Long Cabs Poems
Long Cabs Poems. Below are the most popular long Cabs by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cabs poems by poem length and keyword.
Now, Railroad Bob has lost his job, he’s got no place for working,
His wife, she cries with desperate eyes, their baby’s head’s a’ jerking.
The union man don’t give a damn, Big Brother lies a’ lurking,
the boss’ in cabs are picking scabs, they count their money, smirking.
A pregnant lass with eyes of glass has never learned to cope.
Once set adrift her fall was swift, she slid a slipp’ry slope -
she casts the Curse, the Holy Verse, and shoots a shot of dope,
and stalks discreet Asylum Street her daily horoscope -
the stray was struck by random truck which was her only hope.
Well, Banjo Boy, with little joy, he strums her life entire:
“The wayward waif was never safe; her stars were dark and dire.
Born midst the rues and avenues where lack and want aspire
where no one heeds the childish needs that little ones require;
where faith survives in tempest lives, a swirl within the briar,
Infinity grinds as time unwinds, until the winds expire.
Her last caprice? The final peace that no one could deny her -
whipped by the flood, stray beads of blood are spattered on the spire;
though beads of sweat are cool and wet, cold clotted blood is dryer.”
Though broken there, she’s fled the snare with dying thoughts serene.
And now she’s dead, the rumours spread: her age? a sweet 16,
with child, unwed, her soul dyed red, her body so unclean.
A place is sought where she can rot, avoiding churchyard scenes,
in limey pits, as well befits, behind forbidding screens;
and all the while a dirge is styled on tattered tambourines
which echo through the human zoo in valleys of the Queens.
Without rejoice, in hissing voice, near soil that’s seldom trod
“In pious role, God bless my soul”, was mouthed with mitred nod,
neath scarlet trim with black, and grim, behind a robed facade -
“She’ll burn in hell and sulphur smell”, spat Priest and man of god.
Well, angels sweet with cloven feet, they sing in girl’s attire,
but Banjo Boy, he’s playing coy while chanting in the choir:
“The clueless search within the church to find what they desire,
but near the nave or gravelled grave, there is no Rectifier.”
And when he’s through, without ado, he stacks some stones nearby her.
Continued
MRS. COLUMBUS SPEAKS
“Hi, honey pie..... just got back from America.”
Wipe your feet. Returned from where?
“Just seen Statue of Liberty and Wall Street.”
You been away for two years and
That’s all you’ve done? Saw a statue and a wall?
We thought you’d be back sooner, but
Mum thought you’d fallen off the edge of the world.
(One of her private wishes come true.)
“Oh, your mother’s off her hinges..... She’s crazy.”
By the way, ’Lumbo, that front door hinge still isn’t fixed:
When you’ve had a cup of tea you can get off your tush and fix it.
“Don’t tell me they’ve got tea from Cathay so soon! Oh no”
That Queen What’s-her-name was here every week asking
For you, thought you’d skipped town
With her three ships or something.
Wanted to know if you’d phoned or emailed me.
I said gimme a break, lady, they aren’t invented yet.
“Well, honey pie, I was in a great city with yellow cabs and subways and.....”
Oh yeah, I’ve heard all these stories about how advanced America is -
Got any photos of the place?
Oh, by the way that mapmaker you got to draw your maps for the trip needs paying.
“Fat chance! The maps were all to hell -
I’m telling you, honey pie, there’s a freakin’ big continent
Blocking the way to Cathay.”
Aw get real, ‘Lumbo, it’s called People’s Republic of China now -
And everybody knows you go east like Polo to get there, you dummy.
“Aw shucks yeah. You know, I kinda thought their
Eyes in America were a bit too round -
And it didn’t sound like Chinese to me ; more like Brooklynese.”
If I was you, ‘Lumby, I would get round to her and give her the ships back pronto.
And don’t give her any of that crapola about “America” -
Just tell her you found a new way to Cathay.
“But I thought you said it was called the People’s Republic of China ?”
Yeah yeah, listen : don’t think, ‘Lumbkins. Just tell her what I said and
Give her the ships back, and get the
Hell back here fast........and you’re not playing cards with
That Da Gama and that crazy Vespucci tonight.
Them filling your head full of spices-and-Indies and god knows what.
You can stay home and fix the door hinge like I told you.
“Ok, where’s the tea? Got any Earl Grey?”
