Long Cruising Poems
Long Cruising Poems. Below are the most popular long Cruising by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cruising poems by poem length and keyword.
I was a classic 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air, in mint condition, admiral and white.
My owner had other beautiful, classic cars, like stars sparkling into twilight.
My owner loved his old cars, saying 'they don't make them like they used to;'
And I enjoyed getting out upon the open road, to show him what I could do.
My fellow cars and I saw lots of sunny days, in bliss freedom of the flowers,
Traveling the length and breadth of this land, in the clasp of jeweled hours.
Flighty friends and I recalled 'good old days,' in rosy sunset times of finally,
Laughing and talking our memories in darkness, as moon shone, indefinably.
Forever friends were like feeling family, in the floral days of fuchsia's reign;
When flitting, green butterflies fanned for long, and falcons flew like a train.
I lived in the house of pleasant shadows, which didn't have many windows;
For it was one huge room without a view, like a path without the primrose.
Sparkling summer sauntered in silently, creating such scenes on my street!
Silken clouds roamed, when Sam ran his errands. Traveling was ever a treat.
Neighbors made admiring noises about me, going off on rides in neon night.
We cars were the toast of the neighborhood, nice nostalgia, in a golden light!
Clown orchids had ceased performing, in gone days of purple, beard orchids.
Now their summer relative had the holy ghost, like bliss from many sources.
Mask flowers held beautiful mystery, in alluring hues of pink, cream and red;
Like sweet secrets of moonlit shadows, and violet dreams after going to bed.
Once, Sam and I were cruising Sunset Highway, for it was my turn that day;
While dear friends waited in the cool, quiet of home, for their chance to play.
I felt a sudden impact on my left, and I knew I was hurt! There was damage;
But if not for Sam's expert driving, we might not have been able to manage!
This had happened to me times before. Such is to be expected in a long life.
As ever, friend Sam was my Superman, my mechanic in times of cruel strife.
My convalescence didn't seem so long, as I laughed about old days with pals.
When streets were not very busy, and many listened to front porch musicales.
For we were darling, daring trailblazers, quaint old paving way for all modern,
Leaving lingering feelings of fond nostalgia, like lovely fall leaves which yearn!
Run Bacon run, the sound come echoing from the gun, run bacon run there is nothing to fear hold on to the third and the fifth gear. The oil is in the hip, grease your joints before you take that dip.
Meringue and carhop is no match for the crown. His body is on fire, and his passion is rolling with desire. The cow is on heat and the miracle is underneath my feet. He is running around in the sty so come catch the bull before it dies; the herd is waiting at the crossing with guitar and drums getting ready for that final home run.
Run bacon run, tie up your belly and run, take off your socks and shoes and anchor your feet in the ground before the mid-day news. Take up your baggage and run before you hear the final gun.
They are no match for your ingenuity, your originality and your brevity the crowd is pressing on with courage, ambition and perseverance but the dictator is hiding in the room and you have to remove him before noon.
Run bacon run the race is not yet done, this weekend promises to be fun if you stay in your lane and follow your gut feeling. You have got to know how to roll the dice and you got to know how to run on ice, you must keep your feet firm on the ground and follow the beam on the screen.
Run bacon run, you have three more laps before it’s done, the universe is watching you, and the crowd is patronizing you.Run bacon run, and take control of the track, the president and prime-ministers are in the stands, they are tossing money and playing lot, and way up in the gallery the Saudi dignitaries are getting jittery and the referees are moving around the field taking notes and observing the “goats”. They have thrown a lot of money in this race and anxiety is swelling in their face but they were not in a hurry, for the estimated glory.
Beacon is turning the corner and the crowd is roaring louder, bacon is getting is on the home stretch and it is pulling away in depth. The eastern stand is on fire and it is dancing with pleasure while the northern stand is cruising with the breeze and water is dripping from their knees, they are also on fire.
The western stand is burning with desire and the bacon has just crossed the finishing line in a striking distance of more than fifty meters. I have got to take the bacon home to cool down this internal fire, and give the niceties their final desire.
Run Beacon run!
Far out on Neptune's briny sea,
my hammock holding still
while the ship slowly rocks side to side,
tired and lonely, I close my eyes.
In this darkness I can hear
the constant lapping of the waves
against my ship's hull from bow to stern
and imagine the breeze's gentleness
as it caresses each delicate drop
before it splashes back to its home in the sea.
In this quasi-conscious state of being
My attention is drawn to an aroma so sweet
it reminds me of vanilla or, maybe, jasmine
rooted in a desert hillside mingling
with the cleanness of a Spring rain.
Am I really smelling this
or is my heart playing with my mind?
I am now imagining my arms
wrapping around your body,
breathing in your essences
after my tall ship returns to port.
