Long Crank up Poems
Long Crank up Poems. Below are the most popular long Crank up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crank up poems by poem length and keyword.
Absolutely loved old Mickey Mouse
My all-time favourite character
No matter what my age is chronologically
Can't wait to crank up the projector
As he carouses round the celluloid screen
Fills my heart with great happiness
His squeaky voice rings out loud and clear
Always creating such rowdiness
Remember the Wonderful World of Disney
One in four was from Fantasyland
Of course, I enjoyed the other three weeks
But adored Mickey and his band
Life was filled with joy back then
Hoped we'd stay kids forever
Thoughts of getting old sometime in the future
Occurred to us almost never
Mickey and his band kept us chuckling all day
No worries, the world was in rhyme
Never concerned what the future had in store
Only fun till beddy-byes time
© Jack Ellison 2014
Bad sick brains/ A jolt to the soul Energy raw, untamed, a primal scream/
Then Blink-182, "First Date," pop punk dreams, sixty million views, a digital stream, what a bad dream/ is anybody makin’ money nowadays? But views ain’t loyalty, tour duty, the grit and the grind/
The scar tissue earned, a chair thrown at the stage, the battles you find. Punk Rock is divine/
We’d still take the bullet, stand shoulder to shoulder, for brothers, for sisters, getting older, getting bolder/ Still rocking/ Still old is new again/
Hear that echo, that roar? Punk, hardcore, and metal, smashing down the door/
Badass Undiluted Pure, untamed defiance/
They played the music, fueled by pure head-busting Punk Rock science… in believing in something, a brotherhood strong, while the world outside was screaming all along/ They had no clue/ No crystal ball to see Just how fractured, how ed the future would be/
Black kid in the late 80s, early 90s haze, metal and punk, his escape from those days/ Guitarist Rocky George, a beacon, a fire, melting the Punk genres together/ lifting him higher/
What band was the best punk/metal crossover the world ever made? Before the labels, the formulas, the games that are played?
Just raw, honest power/ a message so clear/ We’re here, we’re fighting, banishing fear! So crank up the volume, let the riffs ignite, remember the Punk Rock heroes who stood in the light/
Still rocking/ still good/ We’ll take that bullet today/for the music, for the message/
That punk music lights up the way.
Give me a song to sing,
Give me the words to write.
Give me the path to walk,
Point me in a direction that's right.
Play me the sound to dance,
Let me feel the bass under my feet,
Let the music take control,
Let the rhythm feel the beat.
I got you forever,
The rhythm to my song.
The music is my life,
Play it loud and sing along!
Crank up the sound,
Feel your body flow.
Lose yourself in the moment,
Let yourself go.
Give me the air to breathe,
Give me the voice to sing my song.
Give me the people to hear my words,
Together we all sing along.
Let's dance this storm together,
Punching our fists into the air.
Let the music take control,
It's for everyone to share.
Shake it out on the dance floor,
Feel the vibes in your soul.
Now scream it loud and clear,
I live for rock n roll !!!
The new groom
Loved his bride so
One day she took ill
He took her in tow
I'll clean and I'll cook
Set you up with a book
In a day, maybe two
You'll be as good as new
To eat, what's your request
I'm at your behest
Tell me your heart's desire
And I'll crank up the fire
Hard-boiled eggs, she smiled
So he dropped two in a pot
Turned on the stove
But they didn't get hot
He waited and waited
The morning grew old
But those two raw white eggs
Stayed cool, if not cold
The gallant groom paced
Even stamping his foot
Yet all he got for his efforts
Was some dust and some soot
Up from her sickbed
The bride took her groom's place
Lit a match to the gaslight ~
Put egg on his face
Absolutely love old Mickey Mouse
He's my all-time favourite character
No matter what my age chronologically
Can't wait to crank up the projector
As he carouses round the celluloid screen
Fills my heart with a much happiness
His squeaky voice rings out loud and clear
His hilarious antics and rowdiness
Remember the Wonderful World of Disney
One in four was from Fantasyland
Of course, I enjoyed the other three weeks
But adored Mickey Mouse and his band
Life was such joy back way back when
Figured we would be kiddies forever
Thoughts we'd get old one day in the future
Occurred almost just about never
Mickey and his band kept us chuckling all day
No worries, the world was in rhyme
Never concerned what the future may hold
Much fun from morning till bed time
Sleepless, the body becomes
a mind map strung out on a bed,
color coded in degrees of pain.
Each movement sends an update,
a glowing patch of deepening red
or a lava line of heat solidifying
into a poker branding plunge
with a white hot X.
Staying still is only a temporary
reprieve, a lull for nerves to reset
and crank up for the next assault.
