Long Drifters Poems
Long Drifters Poems. Below are the most popular long Drifters by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Drifters poems by poem length and keyword.
The calm road hangs etched
Mountains frame their meanderings
Know the curve of each twist and turn
Along the path history has memory
Structured centuries ride on it with travelers
Strangers from the past rise on lofty roads
Come to life without word
Tumble past the mind as dust, wind and wild
In a concrete thought, stones lay down on solid dreams
At no cost to strangers lost in fog
Drifters tumble on the wind and wild
The drive remains the same in one direction
Nature adorns both sides with flowers
Constant vegetation is a cause to lead us on
Age grows changes, covers dirt
Knows great distances over the course
To find some comfort at the end of it
From the long journey down the road and gone
at the end of it and to that end
To find a way to back home
drifters we are
walking quietly through the night
the wonders of positivity opens new doors of beauty
what we see is all that is missing
what we discover are parts of life we never knew were glistening
with thumbs of exitement in the air we ready ourselves for what comes next
perhaps the gentle waters
perhaps that tranquil mountains
the element of surprise wows us like the taste cinnamon on our tongues
if we could die here we would, but instead we just wake up and plan
dreams are the art unknown and the stage unseen
behind all veils of the vibes are excursions breathtaking to whatever level eye
wanderers we are
strolling peacefully through the day
the amazement of the uplifting scenes crashing against the padlocks of our minds
as a result, we become optimistic beggars for more
the scent of all the arrows introduces us to gravitational blissfulness
in other words, God is Good....
In a world of filled of hate
Love is not the enough
We need a clean slate
We need to keep the Black life Matters
Movement, going to make a change
We have given up on believing
The superior, then there is the inferior
The rich and then there is the poor
The celebrities and there is the followers
Then comes action, follow by reactions:
Politics and politicians: riots and bigots
Beam us up Scotty: beam then down Lucifer
Lord of the Darkness …….
forces of chaos on Earth and in the netherworld.
I read this morning that Kanye W
Is thanking the lord for his $68 million refund
Here I am thanking the lord this morning
Not to be gun down, by the drifters
Or the boom, boom nightly firecrackers
Or to be sidetrack by mad ass co-workers,
Only if peace would come sooner,
And haters would vanish…..
Like the children of Hamlet town
Who owes the piper , should the darn pied piper
Ever since you've been gone..
I've been lonely for so long.
Ever since you left me..
There's nothing left but those memories.
Ever since we said goodbye...
I've been waiting all these lonely nights.
If only my love could ever get through...
I would find my way back to you.
Together in love..yet so far away.
As the night turns into day.
I've been reaching out for you..
Because no one loves you like I do.
I still remember yesterday...
Times just keeps on slipping away.
All these days have passed me by...
Just like faces in the sky.
Somewhere in this heart of mine..
That lonely road I left behind.
Like two drifters ... so far away..
Nothing we do can bring back yesterday.
So now I am letting go..
I am finding my way...down that lonely road.
With no guidance—love— or compliments from you
it is no wonder — why — she fell in love with men she never knew...
you never gave her one
which is why she didn't have a clue...
trying to fill a void much like pouring liquid through a sifter
attracted to spirits like yours — selfish drifters...
like you— they were soon three sheets in the wind
my God — will she ever learn how to choose better men?...
you made promises that you never kept
caused her to wear sadness like a waist belt— and oh my God how she wept...
she just couldn't figure out that it was not her — but you
she wore blame as deep as the sky is blue...
absent daddy don't you know that as a FATHER — you are —THE— most IMPORTANT MAN in her life?
but as a sperm donor — you set your baby-girl up for strife...