How many days and hours will that be?
The sea is my home and I know it well,
but am cruising in unfamiliar waters
whose depths, denizens and perils
have yet to be discovered and charted.
With fair winds and a forgiving tide,
how fast can we go?
Is there such a thing as sailing too fast?
How many knots can that be?
Every moment ticking by creates another knot;
one that ties itself inside of me.
Sleep is not forthcoming;
I stir, my breathing heightens,
I slip out of my hammock
and my steps bring me to the deck
where I longingly look out over those ripples
separating me from you.
Surrounded by the pitch black of night I'm enheartened
by the moon's beams dancing like water nymphs
on the milky crest of every wave
filling my eyes with sensuous beauty.
My heart feels warm and vibrant now
and I turn my gaze upon that splendid orb
slowly spanning midnight's sky,
for somehow I know across this expanse of ocean,
you are looking at it too.
I continue my journey into the darkness,
chasing the moon to be closer to you.
Tonight, standing on this cold forlorn deck,
I wish I could reach up into the heavens,
pluck that chromish gem from the sky,
and give it to you to hold forever.
Back in my hammock I think and wonder,
when this ship, again, drops anchor in port,
will you be at dockside waiting for me?
When my sails are relaxed,
my jib tied down resting in its place,
and I finally set these seadog's legs upon the shore,
will you be there?
I am but a lonely sailor
looking for your outstretched arms
to guide my heart into a safe harbor...
copyright2000acb
I am just coming off the big stage that was erected for this vibrant age. The energy is still lingering in the ground and the honey bees are still buzzing around; something special took place at united center last night that send the people wild, heaven was cruising with paradise on earth and the people were dancing their hearts out and the world embrace each other close to the midnight hour. Everyone had this catchy rhythm in their feet and the ladies dressed in white looking like young brides some as old as eighty brought back the suffergate movement of the early nineteen century to life. The women were looking smart and happy as they occupy the center of the building and, the whole place resembles congress makeover. Lousi was there staring at the little starlight floating around in the atmosphere; her eyes were fixed on it and her mind was fading with it, what on earth was going on, it was like a party was transpiring on the lawn outside but it was the protesters in the park rumbling with the officer in the dark and the celebration went on and the music rolls on and the speakers enters the stage one by one igniting a thunderbolt across the center and everyone catches on to the fever, some were short and spice, others were long winding and heavy, but it did what it had to do to make the mistress day come true, the celebration mounts with screams and shouts and bickering around and the journalist filled the gap with interview across the floor as the patron called out for more.The momentum continue to build and the multitude in the center begin to chill, I was feeling the energy too but I did not know what to do, and sweat starts oozing out of my flesh and in seconds all my clothes was wet and the energy in the center began to circulate all the way to the gate and the momentum built higher and higher, And when she could not resist it, she came on the stage, the crowd went out of control and flags were waving across the floor and the people kept asking for more, the balloon came down and spread all over the floor and the momentum began to spread like wildfire in the wilderness; keep the momentum going and nurture it with your feeling, keep the momentum going and get some spiritual healing, keep the momentum going and hit the road in a brand new pair of shoe and destiny will tell you what to do.
You have been walking on that ground since you were a child and you still have not examined the broken lines, you have been playing on that field since you start crawling on your knees and still you have not figured out how to mix lemon with honey.
You have been playing on the middle ground since you were three and you should know the turns like ABC. If I bend my back and cross my knees you will receive a letter from me; some mountains are hard to climb but strategy will save you just in time.
I lit a candle and wander around in the dark searching for that spot where I will meet with the lark, it is that little section around the bend where the crucifix meet with the troublesome heavens, and the clouds keeps turning about and the elements in the sky start to run and shout.
The universe with its ultimate proportion finds the exotic rhythm and starts sing, and I stretched my ears beyond the plane to block out the terrible shame and align myself with the ground for that is where the mystery is found.
The stars and the planets are sealed up with the Gods and the Indus Valley lay bear waiting for something dynamic to share; the Bronze Age of civilization is welled up in the northwestern regions of Southern Asia, cruising from corner to corner and from three thousand three hundred BCE to thirteen hundred BCE, they have been baking a giant cake for you and me,.
The ancient Egyptian and Mesopotamia family have been searching diligently for me they are one of three early civilizations of the Near East and South Asia and they have built an empire out of the diamond and gold and place it in the center of my soul.
The ancestors have paid the sacrifice a million times and when the time is right you will break through the gate and collect the golden plate.
The center ground keeps moving around and the birds keep flying from town to town, the side bars are easy to slide and a miracle is waiting by your side, study the field once more before you walks through the miracle door.It was built specially for you, just to make your dream come through.