Inhabited space pressurizes
to send throbs pounding
on the walls of each weary cell
accompanied by waves
of relentless ache.
Thoughts clamber upwards
looking for a way out
but fall back into a dark
gravity, consumed by
that agonizingly slow countdown
when the next dose of oblivion
can be dribbled out of a pill
which, with any luck,
should get you through
until morning creeps across
your bed
with another installment.
All the others row the boat slow while I crank up the motor....
Here we go let's start the show, I'm the show boater.
The entrance of the eminent,
with ability that's evident.
Poo fills your pants
as you now know you haven't a chance.
I've had it with those who flow with a transparent talent,
the thumpy clumpy rhyme and rhythm of an elephant,
regardless of their age they should think about retirement,
as a skill that's transparent is a skill that they haven't.
I'm the standard setter and I lack compassion,
my skills unmeasured and better than the competition.
Your rhymes are rotten,
that's why they're forgotten,
you're not the dogs bollocks
you're just the dogs bottom.
I rhyme with a rhythm representing Great Britain,
you rhyme like you've been bitten and are disease ridden.
My hyperactive mind will leave you behind,
I am not being unkind but simple minds,
can't even begin to find the words to bind,
people like you often tend to stumble blind
over the simple single syllable rhyme.
I started writing and I'm unstoppable, it's easy it's natural,
you're a hangover fart that lingers like a holocaust chemical.
I am the only poetic superhuman that's causing confusion,
it's amusing how you need the supervision to point out you're losin'.
You need to train your face to look HUMBLE when defeated,
if you feed what it needs your brain won't crumble depleated.
I'm on a mission to book first place, so when I'm awarded,
I must be applauded, stand and clap don't remain seated.
You need to accept it and expect it,
or quit while you have time to forefeit.
You will blunder under the sound of my THUNDER that goes round,
but if it's misheard,
I've got a box of frost to start biting,
but if that's squandered
and you carry on like a fighter,
I'll strike you with lightning,
one way or another you will not win top writer.
Respect the perspective that my rhyme is perfected,
and to conclude your rhymes are rejected.
Not to be rude but your seat's to be ejected,
it's not that you're bad it's that I am majestic.
(I wrote this when I was 16 - in covid lockup)
Which do you like better "coronapocalypse" or "coronapause"?
I like "coronapause".
Back when you could do such things…
I'm in the Ulta Beauty store, in Athens, Georgia, at the Clarins makeup counter looking things over - I pick up a 'Restorative Cream' - the little label says it'll make you look 10 years younger - I drop it like a hot rock - How ridiculous - who wants to look 6 again?
the other night
I was watching one of the “Final Destination” movies the other night and I screamed in horror at some gloriously gruesome death and one of my cats (Belichik) lounging in back of me atop the couch totally freaked out and attacked me.
I was shocked - and intrigued. It turns out that if I scream and run around the house he'll chase me - as if he were a lion and I were prey on an African plain - it’s so funny.
Belichik has gotten into it, as if he knows we now have new games to play.
If I crank up a playlist and sing and dance around my room he’ll go absolutely crazy - we’ve started having dance parties.
Belichik and I have been brought so much closer by these new and exciting activities that I find myself really letting go and telling him all my secrets.
It’s a lesson in love.
.
.
A song for this:
lessons in love by level 42
And Like a drum my heart will keep on beating
As the Glory of Your Name deserves repeating
Day in and day out, in the morning, noon and night
I will never surrender the bout of keeping You in sight
In every line You are there as all the words you provide
And through Your Loving Mercy even the thought You supplied
Loud and clear is how my heart will always beat so true
Like a drum Lord my heart will never stop beating for You
For it is in You that I find my salvation and all of my joy
Yet there are so many down here who still want to destroy
So I crank up my speaker in making it even more loud
Only You Lord Jesus could continually make me this proud
Like a drum, like a drum I will use Your gift to praise You
Like a drum, like a drum every note will be brand new
Thank You Lord for every single gift that You have given
As I praise Your Name in every day that I'm here living
Psalms 109:30
I will greatly praise the LORD with my mouth;
yea, I will praise him among the multitude.
Life is crazy so make sure the getaway car is always ready
So, we can hop in and leave the single life behind
Crank up the tunes riding so smooth it feels like we’re riding on clouds
Let’s stop at Whataburger for a little snack and photoshoot
Still dressed in our wedding attire
The white, burgundy, and rose gold goes well with the white wash tires
1821 are our numbers but the year is 1935 on the cream old school ford
Suicide doors but I knew a long time before today I would die for you
Let’s see the world tonight I’ll be the chauffeur
Cruising to all our favorite spots anything for my queen
Tire tracks painting our love scene
p.s. I wish everything was as smooth as our ride in the Ford from 1935…