The metropolitan area consists of everything like theaters, museums, restaurants, and a lot of hotels and skyscrapers. But most of all, the cities are filled with public transportation(city buses, subways, trains, taxi cabs, and airports, e.g.) and a lot of luxurious vehicles. Whether anyone is in either New York City, Los Angeles, Dallas, Tokyo, Toronto, London, or wherever, the city is everybody’s lives. It seems that all metropolitan areas are considered awesome vacation spots, even for tourists. The metropolitan areas from the United States of America and the world each have a lot of famous landmarks, especially those of the Gateway Arch, the Empire State Building, the Golden Gate Bridge, Big Ben, etc. All downtown areas are best known for attracting would-be city folks to go to, and that’s a real fact. Well, frankly, all cities from the United States of America and beyond are harder to get away from, even in the Los Angeles area of Hollywood,California. And imagine my surprise when I found out that Downtown Ft. Worth, Texas, has a movie theater and a Barnes & Noble book store. Being from the metropolitan area has its awesome advantages, especially when he or she has been influenced by the hip-hop culture and the urban culture. Well, I guess this is just the essence of urban living. The cities also have cooler downtown apartments in the downtown areas, especially in Dallas and in Ft. Worth. Boy, if I were to visit either Calgary, Alberta, Canada, Venice, Italy, London, England, Charlotte, North Carolina, or wherever, I’d stay there for a week or tow; I’d bring back some souvenirs. I wonder if the cities will still be there and there’s going to be more awesome cities in the future, Well, I guess I’ll never know. We’re all very cool for a bunch of city folks. And when he or she is in the city, it's like driving on the city streets, especially when he or she is driving either a Nissan Armada, a Cadillac Escalade EXT, or one of those BMW vehicles. I’m looking forward to residing in one of the metropolitan areas either out of state or another country, if that were to happen, that would be great.
Am I fitful,
fluctuating, fluid?
thin compass waver
as I jubilantly weave
lilac tree vignettes
that weep or chortle,
rainbow figment curtain
rashly wished upon
in grain smudge zephyr
garnet sand raw vehicle
garden common opal
transit sidestep
to a multiverse
of sappy fruit drip
net bag of niche
mauve rim canopy
a gilt ring culprit’s
flashpoint conjure
stirring taxi cabs
of lavish spurt
woolgathering
a gold rush stray
footslog must
have steel encased.
undulating folds
entangled nomad feint
dwarf yellow scorcher
firmament fatality
dash for straw hut
casita or elm
wood cabin where
advertence on
turnpikes, trails,
woven tracks lead
trajectory abuts
plod along dry path
dust bowl swirling as
they spurn allotments
meek enshrouded lull
with unalloyed poise
to jettison narcolepsy
brief embargo on
spiral plumule
when one’s physique
has many harrowing
gasps, taut breath
that intrinsic quest
for glistening cascade
seems an urgent
void, crushing
diapason rudderless
mahatma clement at
Arcadias nascent
totem of egress
yet charismatic
terminal flag
as this sentient
hypothesiser on
emerald tint bract
beneath hiking boot
unflinching
wild clasp at
beanpole verges
riven from
shade burst cockcrow
lure an impetus
to meandered pretext
primeval boon-docks
whilst tranquil flit
discommoding tawdry
pitch or tilt
gaunt endowment
I must brood on
surreal moiety
of cerebral aspect
squandered
rude reckoning aside
lapse into sullen
vacuum found across
a link whose blind
velvet crush lingers
query later doused
in vapour whirl gush
inkling thin veneer
sheeny beadlet
brow sapped
nod and falter
to a childhood turf
shelter for the limb
victim of grinding
marathon on marathon
to relish glow hue noons
hermetically abeyant
sempiternal eves
avenue to wanderer
fatigued yet still
in broad pursuit
of deep quiddity
Finding Presence
Night sky beckoning dawn
Gentle sensations
Early morning walks
Empty avenues
Central Park breezes
Village cobblestone streets
Wet with glistening reflections
Accompany the seeker’s every move
Citified whispers
Discordant choruses
The street cleaner
The sliding steel-front security doors
Excited canines straining leashes
Open casements echoing emphysema-regrets
Merging with the early morning smells and start-up images
City’s reality mix awakening
Conscious-walking shakes loose somnolence
Opening eyes to the gargoyles atop historic landmarks
Their stoic residence mirrored in all-glass surroundings
Urban growth towering over huddling addicts of all types
Weary of sleepless nights
Enjoined by occasional pouting mannequins
Dressing light-starved windows
Poised to portray tourist-trap knockoffs
Rayon for silk
Fantasy for verity
Predatory “going out of business” choices ubiquitous
Shut down shops—beaten
Barely open shops—clinging
Wanderers drifting listlessly
Rising early by guilty conscience
Some prodding their welfare bodies to move
Others fearing unfaithful one-nighters become known
Old widows lean from their tenement windowsills
Having endured another sleepless night of heat
Too poor to leave the city
Too proud to ask of children
Soon
Sunrise bathes the grayness with color
Subway entrances congest
Yellow cabs begin cacophonous warm-ups
Like an orchestra of out-of-tune instruments
Their blasts are met with the inescapable “Taxi!” “Taxi!”
