Long Derby Poems
Long Derby Poems. Below are the most popular long Derby by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Derby poems by poem length and keyword.
The gates open as a large crowd starts rushing in
A day of pomp and pageantry is about to begin
It is the first Saturday in May at Churchill Downs home of the Kentucky Derby
Top 3-year-olds from around the world circle the track in a frenzied hurry
The jockeys with their colorful outfits mount their horses
In just a few moments they will chart their course
The crowd is a sea of black and white colors with ladies wearing exquisite hats
Mint Juleps flow freely amongst the crowd as the patrons raise their glasses
A tribute to horses and jockeys 160 thousands people join in to sing My Old Kentucky Home
In a few minutes, the race will be run and the winner will be known
The horses are released from the starting gate the wait is over the race has begun
In the end, the horse I bet on comes out on top making the race that much more fun
The two year old mahogany stallion's nostrils flared out
mist in the cool April morning, his veins prominent, his
sweat frothy on his regal neck and muscular chest.
His exercise rider, a youth himself, gently pulled him
to a stop from his run on the dirt track.
"They named you Apollo for a good reason," he spoke
as he patted the frisky colt on his withers. The nearby
elderly railbird nodded in agreement as he spat out
chewing tobacco through yellowed teeth.
I, the author of this prose, am against horseracing.
Some young and older Thoroughbreds break down on
the tracks. Many are euthanized. There is no, "Sport of
Kings," in that.
From idyllic days in the horse farm pastures, fledgling
fillies and colts are separated from their dams who
call out in anxious neighing for their babies as they are
taken into the horseracing world.
Two famous racehorses, the great mare Ruffian, and
the gelding Barbaro, became gravely injured during
races. They had surgery but the rehabilitation process
for both unfortunate horses became too complicated,
and they were euthanized.
Please, no more sacrifices of beauteous horses,
no more exercise riders and jockeys falling to the earth.
A Kentucky Derby winner, Ferdinand, was sold and then
killed in a Japanese slaughterhouse.That is the fate of
some racehorses. This is a blood sport. Please boycott
horseracing. Please also boycott dog racing. Dogfighting
is another cruel abomination. The animals can't speak
for themselves, we must speak up for them. ~
All passions and emotions combine into one synergy
country demands patriotism but our club? So much energy
celebrations and glory allow constant piracy
and a wonderful victory can never have its privacy
paying for tickets to enjoy a win is the basic
after the maximum points collected, comes next is the music.
Pitch soldiers fight with zeal so cosmic,
giving pure entertainment and fun really orgasmic
the mood in every rivalry comes with a cost,
defeat in a derby feels like holocaust.
Raising our emblems and banners for all to see
even when disgraced, the united pride will never flee.
Always kissing the badge, win or lose,
insult our integrity and heavily pay the dues.
Blue Cheese
There is Cheshire, Red Leicester, Emmental and Brie,
Double Gloucester and Edam, a delight for all to see,
Stilton, Caerphilly, or Cheddar mature and mild,
Lots of subtle flavours to drive my taste bud’s wild.
There is Lancashire, Wensleydale or Derby to please,
So why, oh’ why, would you serve me Blue Cheese?
That smelly Blue cheese you know I cannot stand,
Give me Shropshire Mild, or something rather bland.
I don’t want that stinking dairy, in my salad box,
Opening the lid to an odour of sweaty socks.
So, hear my request I am begging of you please,
No more, no more, of that smelly blue cheese.
George W. Towne
1847 – 1899
From Iowa I came by restless wagon train.
From the mid-west I arrived
With satchel and silken scalp still intact.
I read Proverbs and Ecclesiastes to pass the time.
I read the Gospels of John and Luke.
I read Harriet Beecher Stowe and
I read John Greenleaf Whittier.
I saw the icy Rocky Mountains beckon me to the west
Waving their invisible fluid fingers
Like blond ballerinas in silent ever-moving tableaux.
I saw the railroad snake through the endless golden valleys.
And I saw the muddy roads converge
Under a hundred bee-infested pepper trees.
And it was here in this new colony I found a home
For my wife Fannie and our three dubious children.
You could always spot me in the distance,
Walking down Pickering Street.
For I was the dapper one in black derby hat
Taking the cash in the Greenleaf Avenue millinery.
I was the suited one in dusty black,
Winking and bowing to the lovely ladies
Showing my respect but imagining something else
Deep within my empty searching soul.
I was the tall, cleanly shaven erudite
Who had memorized the entire Gospel of John
And walked the northern foothills at sunset
Wearing my ever-present derby hat
And meeting, yes,
Secretly meeting Lucy Swain
Under the tall cedar tree on Rideout Ranch.
Confession is indeed good for the soul.
Confession has always allowed a good but dishonest man to sleep soundly.
To sleep long languorous hours on a cold winter’s night.
To sleep for an eternity without guilt or regrets
Under the hardened forgotten dirt of Clark Cemetery.
For I was the handsome one in derby hat
And only Lucy and I knew,
Only she and I knew intimately
About the patch of soft carpet-like grass,
There under the tall silent cedar tree
On Rideout Ranch.
Galactic race tactic was to avoid lactic acid
Build-up in muscles of space rowers seeded
Second in race around Milky Way star stud
In spacecraft flyers, human driven and blasted.
