Long Choo Poems

Long Choo Poems. Below are the most popular long Choo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Choo poems by poem length and keyword.


The haunted train of Schwenksville

The haunted train of Schwenksville

After dark every Halloween
since living social in Perkiomen Valley
for seven long years,
a shrill whistle train whistle
(often compared to the sound
of a bird's call, particularly
a large bird like a hawk or a crane,
due to its piercing, high-pitched
and long-lasting whistle-like quality)
soundcloud heard
from afar clear as a bell,
yet nary a train present
since locomotives stopped running
through Schwenksville, Pennsylvania valley in 1976,
when Pennsylvania Railroad
gave up its rail assets
to Consolidated Rail Corporation (Conrail).

However, some passenger "rambles" took place
from Reading to Schwenksville in the late 1960s.
Matter of fact beginning at the junction
of the Schuylkill River Trail in Oaks,
the trail uses much of the former rail bed
of the Perkiomen Line of the Reading Railroad.

The Perkiomen Trail
created in 2003, often called, the “Perky”,
the trail rolls down the valley
of Perkiomen Creek,
which may have been a reference
by local American Indians
to the surrounding cranberry bogs.

The northern end of the trail begins
at Morrow Pavilion in Green Lane Park,
where trail users can find parking and restrooms.

The 20-mile Perkiomen Trail
follows the route of the Perkiomen Creek
from Oaks to Green Lane Borough.

It connects to the Schuylkill River Trail
and the Audubon Loop.

For most of its length, the "Perky,"
known by many, uses the former rail bed
(as iterated earlier)
of the Perkiomen Line of the Reading Railroad.

Every other time of year
outer limits of the twilight zone
spread dark shadows,
which creep along the edge of night
startling a driver unexpectedly
yet instinctually to veer
away from harm's way
courtesy a nocturnal creature,
now ghost rail activity heard to scare
the living daylights
out of atheists like myself,
who quickly utter a prayer
immediately afraid then jubilant,
cuz prevarication (housed within
a ghastly fashion) my métier,
which brilliant notion
sparked immediately, née instantaneously
after discerning unquestionable choo-choo
within a kiloampere,
a unit of measurement equal
to one thousand amperes.

An ampere is defined
as the amount of current
that flows through a conductor
when one coulomb of charge
passes through it in one second.


Premium Member A Shot of Haiku -Chain-

Haiku Chain

Presents wrap by tree
babies first Christmas is here
jet stream follows sleigh ~~by; Royal

jet stream follows sleigh 
Santa's bag floats ocean unknown 
cap is in Spain  ~~by; Goode Guy

cap is in Spain
it blew over the ocean
beating rhythm flows ~~by; Andrea Dietrich  

beating rhythm flows
unnoticed tiny black spot
fly, fly, ride high winds ~~by; Nathan Dilts

fly, fly, ride high winds
bring in the New Year, hurry… 
a parrot shows up  ~~by; Annalise Brigham

a parrot shows up
the world was never so right
as I feel refresh   ~~by; S.Jagathsimhan Nair

as I feel refresh
breeze blows with soothing effect  
as birds fly higher  ~~by; olusegun Arowolo 

as birds fly higher
their iridescent feathers
ribbons in the sky   ~~by; David Williams  

ribbons in the sky
soft whistling pretty lights dance
to sing like a bird   ~~by; Tracie, Indigo Dreamweaver 

to sing like a bird
constrained within emotions
give me liberty  ~~by; David Williams  

give me liberty   
sweet vertigo dizziness 
the flight takes up space  ~~by; Poet Destroyer
 

the flight takes up space
come and join the view today
birds fly around me   ~~by; Poet Destroyer
 
birds fly around me 
brown grey with a glowing force
the moon as haze ends  ~~by; Poet Destroyer

the Moon As Haze Ends 
crashing On The Horizon 
with The Rising Sun  ~~ by; Christopher Bunton

