Long Cars Poems
Long Cars Poems. Below are the most popular long Cars by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cars poems by poem length and keyword.
It would be nice if you listened to me,
instead of ignoring my mild requests,
astonishing if you agreed with me for a change,
although no decent resistance would be strange.
Remember the old days when we acquiesced,
now not unusual for things to be second-guessed;
my experience as a game- player was my range,
but to lose nearly every time would be strange.
We had houses, wealth, cars and holidays,
but a battle to prevent the parting of the ways,
even when you drove up the drive to our fancy grange,
an acknowledgement of our success would be strange.
Tolerance is the key - 'He doesn't say much, does he?'
Ironically, keep driving, survival is thanks to me.
When you wake up in the morning
And it's beautiful outside
You spiffy up your Harley
Because you want to take a ride
Your woman gets excited
Because she wants to get a taste
Of her riding on the back seat
With her arms around your waist
You dress up in your leathers
And your belts, boots, and gloves
And you get ready to go riding
On that awesome thing you love
You buckle up your helmets
And put your feet down on the peddle
Then you cruise on down the highway
On your shiny piece of metal
As you're motoring down the highway
With your hands upon the bars
You get looks from all the people
Who are driving in their cars
After a joy ride through the mountains
You then pull up to your home
And you're thrilled because you've been riding
On your pretty piece of chrome
"Long May You Ride"
Dedicated to my friend DanO
Only read this if you have a good understanding of the English language, because it is all about how word spellings differ but for no particular reason.
This write is quite right in that it highlights the height and weight of the great language of English which is no sandwich and not straight forward mate.
(This right is qite wright in that it highlites the hight and waight of the greight langwich of English witch is no sanduage and not strate forward meight.)
We now know that "K" has special powers but not with knot or knock.
(We now K-now that "k" has special powers but not with not or nock.)
And people say Nike-y but they don't ride a bikey, so it's Nike like Mike.
(and people say Nikey but they don't ride a bikey, so it's NIKe LIKE MIKE, or mic.)
While they're unable to get their head around there,
they sit in a chair and stare like a bear, which is spelt like fear and hear but is pronounced no where near, but like fare which is also like bare.
(While there unable to get they're head around their,
they sit in a chere and stair like a bere, which is spelt like fear and hear but is pronounced no where nare, but like fair which is also bere.)
Far away cars on Mars are not said like wars, which for sure is more like bore and I'm assured that board is different to ward.
Warlords have been found to have had people drowned, not dround as it could sound, as the power of their throne has grown to fit their waist and they do not waste their God placed authority or make the mistake that the steak with cheese one grates quakes.
On the whole my soul is on a roll to score a goal with this write, because though words are spelt a different way they are spelt the same when these words we say.
I think I'm done and I've won like the Holy Son, or am shining wholly like the light from the sun.
And to think I had special needs, was labelled dyslexic and had ADHD, oh and as well as that I failed my English exam, twice.
Form:
Police and an Amazing Pet Rescue
Indiana Police received an Emergency Call,
Of animal abandondonment in a terribly hot car.
This is a great reminder for caring, pet owners all!
To not leave pets inside cars, that are hot as bubbling-tar.
Inside, the keys, still were in the red,hot ignition.
Found inside~ a deceased pet bull, found dead!
And a fluffy cat, near death in very critical condition
So pet owners, in summer, please you your head!
There was also a German Shepherd in that ‘car- toaster.’
He survived best, not wanting to die, to be flat as a coaster!
8/3/2024
The earth is revitalized and replenished by 2120.
Gardens of Eden are thriving in warm places.
Beaches are comfortably secluded and pretty.
Pollution and smog are misunderstood words.
After the giant cleanse of 2021, many humans died off.
Giving Gaia an opportunity to thrive once more.
The forests are taller, more wildlife and song birds.
The oceans are clean, filled with larger sea life.
The survivor’s grandchildren have no concept of stress.
Freeway driving is not terrible, for there are less cars.
Working from home is the norm through videoconferences.
All interviewing, weddings, funerals, and school sessions are online.
There is no eight-to-five job; jobs are ten to two, with an hour for lunch.