The crew of eight females well chosen and trained
For the galactic bathtub derby in space powered
By oars that warped space time when pulled,
By rowers in spacesuits with ropes on benches tied.
After the seventh star in the galaxy course was rounded.
Exhaustion set in, lactate built up, and muscles seized.
Rowers in agony, faces contorted in pain, panicked.
But then, they remembered their tactic and screamed.
"Drawdown now, we need that milk delivered."
Sound-tripped taps opened, milk from backpacks flowed,
Providing the last surge of power to win, with finish line crossed.
Galactic Milky Way race won, by tactical drawdown of milk lactated.
California Chrome’s bid for a triple crown was a no-go.
He didn’t win, he didn’t place. He didn’t even show.
The owners of the horse were hoping to pop the cork
at the Belmont Raceway in New York.
Down the drain went the hope for history with fortune and fame.
Many said the horse that won the Derby and the Preakness was not the same.
Loads of betters were disappointed. What a shame!
No thanks to another horse by the name of “Tonalist”,
another bid for a triple crown winner was missed.
Nobody will ever see me at the race tracks rambling.
No matter how you look at it, it’s still considered gambling.
Florence The Goat Lover – FV
She had a wicked laugh, witchlike
Bringing forth Gingerbread House Fright
She lived with goats
They walked through the house gladly
Front door was gone
She wore men’s clothing
Overalls, and she wore a black derby
Her gray hair stuck out in crazy ways
We were terrified of her
Florence, the Goat Lover gave us
Wild stories about black snakes
Curling around her tomatoes
She killed them with a hoe
Which she carried and shook at us
When she wanted to demonstrate
Her murdering ways,
She told us about hangings too.
She had seen them
In her days as a child.
We were mesmerized and terrified
Running out to be with her and her goats
Whenever we could as she walked between gardens.
The goat had a bell, which called us out of our childhood laziness.
The most interesting, frightening,
Terrifying non-woman-like woman
We had ever met, in our ten years of life.
Florence, our childhood hero.
She lived her life on her own terms,
Not caring about social norms or niceties.
She taught me it is okay to be me.
My childhood hero, who always
Shrieked a maniacal Tasmania Devil screech when she saw a snake.
Delighting us in her joy of a good kill.
Written 2-28-2019
Contest: What’s In a Name Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
I sit here
In a place where I have no fear
Will there be another score?
Does the crowd want more?
Chelsea is on top
While Arsenal should not want to stop
The cheery contingent wants the action
And the goals in this spectacle is the attraction
If the favorite ticket ends up a pay
The pub fly will gladly say
“The pensioners are here, and they will gladly pick up the tab for the beer”
But there is more time to go, carry on let’s get back to the show
A penalty kick was the trick
And the home team was able to gleam
One nil that was a nice fill
But them Gunners made up for that bad mistake
Getting a break away that left Chelsea in their wake
One to one was the score
Will there be more?
As the gunner goalie picked shots off
The beer settled making the blue shirts wonder who’s at fault.
As I leave cash for my mealtime turkey
Chelsea needs a goal without Arsenal doing another thing dirty
Time ticks away
I do say
This match may be a push which would be pain in my toosh
But during the late stage
A goal was written by Chelsea on the EPL page
Not much later the gunners stole the sporting pen
And the blue shirts were not able to defend
Having two shots on goal without a miss
A clear message was made that the game that doesn’t use hands or a fist,
This was not done
And in the stands, those wearing red asked the blue shirts ‘are we having fun’
These gunners do not need a lot just one good shot
To be honest damage was done with only the one
Making the Gunners walk away with all the fun.
Giving questions about those leaving with outbursts that were steaming
Looking about hearing those chanted shouts
The blue shirt cheers who had to pay for their beers
Thought this London Derby was not going to be a fight
But to those who were just watching it was exciting, right?
Two to two is what the scoreboard flashed
And the blue shirts only had a draw ticket to be cashed
Granted this was more money
For those who shed out more pounds just in case something happened that was funny
Chelsea and Arsenal find themselves tied
And hopefully no one cried
Since it was a nice entertaining evening where everyone gave it a good try
Got up at four
Scored some fresh bait the night before
Boat and tackle are loaded offshore
Going derby fishing at the reservoir
Needing to stop at the store
For some beverages ice and more
This is coming together so nice
Been looking forward to it for nights
Even got in a fight with my wife
It's just not right
How she was so not polite
She knows better than to get in my way
Especially when I have been planning this day
Spending it competing, derby fishing
No way I'm going to go missing
On a day I have been derby wishing
Finally in my boat underway
Making my getaway to go play
I am here for the rest of the day
Sun rising over the mountain tops
I have my favorite rod that just rocks
Going to blow their socks off
You know how all the fisherman talk
Most of them can't walk the walk
Off to my favorite rock where the fish flock
Already stalked it out for big fish
That will fulfill my derby wish
My pole in the water doing my thing
With plenty of bling, bling to fling to the fish
Then it happens, zing I felt the hook sting
My pole bent with me clinging to it
I knew that this is where the big ones dine
Reeling it in when the fish tried to snap the line
Had a heck of a time
This one is all mine
Just in time cause derby has a timeline
Reminding these fishermen
Who won the derby and had the most fun
Gee, I hate to run with this Trophy
But the derby is all done