Long Boarding Poems
Long Boarding Poems. Below are the most popular long Boarding by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Boarding poems by poem length and keyword.
The father who loses a son
The lover left all but alone
The child who loses a dog
The clown who loses his nose
The day grandpa fades into the past
The night when the house is no longer there
The lady of the evening anticipating
No one in her boudoir, silence screaming
The season when all the flowers die
The time when war drums beat
My brother who drowned in the sea
His passing became my very own misery
The blind man with no visions
Scavenging for the eyes of the cow
The clouds that made the rain
The villages washed away in pain
The invisible and the black plaques
Humanity in numbers falling prey
The lovely lady in red
Murdered for her diamond ring
The bride to be, in all her glory
Heartbeat stolen in a medical robbery
The singer in the opera
Her tongue cut, cultural slaughter
Teenage lovers, in lustful love
Driving drunk to their graves
The high school queen on display
Later Shivering and no teeth, no graceful ways
The timeless horrors of age
That shall capture the balance of us happy souls
Lest we forget the dead born
Losing the chance to shed even one tear
Strangers all, I promise we shall meet
The final boarding call, the graveyard is terminal C
When you stare into a stranger’s eye
Remember these wistful ponderings
We all have suffered loss and pain
The smile and compassion you offer to all
Never shall this be in vain
I had not woken from sleep.
Feeling weightlessness I peeked,
observing my body laid decease.
Slowly arisen to uncalmly peace,
realizing that I had passed in sleep.
Abnormal emotions so confused.
A nightmare I wished true.
I went to bed with just the flu.
awaken briskly surrounded,
by a warm aurora train like vessel,
hovered beyond me.
with an anointing ticket calling my name,
speaking softly a compelling phrase.
Telling me, don't be afraid,
welcome aboard Elysium Lane.
A Sheppard without sound, the ticket,
spontaneous guiding my mind,
telepathically answers my thoughts.
Had I known, I would have prepared.
For this departure I wish to be spared.
Thinking for heaven’s sake,
someone had made a mistake.
Soon to be sixteen, I am too young,
so many goals left undone.
too soon, my life flashes in review.
Mom, dad and siblings what to do?
Soon forced to accept unwelcome news.
The strain to them for boarding this train.
Joy not for sad skies to be gained.
Oh God the pain!
Who's to blame for such a mistake?
It's not my time, let me escape.
I'm not ready; they are not prepared.
Unscheduled departures never seem fair.
Leaving without a goodbye.
Is an incomplete sentence so unclear.
To question who, what and why,
I was scheduled at this time.
No reasons can be given, nor to explain,
the guided ticket to ease the pain.
It may seem unscheduled and a skewed,
But this departure is on time for you!
There is nothing to argue, no one to blame,
You are on the manifest to board this train,
to leave, so aboard please!
As I crossed the threshold on to the train.
A calm resonates into Godly hood I became,
at once relieved from all pain.
The lighter I feel the ease to go gets brighter.
My awareness flares so bright and clear,
as if blind, and now seeing for the first time.
I'm okay, Its okay,
I have reached divine!
Wish to view my parents knowing,
that I am fine and now I see.
What seemed to be unscheduled,
was meant to be!
I Am NOT An Angry ANON,
just a very angry recently informed man.
There will be guns world wide aiming at yours truly,
along with over one million other citizens of my country.
sometime in the very soon future I guarantee,
because we are all on our government's watch list,
which claims that all of us, including me, are all suspected terrorists.
Now Think About That For A Moment Everybody.
Our Government's Terrorist Watch List Has Over 1 Million, OVER One Million,
Suspected Terrorists Living In The USA, My Country!
We have more suspect terrorists in any given area internationally,
and all are legally born, but also very outspoken brave American citizens,
and my government knows that I and all of they, Will Never Be Silenced,
We Are Legion,
We Do Not Forgive Or Forget Crimes Against Humanity And Treason.
We Refuse To Live In A World Government Ruled In Any Dictatorial Fashion.
We Will Not Rest, We Will Always Be Relentless
We Will Continue To Expose The Truth Of Your Evil Plan To All Regardless.
I DON"T CARE,
That You Have Placed Me On The Terrorist Watch List!!!