Deli workers spread cream cheese
Warm Bear Claws
Brew bad coffee
Wish their customers “have a good one”
Keeping secure their jobs
For another day
Returning home
Five flight walk up
One’s feet beg relief from the morning roam
A pull on the carton of OJ
A flip-on of the two-burner
The water to boil
A drop into the drug-from-the-dumpster-couch
Chock-Full-Of-Nuts in waiting
Want ads front and center
A few deep breaths
Just another day
Surviving the city
I did not let it go
To the relationship we had after the staged show
We both watched the curtain go down
And off to a quiet conversation we were bound
“How does that sound?”
I politely asked
Since it was my gentlemen task
I admired you sitting in a respectable way
Listening to what I had to say
But the hour turned late
Ending our lovely date
We said our goodbyes
Taking separate cabs as rides
Morning soon came
You returned to the TV interview fame
While I continued my bachelor game
Until lunch break
That I did take
Escorted my newspaper
That some said made her
Proclaiming next door fun
When the coffee conversation was done
Reading the tabloid back to front
Checking to see if my sporting team was still in the hunt
I came upon the socialite report
Used to be entertaining when defending my lonely fort
Suddenly I noticed a picture of me
Holding a cup of something was brewing tea
For all to see
“Who was I with?”
A star presented as a winning gift
We both had an engaging look
Tempting the reader with its luring still image hook
Smiling I finished my deli entrée
That I used cash to pay
Then my coworkers started to stir
About my appearance with her
“Call her? Ask her out!?”
Was the unison shout
Taking the advice
Since it seemed nice
Realizing no longer was the situation a donation bid
True feelings were not being hid
Made the telephone pitch
Knowing deep down inside in the future we would be hitched
It took some time
For the romantic bells to chime
Leaving us to embrace
With love on our face
And just in case
You wonder
If that promotional event was no blunder
It truly was a success
When she walked down the aisle in her wedding dress
In the first instance under the engine chassis,
Battling complex automobile designs in heat,
Struggles to displays sleek lines in tops delight,
Prayers from bystanders so the car never restarts.
Pay this one for pedestrians joy could serve for long:
Tune this second choice hear suspect toolbox voices,
Jack up the workshop bills while he calls you taxi's,
Nurse your headache as he lightens your bank balance,
Plays with the new car creating coughing modules;
He purrs to your call while the cabs enjoy the runs:
The third internet savvy links his performance,
Climaxes your F I formula breed on first date,
Smiles to trigger shivers down your crumbling spine,
Steps to touch land shying away from the moon shuttle flight.
Aspirant with NASA's body reduction fear:
Hungry fellow the fourth on a three wheeler drill,
Floating long white beard to check directional winds,
Deceiving looks to go straight he watches the right,
A four wheeler to bang around he would learn soon.
Reduced pay if you carry extra big burger's:
Forget the last four I am your best bet with gas,
Even bull carts envy my safe slender fast race,
Hundred miles a gallon 24 miles an hour to pace,
What if I need much tea sips to stay awake.
Veteran of Second World War generation:
The sixth battle weary survivor on the home front,
Can take on drivers in the front or rear attacks,
It is the body heat that makes me real mad,
Good Air conditioning is a must so beware.
Suspended drivers license fellows don't understand:
Last but not the least I am certainly not blind,
At night I don't drive have a wife to satisfy,
She worries about my blind date and kiss of fate,
As it is the bright ones do really scare me.
In the day you could watch the wet roads while I drive:
Throw a dice to bell the selected chauffeur real tight;
Updating your insurance cover would be right.