When you are in the middle, they attack you from both sides so girt your waist with extra pride and extend your right and left elbow on both sides to scrape up all the prize. The middle ground is hard to find; the middle ground is where destiny abideS.
Listen to the
ticking hands of twilight,
close your eyes,
while I take your thoughts
to an ivory reverie of
flickering fantasies…
there I’m cruising
above an
island of mystery
in a flying
glass catamaran~
glazed in
fairy sparkles.
Watching the
shimmering sea
swallow flaming rays
of the sinking sunset,
I slowly dive
deep
into the
lungs of
lyrical lagoon
to surf along
saffron waves,
against
twinkling tides,
while the
seraphic soul
of an emerald
oyster crest
unravels a
sparkling carnival
of summery parade.
I am magnetically
captivated,
chasing a school of
dancing dolphins,
with every spin,
they reflect hypnotic
songs of the ocean~
a ballet of butterfly-rays,
swirl to symphonies
echoing from the
marine kingdom,
there sharks
and turtles together
croon secrets lost within
the aquatic
jungle of life.
When the
spirits that carry
sunken sagas of
coral reefs rise,
a mystical goddess
emerges beyond
the wide horizon,
where the moon is
meant to glow
and unfurl silvery
chronicles of
crystal clear memories.
She is dressed
in glistening algae,
her scales mirror
a musical melancholy;
tales untold and unseen
in the eyes
of flawed creatures.
Her beauty is beyond any
ballads woven from
salt soaked diamonds.
I question her in awe;
“What flows
beneath violet ripples,
ruffling with starry souvenirs?
Do you hear
midnight serenades
of coastal birds,
when neon gems
light up the sea of fire?”
In silence, she whispered
into the drifting wind,
“I am the sovereign of
seafarers and day dreamers,
I guide the lost to
a sanctuary of serenity”
Her words
kept circling in
ringing refrain,
and I let
my thoughts float,
in the
watery credence
of her cryptic tunes,
as she
vanished
into nothingness,
leaving a fragrant tint across
the celestial
canvas of the sky.
Now the mermaid moon
draws a halo
in fluorescent
colors of her
rainbow tail fin,
splattering a trail of letters,
moving in
zig
zag across
the azure,
knitted in lucky charms~
while initials of this tale
ignites the universe
like
waterfall chandeliers.
What's your name" Was the first thing i said to myself when i saw you
Now that i know yo "The touch of you has become so special in my life"
"Momma said" There will be days like this"and im so glad ther is ,please don't let
me be misunderstood"When i say It's A Thin Line Between love And Hate" Tonight's The
NIght"And i want to put it down on paper for you some of this Pure Genuine Mixed Love
So when i say" Hey LoveKnow that you Make My Love Come Down"And that's what
makes the World go round" my World anyway' Who would have thouhjt A "Sadgirl"
A LonelyGirl" like myself could bring so much brightness into a Thug's Life?You dried
up the tears of a clown"stoppedme from being down, broUght me from "Cowboys to Cowgirls
.Now you got me hanging on your string because I'm Your Puppet.What could i do?
You Dropped The Bomb On Me".Im not used to this ,The Town I live In We Smile Now
And Cry Later" Let's Just Kiss And Say Goodbye" is a way of Life Then"BurnRubber"
and never come back!I thoUght i had a choice in this mixed up World and Baby im for
real's"When i say in these Arm's of mine" There Ain't No Woman Like Tha One you Got"Oh
and when you get out. How We'll Be Sitting On The
Dock of the Bay "Under The Boardwalk"Together Baby"
I picture thing really,I've been
"Wishing On a Star"Cruising On A Fantastic Voyage, me sitting SHOTGUN"PLAYING with
your "JOYSTICK"Yeah
that's what i'm talking about,
Baby. For now,It's just a Dream' A Dream Of Sexual
Healing" Not To Mention More Bounce To The Ounce,
With All My Love" That I Have For You "Let's Get It On,Not
once Do i Stop Thinking How Deep Is Your Love" So Darling
Forever Let's Stay Together
Please Don"T Be A HeartBreaker".Because I Do
Love You"And You Could so EasilyTurn My World "Misty
Blue" Please,Please.DoN"t think of me as a game because
"BABY I'M FOR REAL"When a boy falls in love with me i think "IT MUST BE MAGIC"I
never wanted to play the game of "MAKE UP TO BREAK UP"As far as im concerned "I'M
NEVER GOING TO GIVE YOU UP".i'D RATHER GO BLIND, THEN BE
"YEARNING FOR YOUR LOVE" I just want to tell it like
this"I NO MATTER WHAT'I'LL WILL BE THERE BEFORE THE NEXT TEARDROP FALLS"If there's
ever something on your mind "remember you can "COME AND TALK TO ME"
try me,THIS MAGIC MOMENT,Ihave 'NOTHING BUT LOVE FOR YOU BABY.