Inspired by the album "Words"..song titled; "Like a Woman"
by The Tony Rich Project"
When thoughts become obsessive,
is my heart being made redundant,
laid off, cast off, sent astray
recycled pulse rates mere skip hire fodder,
atrophied organ sinking into deep morass,
panic stricken warning notice object,
abject part indigenous scarred,
or scared from sudden rupture,
once a golden seal enactment,
the intensity of love and verdant pathways,
but thoughts they zigzag devious,
without a leash, curb or rein,
they stray like homeless after dark drifters
whose piercing blue eyes scupper vagrant mist,
but oh those torrid thoughts,
of past romantic Himalayan peaks,
where nostalgic loitering a back to front yen,
currency of tantalising moment,
fluctuating in a reckless high stake instrument,
cliff top shudder inadvertent plunge,
yet each thought I used to frolic with,
in meadows of a mythic mystic mind,
we’re so glare blind and delusional,
dragging me on circuitous dandelion epiphanies,
symbolising gurgle stream limestone cave exit,
some dual world attachment barely visible,
detachment on aloof scorched red wood boundary,
thoughts are like those joined at hip beings,
feeding off the actual mesmerizing carousel,
of fleeting guests and life events,
or so it seemed, perhaps it’s just a thought,
of all those things that never settle in one spot
You walk along the sandy beach
And you taste the salted air
You step on very tiny shells
As the wind blows through your hair
The ocean splashes on your feet
As your baking in the sun
You see a ship in the horizon
And children having fun
Surfers surfing atop the waves
And swimmers swim and float
Beach balls and sand castles on the shore
And fisherman in their boat
Lifeguards whistling at drifters at sea
And whistles at girls from the boys
Pigeons and seagulls and volleyball players
Creating some of the noise
Umbrellas, blankets, and burning tanners
And musclemen flexing their chests
Swimsuits, short shorts, and girls in bikinis
Showing off some of their breasts
Boardwalk walkers' walk into arcades
And they play the pinball machines
The teen-age gamers thinking they're cool
Wearing their cut-off and fringy new jeans
Pizza slice vendors sell sausage and peppers
With onions and fries on the side
More vendors sell ice-cream and cotton candy
And funnel cakes and zeppoli's- deep fried
So, today or tomorrow maybe go to the beach
Walk the boardwalk or just walk in the sun
When you go to the beach on a sunshiny day
No doubt- you'll get a tan and have fun!
No apples hung from this old tree,
No cherries blushed in summer light.
Instead it bore a stranger crop,
A harvest of humanity.
Upon the limbs they gathered there,
The dreamers, drifters, kings, and poor,
Each balanced on a different branch,
Yet rooted in the selfsame core.
Some climbed toward the palest clouds,
Convinced the heavens waited near.
Some clung to bark with weary hands,
Held fast by memory and fear.
One stood alone upon the top,
A tiny silhouette of pride,
While others searched the tangled maze
Of pathways winding deep inside.
The tree said nothing as they moved,
It judged no stumble, fall, or flight.
It simply stretched its wooden arms
And held them through the day and night.
Then suddenly I understood
The secret hidden in its form:
The tree was time.
The people, us.
Still reaching through another storm.
And the colored girls sing (A tribute to Lou Reed)
“Sugar Plum Fairy came and hit the streets”
Dragging the soul of a contender
who painted crooked lines and dotted futures
Spinning lies on the edges of gossamer wings,
then lickin her lips, black as night patterned velvet
while tracing underground sidewalks in glittered graffiti
and menu’d offerings
“Lookin' for soul food and a place to eat”
Digging in the pockets of her intended victims,
tossing lint to the curb in puddles of drool
Singing in a voice louder than her grumbling stomach
now exposed to the harsh winter of tomorrow
as foot soldier scarves in drab green
wrap her twisting ankles from the cold
“Went to the Apollo”
Standing in a long line for a ticket
to this sold out show, basking in the marquee lights
Collecting auditions from drifters
and finding her melody in a passing taxi,
yellow as her checkered present,
ignoring her cries to be ridden
“You should have seen him go, go, go”
Exhaust fumes mixed with knock off Channel #5
and scraping stiletto heels sparking on the emotions
of an ill fitting t-shirt with Lou Reed’s face stretched
to the limits of her darkly carved wild side,
she falls in line, fourth from the right
as metronome earrings sway in rhythm
“and the colored girls sing…”
The quoted lines are from the Lou Reed song, “Walk on the Wild Side”
Have we, in our wanderings through
storied lands, tramped upon
purple earth cradling the sleep of kings?
Perhaps, far beneath our ambling feet,
in crypts sealed by the amnesia of centuries,
in sarcophagi dusted with a memory of pomp,
there have been tyrants who lay with nightmares,
though long freed from the reign of maggots?
Have we stood, unknowing, above
the dried husk of a despot,
his memory scattered, yet
his hand still sticky with the blood of a thousand foes
and the quavering kisses of knights and cardinals?
Have our voices disturbed the secret repose
of a czar or caesar who was not sufficiently brutal
to slaughter hope or outlaw love?
Maybe our footsteps, soft as they were,
have echoed the roaring hooves of an army
sent to war not for rubies or territories,
but a woman’s heart?
And when you and I passed through,
on our wanderings across these storied, hoary lands,
we were two unchronicled drifters,
accidentally crowned by a wakeful moon above,
and, below, so much kingly slumber.