Long Backtrack Poems
Long Backtrack Poems. Below are the most popular long Backtrack by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Backtrack poems by poem length and keyword.
I need to get a box to hold the pieces of my life together. Because they're falling out of place awfully fast. Every day I look into the mirror and ask myself, how much longer can all this possibly last?
Does it even really matter anymore?
It seems like the more I try the harder I fail.
So why not just ignore my problems?
It's so easy to pretend that they are not there.
I close my eyes and just keep running,
But where ever I go, there they wait.
Should I lose my life, or take one?
Tell me what difference would it make.
I tire of this endless struggle, especially while the consequences keep building up.
By the time it's finally over I will have succeeded
At once again royally ing up.
I stop to backtrack my fading footprints,
Looking for where I wandered off.
All I ever wanted was to be happy...
I guess happiness lies further off than I thought.
I slowly lost my faith
Joy I now believe is just a myth.
I've searched my entire life and have found nothing. Like chasing a Unicorn-
They don't exist!
South Of The (United States) Border...
(Reigns A Welter Of Disorder)
Caravans comprising multitudinous
peoples plodded a steady course
analogous to iron filings drawn by
strong magnetic force
gravitational pull generated
by North America
an irresistible source,
which tug felt
nearly all the way round
webbed wide world beckoning
for waves of humanity
figuratively donned as spawning fish,
toward which currently dimming
beacon of democracy flickr
Trump might extinguish
though tis quite heart
breaking to experience
vicariously as one collective soul,
these desperate folks
ambitious to seek asylum,
(and eventual citizenship),
while this "FAKE" president
invents many a...holy SMOKES
outrageous, nefarious, and malicious
dagger o type cruel barbed wire
accusing, condemning, and emasculating,
(I could continue),
but ye dear reader would tire
unless individuals
affected by xenophobia
countenance same stance
as Commander in Chief,
or contrariwise some
like minded
thinkers, rack coon sitter
the migrant situation dire,
would effectively serve me
as preaching to
the Unitarian choir,
yet any sensate
person must admit
tis quite upsetting, lamenting,
and agonizing to witness
hordes of persons treated like
some pestilential
eyesore dagnabbit,
yes this chap can
endlessly spout flibbertigibbet,
though thee crux of my opinion,
inspires a poem express
sing supportive emotions
particularly acknowledging,
how these masses (thousands)
of vulnerable individuals
show true grit,
nonetheless yours truly,
would be hard pressed
for an immediate
humane solution to corral
this extensive kit
and caboodle, though this generic guy
with a poetic knack
shakes his noggin
watching armed flack
delivered from border patrol agents/
United States military, lack
restraint, and who outright attack
trespassers at point
blank range that pack,
a deadly (Judge Judy ish
huss) punch smack
king young ones
upside the head forcing
everyone to backtrack
to their homeland of
persecution by crack
headed gang members, which thugs
violently land a deadly whack!
Tired body aches. Long walk on starry night -
ears attuned for bear at creek, or cougar.
Nothing, not a doe.
But that afternoon
came upon a healthy young buck in a meadow.
High up. And a hawk left a feather for me.
Old, old stands of lodgepole pine, grey bark
like wrinkled hides of elephants. Thick carpet
of dead needles.
Thirst. Sit at snowbank
for an hour eating snow. Burn tongue.
To soon after stumble upon a pond and the place
that a creek springs from the mountain. Water
indescribable. Eat ravenously and drink deep
gulps.
Climb highest rocky peak at dusk. Razor-back
ridge. Mother hawk scream nearby. Must
backtrack and then go straight down near dark
feet fall through layers of scrub pine, hands
grab for the live stalks only support against
broken bone.
Choose steep narrow bed of loose rocks,
surely waterfall in some other season and descend
on ass and all fours, feet first always fearful
it will end in an uncontrollable hundred foot drop.
Trickles of water nearing bottom.
Cracked hands,
raw behind, cross final snowbank and attain road
along Snake Creek.
How unappealing... the missus went bananas
courtesy hurling mandarin oranges.