Research indicated this is much more productive.
The city parks are not crowded; there is no waiting for a swing.
There is always a place for you to go and play.
Meditation is encouraged.
Time for some funnies
Now what shall I write?
About klutzy old Jackles?
Should be a delight!
Been quite renowned
For his blunders at times
Here are a few
Of his more classical kind!
Riding his bike
And passing parked cars
Door opens... a collision...
He falls on his ****!
Floating on icebergs
And under some bridges
Berg disappears...
Water temperature's frigid!
Trying to impress
This acquaintance of old
Talked for a while
Then walk into a pole!
Oblivious, don't notice
While strolling with friends
A crotch high stake...
Doubled over I bend!
They weren't always funny
Well not at the time
Luckily, the injuries
Weren't the serious kind!
Sitting here in rush hour I moan and sigh
Horn’s honk, engine’s rev, a Monday to miss
Birds whooshing overhead as time ticks by
When from below I hear a squealing hiss
The tire! Is murphy's law to blame for this?!
I hop out to check and PLOP! That damn bird!
I pop the hood to a clang, clunk and creak
Was that the beep from the engine I heard?
I grumble and groan, I just want to shriek!
As cars whiz by, what a start to the week....
I start to tinker around when VvvROOM, SPLASH!
Surrounded by traffic rumbling past
One zooms through a puddle, my suit is trash
Coolant sprays up in my face with a blast
First day at the new job might be my last…
July 6, 2022
Onomatopoeia Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet
It was true that I didn't have much ambition, but there should be a place for those without wings,
a better place than the usual one, where dreams flow like rivers at dusk,
how could anyone enjoy being woken up at 6:30 in the morning by an unrelenting clock,
to jump out of bed like a puppet pulled by invisible strings, without a script,
to swallow breakfast on the run, like a river pouring into the sea without knowing its fate,
to go to the bathroom and brush teeth and hair, like a cold, mechanical ritual,
to battle traffic, a chaotic dance of cars and horns on crowded streets,
just to arrive at a place where, essentially, you make a lot of money for someone else,
and you're asked to be grateful that you're allowed to sell your time in pieces.
But where is the place for dreamers, for those who walk unknown and free paths,
a place where mornings are not dictated by clocks, but by the song of morning birds,
where value is not measured in money, but in moments lived in harmony with oneself,
where gratitude is not demanded, but naturally springs from the joy of being and creating,
a place where each day is a blank canvas, and we are the artists of our own destinies.
Black top was miles and miles away
Dirt road as far as you could see
The future just a minute away
Was everything you wanted it to be
Taking our time but not slowing down
Heads in the clouds, bare feet on the ground
Up with the sun, chasing the moon around
Dirt road living with a real country sound
The black top was miles away
The dirt road was here to stay
Or so we thought
In younger days
Hand me down clothes and used cars
Knowing right from wrong wasn’t so hard
Sunday School and parties at the lake
Life like this is too damn real to fake
We were young on that old dirt road
Didn’t listen to half the things we were told
Fishing poles and twenty-twos
Cowboy boots and tennis shoes
The black top was miles away
The dirt road was here to stay
Or so we thought
In younger days
On a dirt road we were living wild
Free and being nature’s child
Free and living nature wild
Black top was miles away
Thought that life would stay
But the dirt road has gone away
And though the black top’s here today
My heart still runs that dirt road way
The black top was miles away
So very very far away…and the dirt road…
Goes on forever
In my heart
Looking Back
As we all head towards the inevitable truth of our nature
We often show little gratitude towards the past
We often hold on to the material luxuries of the present so firmly
Forgetting that it is the memories that will last.
Whenever we look back, hardly do we remember what we had bought
What we had gifted, or what we had sought
For our minds are aware of how worthless they really are
It is the love, the compassion and the admiration
That made every gift special enough to remember.
Nostalgia has its own superpower
It cheers the weary, and eases the stressed
Gives the lost a chance to change,
It underlines the past, bringing its worth to light
And lets us park the cars of our fast-paced lives momentarily in its garage.
- Soouptik Ghosh