly mean to me, I had never forgotten it, or gotten over it apparently.
Written 10-03-2018 Poetry Contest: Remembering What I Wanted to Forget
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
For the last fifteen years, I’ve gotten red in the face
I could scream bloody murder every time I get it
I can’t believe that our congress can’t pass a law
to throw these people in jail if they don’t quit it
I have tried many times to call someone about it
but it seems to be useless and to no avail
I’m talking about how every day I get bombarded
with a never-ending supply of junk mail
These past few years there’s been one consolation
at least we will no longer have to kill a tree
Because now with just a push of one tiny button
they can send their junk to a million people like me
So now I get texts and calls on my cell phone
people wanting to be my Facebook friend
So many fake e-mails, click baits and phishing
I guess there will never be an end
If I don’t act right now I will lose my chance
to get my auto warranty renewed today
My Social Security has been compromised
give us your bank account and get this grant right away
Foreclosure scams, identity theft,
let me do your taxes for you
I’ve grown bald from pulling my hair out
I just don’t know what a person is to do
But I guess what amazes me the most
is no matter how many times we are warned about it
There are people in the world so gullible
that they will still fall for all their
Hey man I’ve just won the lottery
they’ll deposit into my account right quick
I’ve been asked to donate to some fake charity
so many times, it’s enough to make me sick
planning
The other day Anna created a Pinterest board of wedding ideas (Cheesy, she knows). “It’s time to hop on the bandwagon,” she said. She insists every other girl she’s aware of - except her weird Yale roommates - has one.
We think her girls back home (in Oregon) - who didn’t go to college, are matching up with the Larrys and Gregs who stayed home to become auto mechanics and carpenters - and are now serially getting married. This trend seems to be exerting an odd, psychological pressure on Anna.
“You may be jumping the gun,” Sophie observes.
Anna’s never even had a long-term boyfriend before, but she wishes she had one now. A part time BF anyway, because who has time for more? Anna is self-proclaimed awkward with guys, especially cute ones.
She created a tinder account and uses it to see how many matches she can get - but she refuses to meet any guys there because she says she’s not “desperate.” She thinks everything about tinder screams awkward, unless people are just hooking up there - and that idea, in her mind, is absolutely disgusting.
saving the planet
Late last Friday night, a graduate friend of Peter’s threw a party at his house - far from campus. The house was packed with people and the music was thumping, the crowded rooms jumping - practically humping - in time to a Sacramento horror punk band called “The cramps" that was playing on loop.
I made it through the living room mob to the kitchen, which was oddly empty and well lit. There was a disheveled girl gripping the island bar with one hand, like we’re on a rocking ship, while trying to light a cigarette with the other. I gently wangled the lighter from her - so she didn’t set her hair on fire - and gave her a light.
Afterwards, I slipped the lighter into her skirt pocket, and noticed half the island had coke spilled all over it. “I gave it a drink,” she said, slurring and wavering on her feet, “it looked thirsty.”
That’s when I noticed her now-empty rum and coke cup next to a soaking wet little cactus plant, two ice cubes now lodged in its dirt. I reassured her as I helped her onto a chair, “you were saving the planet.”
Aceite essa Chamada
Hoje e sempre
Aceite essa chamada!
Hoje e sempre;
podemos muito.
Sempre dobre as expectativas.
Estime as pessoas.
Tenha carinho com os negócios.
Espere pelo melhor.
Mantenha elevada a auto-estima
Busque abrir as portas da oportunidade para nossas crianças,
Rumo a restaurar a prosperidade nas pessoas do mundo.
OH!
O sonho
a meta são realizar
mais,
com menos
– fazer a diferença hoje e sempre.
Esta é nossa oportunidade
de responder a esta chamada.
Este é o nosso momento.
Esta é nossa vez.
O caminho de outubro será longo.
A subida será íngreme.
Podemos assumir o compromisso
sim, conseguiremos!