~~~~~~~~~
Evening skyline
Glow of last light;
Dark shadows creep
~~~~~~~~~
Green moss
Zen garden stones;
Calmness charms
~~~~~~~~~
Antique shoppe
Old proprietor;
Living antique
~~~~~~~~~
Cemetery visit
Angel statues stand
Guardians of death
~~~~~~~~~
Newspaper vendor
Hazards early rain;
Prompt delivery
~~~~~~~~~
World news broadcast
So many conflicts;
Violent humanity
~~~~~~~~~
Children's playground
Noisy little people;
Fun screams and shouts
~~~~~~~~~
Empty taxi cabs
Absent passengers;
Telling times
~~~~~~~~~
Economic woes felt
Here and there;
Poor job market
~~~~~~~~~
Old Kung-fu master
Long solitary wait;
No students come
~~~~~~~~~
Ginseng root brew
Potent tonic;
Energy surge
~~~~~~~~~
City skyscrapers
Over the horizon;
Pouring wet weather
~~~~~~~~~
Speeding carriages
Expressway crowds;
Sudden traffic jam
~~~~~~~~~
Ancient rooftops
Chinese architecture;
Old beauty glimpses
~~~~~~~~~
Morning joggers
On a brisk run;
Sparkling dawnlight
~~~~~~~~~
Old pavilion here
Leaking raindrops;
Wet shelter
~~~~~~~~~
Chinatown alleys
Shops with odd things;
Tourists congregate
~~~~~~~~~
Little India street
Spicy concortions;
Culture in full bloom
~~~~~~~~~
Words tell
Pictures swirl;
New sightings
~~~~~~~~~
Old hunchback lady
Malnutrition showing;
Struggles for pennies
~~~~~~~~~
Old man gathers
Discarded paper cartons;
Money for next meal
~~~~~~~~~
Fortune teller waits
Cards and incense;
Table advisory
~~~~~~~~~
Empty park bench
No one can sit;
Soaking wet
~~~~~~~~~
Cardio fitness
Gym membership;
Workout a sweat
~~~~~~~~~
Old photographs
Long ago moments;
Brown sepia scraps
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
10 September 2014
Singapore
It was stupid of Walt
not to show it to Joan
before they got married
but he was too shy.
He had no idea
what to expect
but he never expected
her to laugh.
Not a laugh exactly,
more of a cackle
children might hear
from a witch on a broom
Saturday morning
in a cartoon.
Joan's laugh rang out
the first night
of their honeymoon.
Walt never got over it.
The marriage was over
even if it continued
for six kids in ten years.
Like many men, Walt
had no problem
copulating from afar
unencumbered by love.
It was dark in the bedroom.
Joan could have been
any woman.
Had he shown it to her
before they got married
and heard that laugh,
he would have left town,
embarrassed, you bet,
but there would have been
no wedding, no kids,
no divorce, no years
in a hotel room mailing
alimony and support.
After the divorce
things didn't improve.
Walt heard the laugh
in his dreams, in cabs,
on elevators, in diners,
everywhere he went.
He heard it after the kids
earned degrees,
got married, did
well on their own,
escaping the pyre
of their childhood.
At Joan's funeral
Walt told the kids why
the marriage had failed.
He said he shouldn't
have shown her
the poem the night
they were married.
She laughed because
she thought it was funny.
She knew nothing
about poetry,
nothing of his
efforts to write it.
This was his first poem,
the first of more than 500
published after the laugh.
Who'd believe a laugh
could end a marriage
before it began?
Over the years Walt asked
critics and editors
for their opinions
about the poem.
None found it funny.
The consensus was
the piece was tragic
in theme and imagery.
The experts were right
in more ways than one.
Donal Mahoney
The air is heavy like a dirty woolen blanket
each colorful strand pulled through the warp.
Horns blare and traffic skids and screeches
as unborn accidents are aborted
by fancy-pants cops.
The city slickers in their posh clothes
zip along toward the outskirts
avoiding those in dirndl-shaped, Polleras skirts
and Monteras hats, as if ashamed,
either of their own roots, or of the neglect.
The road to El Salvador* is long
weaving along rough pacific shore lines
wefting past fishing villages,
and cement factories with tangerine groves,
each lane bringing the colors of modern life.
The oranges, red and pinks of fine fabric repeated
in on the metal surfaces of trucks, buses, and motor cabs.
Each person’s destiny pulled and pushed
by the action of man, earth and tide
forward, ever forward..through
the dunes of Lima’s desert.
The invaders hug the hillside,
thousands upon thousands, of rural poor,
driven from the teat of the mother by earth quakes
and the terror caused by The Shining Path.*
Mao lives on in the upheaval caused by his ideology.
Yet, so does ayni*, the helping hand of neighbor,
the brown-skinned hand, more used
to the bobbin than the gun.
Here they have come in oneness
a finished soul on a back-strap loom,
dyed and drying in the heat
of Lima’s desert
they bloom.
*El Salvador- a shanty-town 45 min outside of Lima
with 350,000 residents. This community was nominated
for a Nobel Peace Prize in 1986 excellence
in social work and community growth
**Shining Path-The Communist Party of Peru
is a Maoist terrorist organization in Peru.[
*** ayni- Quechua culture is centered upon community
and mutual help (“ayni”). Their social system is based
on the principle of reciprocity: helping a neighbor
to be helped in return.