.. even though the following could very well be my fate one day,
an enemy combatant detainment camp, where I'll live the rest of my days,
along with all who were included with me on your "DISSIDENT" Watch List.
You Will Never Silence Us All, especially this loud mouthed son of a witch.
All these True Patriots on your god forsaken list,
Will continue to fight you tooth and nail, We Will Always Resist!
To all you global bankers, heed very seriously this message,
All Of You Who Orchestrate My President, And All Of Congress,
I And All Who Are On That Ridiculous Terrorist Watch List,
Aren't Going Anywhere.
Expect Us.
I Am NOT ANONYMOUS,
but I would lay down my life for those True Patriots.
*
A little something all can share with the rest;
If your flight boarding pass displays an SSSS,
congratulations, you have joined the rest of us
on The Homeland Security Terrorist Watch List.
(Secondary Security Screening Suspect)
THE REBEL ARTIST Why do you paint pictures of silent days?, Lonely roads, lonely streets; of beggars groping their way, holding hands to each other, making beggarly music to awake crushed passions. Is this your country? Once flowing with milk and honey! Now a beggar, begging from those he once fed! Independence Day? In those days, we trekked far from hinterlands to freedom square, expectations high against odds to receive golden salutes from heroes past...Those days of innocence, when civilization slapped us in the face...when euphoria of this treacherous sovereignty beclouded us not to see this end that comes... Why, Rebellious Artist, why do you paint pictures of baby-strapped women saddled with loads, why images of riotous youths, corpse-Iittered streets. Paint pictures of these green-white flowers, adorning our great country. Paint him, our man, the president. Oh! It was beauty last night glistening all over the Aerodrome as he beaded farewell to his countrymen, boarding the air to Saudi Arabia!
From my perch with a mountain view I try to understand
what this site was like when only the Cherokee roamed the land.
I have an affinity for indigenous people…their culture…
the way they looked at life…and living…
How they understood we are all a part of the land
and the value they put on sharing, community and giving.
They understood everything on this Earth is equal…no one portion is greater…
and how the entire universe shares in the immortal perfection of its Creator.
The way they lived, the way they worshiped, the unique way they thought
If only we had let them be our guide…
They had so much to teach us…
instead…we callously brushed them all aside.
We threw them off the only land they ever knew….
We were barbarous, merciless and cruel…
We tried to change the essence of who they were….
We took their children and sent them off to boarding school.
Where to their parent’s and these innocent children’s sorrow and surprise,
they were forever changed by they way they were mistreated, abused, and brutalized.
But as I sit in a cabin that sits on what once was Cherokee land….
and rue the way those before us have sinned…
I can still feel the Cherokee presence in the trees….
still hear their messages floating on the wind.
To those who have forgotten, disregard or never listened to their message…
It’s not too late to start…
There is still time to walk tall as the trees
live as strong as the mountains
and keep the warmth of the Sumer sun in our hearts.
We cannot go back and change the mistakes we made in the past
that course of history has run…
but if we heed the messages still clinging to the trees
still floating on the wind…
we can begin make the future …a better place for everyone.
What makes the hiking up mountains more striking?
What makes the driving more fun than arriving?
What makes the ocean-ing worth the sun lotioning?
Gear!
Gear makes the biking much more to my liking,
Gear makes the camping way less spirit-damping,
Gear makes the gardening less callous-hardening,
Let's hear it for Gear!
Now softball-leaguing is way more intriguing,
Now boogie boarding is much more rewarding,
Now even jogging feels less like a flogging,
3 cheers for the Gear!
Titanium! Spandex! Aluminum! Latex!
Hi-tech! All-weather! Light as a feather!
No wonder I struggled for many a year -
I had not the wherewithal to buy the gear!
This broken down bench, it’s wheels have come off,
Sits rusting alone in the park,
With me its one friend, in the cold clear of night,
Sitting alone in the dark,
Talking of our life of ruin and age,
How we’ve both been pushed from the ride,
How we’ve both been rejected, forgotten, thrown out,
Both of us pushed to the side,
And this broken down bench speaks volumes to me,
How it’s bigger than ever before,
This broken down bench inspires me to grow,
It inspires my mind to restore,
Back to the man I was before boarding the ride,
It inspires me to get up and stand,
And be like this great, broken down bench,
And be noble and proud and grand.