With the rising sun 
celebrate the coming home 
maybe peace will reign  ~~by; cecil hickman 

maybe peace will reign
in the silent world this day
all is calm and bright  ~~by; Deb Wilson 

all is calm and bright
just me in my Xmas hat 
and loving all night   ~~by; Michael J. Falotico

and loving all night
this a welcome of pure light
power of the wind   ~~by; harry horsman

power of the wind 
a new year begins again
first let's celebrate ~~by; Catie Lindsey

first let's celebrate 
the sweet air brings me your scent 
now I know your here ~~by; Michael J. Falotico

now I know your here
Staring out the window,  
upon a (choo) choo train  ~~by; John Rhinem

upon a (choo) choo train
steam blows, lumps in my stocking 
charcoal grey mittens  ~~by; poet destroyer

charcoal grey mittens
the two of us are rocking
choo choo train chuckles  ~~by; S.Jagathsimhan Nair
 
Team Work -created this haiku chain
Form: Haiku

Casting a Line

The air was still 
An odd quiet could be felt in the room
Johnny walked slowly up to the casket 
His brother looked peaceful
He couldn’t glance toward his wife and their son
He wondered what she would do
The boy was only six and she would be left to raise him alone
Throughout the service, he could feel her glance his way
His eyes focused on the funeral program
His mind was on the future
As he stared into his brother’s eyes he felt the tears roll down his cheeks
How could this be true
Why did this happen? 
He didn’t want to question God’s plan
He didn’t want to lose faith
He surely didn’t want to be sitting there listening to the Preacher
His brother was in his forties
This wasn’t right
It wasn’t fair

At the end of the service he was so engulfed in grief they had to call his name twice
Finally he made his way to the pulpit
He took one final look at the casket before they closed it
His brother’s eyes were closed and he looked serene
She noticed his voice trembling as he tried to remain calm
He spoke of their childhood and how they both loved to fish
When he mentioned Leopoldo’s work at the railroad
Her son smiled and blurted out “He worked on the trains, choo choo”
A few of the older ladies glared at him
She thought to herself “he is six and just lost his father”
She wondered if their children could remain tranquil at a time like this
She thought not as she glared right back shaking her head

Fifty years later that boy went home
He looked into his father’s eyes
He smelled his mother’s cooking on the stove
Grabbing two fishing poles, he reached for the bait
and in an instant
                          there they were
                                                  father and son
                                                                        casting a line
                                                                                              Blessed

                                                       05/12/2021

Written for Writing Prompt-Calm- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France

Al Bundy

Put your toe inside 
my mouth, I wanna 
feel you squirm, 
there're lessons to 
be taught tonight, I 
feel you're gonna 
learn,

to let yourself be 
serviced in the 
many ways that 
come, I love bare 
feet but time to 
switch, go 'head, 
put on them pumps.

They're pointy toed 
and shiny with at 
least a 6 inch heel, 
your muscle calves 
are flexing like Mad 
Cobra on the real,

I think it's time for 
sex when shoes 
point up toward the 
ceil, that Jimmy 
Choo Manolo 
Blahnik action 
seals the deal.

You may think I'm a 
freak and you can 
tell from how I 
speak, those 
pumps can rub my 
cheek for ocho dias 
ev'ry week,

that leaves an extra 
day to flip off work 
for extra play, you 
work them sexy 
thangs as if you 
twirk for extra pay.

I failed to mention 
that you're nude 
with shoes and 
that's the move, you 
got me thinkin 
baseball like I 
wanna smack a few,

from out the park, 
the rout starts with 
your Peggy Bundy 
walk, the stuff to 
have a buck of bud 
combusting after 
dark.

See I can be your 
bodyguard, we'll 
play like long lost 
pals, that 80s song 
goes best with 
Bundy, you can call 
me Al,

I'd jack these sons 
like Janet if I say 
let's wait awhile, 
them pumps worn 
with a short tight 
skirt? Now that's 
the way to style.