how many times have i pretended to have plans?
had to design an excuse to get out of the house.
when i say i'm with friends
i really mean i'm with buds,
and im smoking enough for an army.
yet the hours pass alone and i drive
til i see the sun rising on east coast suburbia.
listening to the mixed tape he made me,
and all i can think about is the teenage romance
found in the backseat of my first car.
we spent so many hours tied in knots,
it's hard to believe those feelings ever faded.
and i almost called you the other night.
i drove by your mom's old house and hoped
that the demons in your family were suffocated long ago.
i wanted you next to me
but i know you haven't though of me in years.
i'm cruising alone
and there is no one to blame
but myself.
i drive through salem
and i stone myself hoping
to reach the witches or the dead poets
that float above my head.
please try to remember me
in the cobblestone streets
of your midnight retreat
because i remember you always.
if i were to call you up,
would you still play the game
of who loves who most?
everything was so different
when we were all growing up
and growing into who we never knew
we could be.
the ghosts of our future tried to warn us
of the muderous distance that would melt
what was supposed to link us for life.
the innocence was so real,
it's hard to imagine that we ever
had pure intentions.
but everything white will develop a stain.
sometimes it's a quick splash of coffee,
sometimes it's the nervous sweat that gathers
on the back of your neck when i get too close.
you can bleach the memories
until they tear like an old sweater,
but you'll never forget the warmth it brought
because you've never looked better
than when i was clinging to your shoulders.
back then it was all so black and white.
there was no getting high,
there was only love.
but we aren't the same two people
that once promised our lives to each other.
it's easy to move on when your brain is clouded with smoke,
but what happens when the smoke clears
and all i can see is still you?
when i'm sober and alone,
who will i still need?
when my gas light turns on
and the heat stops working...
will you be there as i've always imagined?
or will i be alone and cold as i've always anticipated?
The tributes keep pouring in and my heart is singing a wonderful hymn
The lines are getting longer and the passions are getting stronger
They stormed the streets in a hundred thousand throng; people of all color and creed, husbands and wives holding hands and little children marching along with flowers tied up in bundle to express their love for the diseased queen. The flower memorial is swelling on every corner and the barricades are everywhere giving a touch to the social order.
They come from Europe, the Middle East, Australia and North America. They come from Latin America and the Caribbean; they come from Asia and Africa with gold and silver to show their respect to the queen. The airports are crowed and the hotels are full, all roads lead to London, by air, by sea on land and on foot. They come from France, Germany Italy and Spain, they are all there. The crowd is getting bigger and the passion is growing deeper and my heart is singing a silent tune
The procession began at balmoral estate when the Landrover suddenly broke through the gate carrying the body of the diseased queen and her only daughter accompanying her on the long journey from Scotland to Edinburgh and Buckingham palace in London, cruising through villages and town, farming communities and breakaway cities and the anxious crowd gather in the street showing their love for the queen. The Face of love, faces of pain, somber face, faces that have nothing to gain watch the procession as it journeyed through the winding street to its final destination. I could hear the whispers and the cries and now and again she pulled out a handkerchief to dry up the falling tears.
A sea of flowers converged in the square with a powerful message from the heart. I remember the queen from the start I can see her dainty smile and I imagine sitting with her for a while having a cup of tea. Just yesterday she was with me talking about her family and I am sitting here bearing the weight of her coffin. The dignitaries are coming to town, and they will meet at West Minister to pay homage to the queen. Everyone will meet at west minister Abby to pay the final respect to the queen and so the legacy of the daffodil lives on and the story of cactus hang on the window is showing its sorrow, And the lotus is dancing in the stream.
Burning the hay day’s flurry’s from club Sixty Eight It was said, I would fight a buzz saw, maybe if it crossed me Road house blues, old news but never to miscreate For living in the condemnation was never, to be easy You see the fear and loathing came before ever I met Hunter S, for I was driving through decadence to sleazy A speakeasy but never was it a black and white bet Cruising route 68 to where rock-n-roll met the road Where hall of famer's played, before they were somebody Skillet fried from all the cornbread and your own code Fast music, fast cars, fast women all aboard everybody Getting to the club was half the fun, so we thought Leaving blue lights behind for they gave us a rash Where the mafia rules and nightly battles fought Walking on glass, the parking lot was as the roadhouse bash Before you hit the door knives, guns flash in the moonlight Don’t mess with my brother it could end your life Everything is on the table not coming down to daylight Even then, it was only glorified misery, waking again to strife Looking through the hole in the wall never wanting to go back For all the crosses, beside the road, in hindsight friend Not all made it through, the wrong side of the track By the grace of God it was a song with an end