Yes quite juvenile
unladylike childlike behaviour,
mine wife oft times doth display,
I do not deplore
yours truly reckons
tis futile effort causing furore
aye attest bull
in china shop incorrigible hardcore
exhibited by spouse
out of bounds antics bon jour
earlier within marriage
shenanigans twas the stuff
back in the day
sparking altercations, haint no lore
regarding wedded bliss
muddle aged doozy storied
married couple expressing
mutual love nevermore
did deux disparate
birds of a feather flock together
espousing total mortal kombat
(with looming fruity weapon
of mass destruction
living below poverty dirt poor
surviving (barely) hand to mouth
unable to afford
top of line high grade
clean atomic bombs rapport
re: ruining our reputation
as hoity toity main liners
portraying child's play
conflicts in East/West Timor
almost annihilating each other
i.e. zee Harris family
plus well nigh turning
planet Earth into vapour.
Sober realization of brinksmanship
brought now auld
geezers (defanged & harmless)
flinging foodstuffs cold
and/or frozen leftovers
(carbon dated), petrified extolled
as delicacy among Neanderthals,
who would value and
cherish fruit lobbed as
love's labour's lost more precious
(as a physical expression of affection)
more so than fine spun gold
thee rented man cave serves
atavistic trait hard rock cafe
functions as pleasant reminder,
where one percent genetic
stock originated (think noggin
rock hard iron maiden mold).
Backtrack to years spanning 2000-2010
wen furious red hot poker rage
twas unmanageable when living
under duress within Penn Valley
even tranquilizers could not assuage
harkening back when yours truly
under threat courtesy battle ax
and her henchwomen,
which matriarch took immediate dislike,
née rabid (foaming
at the mouth loathing)
towards yours truly
them days outright state
of undeclared warfare
found fury within me
exceeding the wrath of Kong!
Thank dog, I mellowed since then
gratuity prescription medication.
A HEARTFELT ACTION
It was a bitter, gloomy, windy day,
The sun didn’t show us even a ray
It was raining buckets of torrential rain
A vendor stood shivering and in pain
With only a t-shirt on his back,
We were cozy, we did a backtrack,
My father jumped out of the warm car,
The sorrowful human being wasn’t far
Picking up stubs, smoking, had no packet
Dad ran in the rain taking off his jacket,
Helped the drenched man to put it on,
So he didn't think my father was a con,
Oh what a darling Dad I had, such a kind
Soul, a heart of gold, and a thoughtful mind!
He put a hundred rand in the man’s pocket,
He noticed his eyes were deep in their socket,
The vendor was shocked his silence a thank-you
My father nodded, he was touched, for he knew!
Entering in competition: Kindness
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
05 June 2020
My planets evolve around you
Like the triumphant sun in the spacious galaxies
My regrets dissolve away too
Like rock, reduced to pure crystal sand at ease
Chasing after you like a shooting star
In the moonlit, scarlet-black sky
You’re going so far, so far, so far, so far
I will admit — I am obsessed with you can’t lie
Can’t deny
Control it, the feelings that ruin me
Control it, the emotions that dare break me
I want to break free
I feel sad, no room for glee
My planets evolve around you
Around you, around you, oh so true
As if you’re my sun in the galaxies of the universe
Is life a gift or a curse?
I dream of tragedy in reverse
Let’s see what cheerfulness I can rehearse
My heart pounds like drums at nightfall
And I’m unstoppable like a runner on the ball
I’m capable of being stronger than I realize and all
Troubled, disturbed and struggling in a free-fall to stand tall
Chasing after you like a shooting star
In the moonlit, scarlet-black sky
You’re going so far, so far, so far, so far
I will admit — I am obsessed with you can’t lie
Can’t deny
Control it, the feelings that ruin me
Control it, the emotions that dare break me
I want to break free
I feel sad, no room for glee
My planets evolve around you
Around you, around you, oh so true
As if you’re my sun in the galaxies of the universe
Is life a gift or a curse?