Those shoes 
embrace your feet 
like Twista's 
rhymes embrace a 
beat, I hear folks 
talk that bull but are 
afraid to face the 
heat,

my catalouge 
competes without a 
Facebook post or 
Tweet, your feet in 
them stilettos baby, 
muy dulce; sweet.

Your weight is 
meaning nathan, 
lookin fine from 
head to toe, them 
Lisa Lisa fellas now 
prefer thin chicks to 
blow,

all on the magic 
johnson which to 
me aint meanin 
jack, I'm talkin 
zapatos de *****, 
crotchless cream 
and black,

dress nightie set, 
exciting yes, it all 
starts with the 
shoes, the wrapping 
of your package 
leaves exquisite 
parts to view,

a patient man I am 
my darlin, come 
and dance with me, 
I'll end this as we 
move to music, you 
dressed scantilly.
Form: Rhyme

Lunar Ticking

American cosmonaut
	moonwalking
Humanity is tethered to the line,
sweating vacuum fear facing the void
Planet of the apes ...
	backwards talking
Silent film projector reel
spinning in reverse ... time capsule re-entry noise
Caveman slug in a spacesuit
	retrograde crawling
Mushroom cloud cinematography ... 
flashback to the future Stone Age trajectory
	
	And Superman in a Captain America spacesuit
		      ain’t trying to save no one

The giant red star of Krypton
       orbiting Washington
is gonna explode, 
sucking the Earth into a black hole

Listen to the Neanderthal war chants
devolving into military gorilla grunts
Toraburu   ...   Rising sun trouble coming
Hear the nuclear choo-choo,
rich uranium promises ain’t worth nothing
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Trouble means Toraburu,
choo-choo ... choo-choo
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Toraburu,
lost in space translation
Hear the choo-choo,
around the bend coming is nuclear devastation

	And Super Tweetman in a Captain America spacesuit
		     	 ain’t trying to save no one

The white dwarf star of Krypton
         orbiting Washington
is gonna implode, 
sucking the Earth into a black hole

Superman can you climb
out of the bottomless black hole?
American cosmonaut 
	moonwalking ...	
	backwards talking ...
	retrograde crawling

Toraburu   ...   Rising sun trouble coming
Hear the nuclear choo-choo,
rich uranium promises ain’t worth nothing
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Rubble piles of Toraburu,
choo-choo ... choo-choo
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Toraburu,
trouble for the United Nations
Hear the choo-choo,
around the bend coming is global desolation

Toraburu,
insanity curse is coming soon
Death smoke from the choo-choo,
will blot out the sun and moon
Woe, woe ... woe!
Superman is kryptonite sick
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick
Captain America is radiation sick
Woe, woe ... woe!
Tick, tick ... lunar ... tick, tick


Iron Horses

I would be so excited, standing there on the railroad platform, holding my mothers hand.  I had waited for this day.  A chance to ride the train to Boston.  Impatiently, from time to time, I would lean forward to peer down the track, as if willing the train to arrive.

I heard it before I saw it.  First the dinging as the crossing gates lowered, signaling it's approach.  Then the scream of the steam whistle and the vibration in the rails.  Finally, the choo-chooing as the black behemoth slowed, and the engineer rung the bell, signaling their arrival.  Often he would wave and I would wave back.  Finally, with steam hissing from the brakes, they would stop, and the smell of coal smoke would fill the air.  

We would wait for the conductor in his black suit and hat to step down and place a stool at the foot of the stairs to the passenger car.  Even then, it was a big step and he would usually lift me under my arms and place me on the landing, then turn to assist my mothers assent.  Once aboard, I would choose our seat.  If possible, I always chose one with an unoccupied seat next to it.  By so doing, I was able to switch the seat back so that I could ride facing my mother, but more importantly, backward.  For some reason, that was part of the thrill of the trip.

Soon, we would hear the “All aboard” called out by the conductor and feel the initial jolt as the train began to move, the chugging growing faster.  I would listen to the measured click of the wheels as they moved over the breaks in the rails.  Once up to speed, that sound, like the cadence of a metronome, was almost mesmerizing, as the car swayed gently as if keeping time.