Maybe i should become a toad,
And lurk in the british embassy.
Among the chairs and heart-broken files,
Sitting on millions of deflowered flies.
Then when they're boarding the plane
Will i hop and hop towards them.
And as they often do to me
Will they ignore and erect their attention.
And then will i climb the stairs,
And saunter till i get up there.
And beneath one of their shoes
will i shelter. That my safety can
in Joyful dreg abound. Then as
The plane takes off,will i be
elated,to behold Washington.
But what if he steps on me?
What if...? What will i do?
If i am a Jelly-Fish,
Glowing in pride beneath the sea.
And my existence is special,
To tamkalash and all disgusting folks?
Then will i swim from Nigeria,
To different parts of the world.
And as the dawn dawn will i
transform,when Washington is
Wrought in my sight.
But what if a wanderer wanders
to my path,coupled with his prey holder,
To withheld breath from me?
What if he catches me in his net?
What if...? What will i do?
Oh i know! I'll bid my worms.
Till i become an eagle.
And i'll soar and soar from
coast to coast,ridges to ridges,
Hills to hills,mountains to
mountains,valleys to valleys,
stream to stream and after
the long and streneous adventure.
Will i be elated by glittering roads,
flowered streets,virgin cars,
pleasant houses,gorgeous damsels,
diligent Juveniles,rigid electricity.
Boasting companies- Washington's regalias.
Then will i mount on a fig tree,
And transform to the real me.
And measure the beauty of the land,
With my heart,eyes and hands.
But what if as i soar in pride
My rival denies me of my stand?
What if her air blows pass me
And press breath out of my heathen draws?
Or if a egg-bellied littlun,
Fed with curry goats points his arrow
To make of me a fun?
What if he aim at me?
What if he aimed right?-
Heaven forbid!,stop thinking that way.
But what if?
What if....? What will i do?
But of onething i'm i sure,
And to my moistured heart is it pure.
That before the death of this year,
Loose the knot,i'll be there!
17:26:08:20:43
A harried beginning to the start of the day, running behind schedule, headed to the city to deliver medical records for a law suit, in the city.
Boarding a crowded bus, I took the only available seat, next to a young woman. She asked where I would be getting off? I replied, “Legal Building”, she said, “so am I”. As the bus approached our destination, it came to an abrupt stop; unsteady from being thrust forward, she held onto me.
Working our way through the ‘standing’ passengers, awkwardly moving toward the exit, still clutching my arm, feeling anxious and impatient, I looked up at her, wanting her to release her arm; I realized she was blind. She revealed that her blindness was due to the severe impact of a serious car accident.
She asked me what the day looked like. I had not given much thought about the day, except for the responsibilities, that lie ahead. With a lump in my throat, swallowing hard, I paused, searching for the right words for her to see, with my eyes and her memory.
Clouds floating on a celestial sea,
headed for exotic places,
beyond imagination, drifting aimlessly.
Their lofty sails puffed out like pillows,
catch the wily wind that gently prods and billows,
slowly transforming, creating a disguise,
becoming cats, and rabbits and dragons that fly.
Stealthy and reticent, helmed at a steady pace,
the sun in the east, the wind at their back,
Sailing in beauty and grace.
In her sweet and gentle voice, thanked me for sharing the magical beauty of the day. It occurred to me, I never realized my gift of sight was impaired; a blind person gave back to me, what I took for granted.
As we ascended the steps, documents securely in my bag, arm and arm we entered the office together.~
Haiku:
The blind see clearly,
There is vision without sight,
Memories unfold
Love in the moon! Love in the moon!!
Me and my lady
About to make a history
Oh what a beautiful memory
She got me singing melodies
She's my harmony and everything.
We went shopping our favorites
Ready for our vacation
Boarding a private jet
From Nigeria to Tokyo
From Tokyo to Bahamas and then
To Brooklyn, New York United States
Visiting our favorites places
Eating our favorite dishes.
Woke up to her breath
Her lips against mine
Sex all day and night
Rounds after rounds
Like it a marathon
She keeps asking for more
In the bathroom, balcony, kitchen and more
Singing praises of me
You're absolutely awesome my one and only.