I dream of tragedy in reverse
Let’s see what cheerfulness I can rehearse
It’s your turn to love me back
If not, back away from me
If not, be gone and let me backtrack
Back to the future of liberty
My planets evolve around you
Around you, around you, oh so true
As if you’re my sun in the galaxies of the universe
Is life a gift or a curse?
I dream of tragedy in reverse
Let’s see what cheerfulness I can rehearse
People are looking for a reason,
they don’t want to backtrack;
When an environment is toxic
they indulge in a new pandemic;
People are looking for something more
give them something to work for;
Take away the motive
you’re left with a constant ‘Why?’
When you create a cyclone
it inevitably spins out of control;
An employee shortage
stems from a shortage of soul;
It’s a new dance
one I am willing to learn,
Maybe if we do it with some purpose,
it will create a little more love;
Come back to a memory?
Eyes weren’t made to look back;
The environment is toxic;
A shortage of soul, the new pandemic.
I am a baker in a quaint, small town,
for my artisan breads the people come ’round,
Tuscan and baguettes by the dozen are sold,
but most people come here for my Gender Rolls.
I came up with them on a cool day last year,
a batch I’ve been baking had come out all weird,
some came out all golden, slight and petite,
others were brown, all bulked and manly.
Specialization will move the product,
so I fiddled, until a stroke of luck:
feminine rolls that were soft, light and sweet,
masculine rolls, tasting strongly of meat.
The female rolls were a joy to look upon,
but they went bad quickly, best eaten when young,
the male rolls had flavors bold and very strong,
many were eating only them before long.
And that’s where the trouble truly began,
that male rolls sold better some would not stand,
they said the female rolls should get a leg up,
that I undersold them, did not make enough.
Other people got mad that I had the gall
to assign gender to dinner rolls at all,
they said it was a form of sexist abuse,
and that I should let the dinner rolls chose!
What if the dinners rolls did not fit well,
what if trying to be a gender was hell?
That said the it was presumptuous of me,
what if the roll identified as taffy?
I did not at first believe they were for real,
that they were just snowflakes, shouting their ‘feels,’
until the day they blockaded my store,
then staged a ‘die in,’ lying on my floor!
The easiest route would’ve been to backtrack,
but a man like me just ain’t wired like that,
so I posted a sign, this ‘creators’ word,
‘When it comes to rolls, there are just two genders.’
Some warned that this would destroy my sales,
but to this day I sell them all without fail,
the Red Pill crowd can’t get enough of it,
what can I say? Gender Rolls are a hit!
Order now and I will custom carve the male or female symbols into you batch. No extra charge!
An easy type of quilting
Is to sew two fabric squares
Which are pinned and lined up neatly;
Nothing else, for ease, compares.
Once you make the shapes more complex,
Like a triangle or curve,
Things might get a little tricky
And you need a bit more nerve.
I’ve been sewing several years now
And still have a way to go,
For when stitching points or circles,
There’s a lot you have to know.
Curves have always proved a challenge
And frustration is no fun.
Every time I had to sew some,
I would backtrack to square one.
But I’ve lately had a breakthrough,
Which I hope my brain preserves,
For my latest little project
Has a lot of sneaky curves.
Yet I’m tackling them slowly
And they’re falling into place.
Something clicked - you know that feeling?
And a smile is on my face.
Now my project, when I finish,
Will be far from error-free,
But if you check out my curves, I think
That you’d be proud of me.
Oh time marches on
So try to keep pace, oh try
Cause time marches on
Too fast, too slow, it goes by
It leaves without me
No warning given, takes off
It stops despite me
No not now, don't pause I scoff
One or the other
Always opposite of need
Oh how I suffer
Father time ignores my plead
Time, King of the race
I'm afraid its never lost
Seems to be the case
It's not for sale, has not cost
Destiny is all
It's always on time you see
Should answer the call
Don't get caught being lazy
Once it's gone, it's gone
You can never get it back
Say goodbye, so long
No do over, no backtrack
Bittersweet it is
Wanted, but never promised
A blessing it is
A fleeting gift, so priceless
Oh time marches on
So try to keep pace, oh try
Cause time marches on
Too fast, too slow, it goes by