That was a magic time.  An adventure to be savored.  However, sometime in the ensuing years, those times disappeared and assumed the role of memories.  Today, I see mothers, holding their child’s hands as they wait to board the Amtrak.   Perhaps there is still an excitement there, but it is not the same. And I suspect the engineer doesn't wave anymore.
Form: Narrative

Al Bundy

Put your toe inside my mouth, I wanna feel you 
squirm, there're lessons to be taught tonight, I feel 
you're gonna learn,

to let yourself be serviced in the many ways that 
come, I love bare feet but time to switch, go 'head, 
put on them pumps.

They're pointy toed and shiny with at least a 6 inch 
heel, your muscle calves are flexing like Mad Cobra 
on the real,

I think it's time for sex when shoes point up toward 
the ceil, that Jimmy Choo Manolo Blahnik action 
seals the deal.

You may think I'm a freak and you can tell from how I 
speak, those pumps can rub my cheek for ocho dias 
ev'ry week,

that leaves an extra day to flip off work for extra play, 
you work them sexy thangs as if you twirk for extra 
pay.

I failed to mention that you're nude with shoes and 
that's the move, you got me thinkin baseball like I 
wanna smack a few,

from out the park, the rout starts with your Peggy 
Bundy walk, the stuff to have a buck of bud 
combusting after dark.

See I can be your bodyguard, we'll play like long lost 
pals, that 80s song goes best with Bundy, you can 
call me Al,

I'd jack these sons like Janet if I say let's wait awhile, 
them pumps worn with a short tight skirt? Now that's 
the way to style.

Those shoes embrace your feet like Twista's 
rhymes embrace a beat, I hear folks talk that bull but 
are afraid to face the heat,

my catalouge competes without a Facebook post or 
Tweet, your feet in them stilettos baby, muy dulce; 
sweet.

Your weight is meaning nathan, lookin fine from 
head to toe, these Lisa Lisa maricóns prefer thin 
chicks to blow,

all on the magic johnson which to me aint meanin 
jack, I'm talkin zapatos de *****, crotchless cream 
and black, 

dress nightie set, exciting yes, it all starts with the 
shoes, the wrapping of your package leaves 
exquisite parts to view,

a patient man I am my darlin, come and dance with 
me, I'll end this as we move to music, you dressed 
scantilly.
Form: Rhyme

Beastiology

Ooh a triangular prism made out of eighteen purple sashed curtains. Wow. Movement. Vortex of a synopsis and a synchronised swirling pattern. When a pea jumps into a swimming pool and performs the backflip it is time for the potatoes to go proportionate. For portions are neither potions nor postures. And a pas a doublet is a particle of an easy iron. Jump then. Off and go. It is interesting to note that the sailing of a peel from a left over carrot can travel vast cubic measurements especially in sand storms. Storks staking stalks. And a wide angled visionary swamp singing in the woods. No do not stamp on a leaf from a mushroom or a rhododendron would chase you out of the clearing. And a pretty and capable doe bakes a nice tree sap cake for the herd. Who gather in a very large circle. Not a rectangle. Ok then. It is wiser to accept the pacifying notions from one single fish rather than a shoal. And coals are never the same twice if placed in a radioactive formation near a fireplace. Versions of the tunes created can be heard on the world wide open airwaves. And a singular plural can loop with an antonym at a stellular ball in linkage with the paragraphs. Shrink no ball of paper nor papyrus into a pot. And leap twenty-five times over a dish to create a heartwarming broth. Of stems. Of leaves. Of berries. Belly bouncing bustiers bring booming boogieing breaths. And a waltz with a fish is best performed in a yogurt container measuring exactly forty-two and a half centimetres. One two three tick tock. But no rock. One two three four. And here is a shore. Arriving to speak if truth and wisdom from across watery expanses. Seek no hill in a cave then. Hahahaha funny flimsy frameworks frolicking. Hahaha branches beaked beaming. Hahahaha and now eat 90 eggs, 10 toasts, and a slice of lentil. Yum. Fantastic. Wow. Xxxxx dragline drainage droppings. Xx,x, dele rational beings ***,, choo Choi xxxxx and a code cackling. Xxxxx beastiology q. P y q z.
Form:

I Am He, As He Is Me

I am He, as He is Me


As I was falling in love with you,
Your heart began to break.
Such disappointment in your eyes;
As I allowed you my heart to take.


Now forever entwined with you inside,
I stay in pain, to ease your strife.
For life it seems, looks down on me
And laughs, not smiles; this is my purgatory.


Punishment, for being so bloody stupid!
Why the Hell, couldn’t I just go through with it?
Instead of just running away with misery…
I live a life of regrets; it is all I am left with.


For years now, I’ve wasted my time;
When all along, I had already met my Wife.
We just didn’t know it, until we touched
And now that night shall be remembered forever by each of us.


I couldn’t believe how good we could become;
But now it feels like we have always been in love.


This is for you, you beautiful lady:


I am in love with you…
Head spinning, loco, loon; 
Crazy, e-love for only you.


You know of my love for Her;
It is minute compared to the love I will always feel for you.
For I knew with Her it would never work;
But with you I knew it couldn’t work,
Because back then I was a jerk.


Now I hope after all this time,
You too still feel the same.
Because I see your soul in your eyes
And your eyes speak of someone who has already loved…
Only to be shown loves grave.
But you are my angel;
You simply make all my problems and my history go away.


Imagine your brain has just been born
And it can believe me with no cynicism.
I look deep into your eyes and you naturally smile,
As I speak to you the words of ‘Within’.


I flied!  I flied!  No, you falled.
She loves me!  She loves me!  No, she isn’t interested at all.


I am in love with You!!!
I love You, yes I do!!!
Yep, yep, yep.
Me and You.
All I ask for, is for you to truly believe me, when I tell you…


Goo, goo, ga, choo!


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
© Aa Harvey  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Bio

Premium Member Tea With Bigfoot

Well! How ya doin' ? Come on in,
the door ain't got no lock,
and let me help you sit right down
before you die of shock.
Yes, home for me is this Big Leaf Maple,
bijou but it's alright,
not increased in value but
it's sure increased in height.
Carved myself a second floor and
when the sap had hardened
hung wallpaper in vintage flock
I got from 'Home and Garden'.
Mossy carpet- not ideal,
it's just the roof keeps leaking
and no point in having windows, with
the way this place keeps creaking.
I see you like my shoe collection;
Valentino, Choo, Louboutin,
'fraid I haven't bought them, they're
from cabins I've been looting.
Impractical for this terrain, the heels snap
at the back,
so outdoors I wear furry UGGS, they leave
much better tracks.
My make-up table's basic, yeah,
I'm really no trailblazer
got just a tub of Bison dung, a flea comb
and a razor.
Diet? I'm an Omnivore, I hope that you approve,
berries, shoots and Hazelnuts, and
anything that moves.
Card table leaning on the wall, I use
for Solitaire
which probably explains why you're sat on the only chair.
Don't socialize much, not at all,
it's due to all the hype
and guys with crossbows, guns and cameras
really aren't my type.
I've scanned lonely hearts classifieds
there's not one that I've missed
but if you read their profiles,well-
I'm not sure they exist.
Don't get me wrong, I've got some pals,
Ol' Nessie keeps in touch
but crossing the Atlantic's tough
she doesn't do it much.
Yeti is still thriving in the mountains of Tibet,
I saw him once on cable- no, I haven't met him yet.
We three through all controversy
and media storms we've weathered
content to dwell in hearts and minds
in legend, and forever.
So thanks for calling, loved our chat
and so I'll say goodnight,
and should somebody ask you, hey:
you haven't seen me. Right?
© Viv Wigley  Create an image from this poem.

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