Long Drive Poems
Long Drive Poems. Below are the most popular long Drive by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Drive poems by poem length and keyword.
The Christmas Visit
By Franklin Price
12/21/2015
Planning a Christmas visit
Is Not the easiest for me
Can't just jump into the car
And drive there casually
Have to stop the mail
Clean the house up all around
Lower thermostatic setting
Turn the water heater down
Let neighbors know we're leaving
Could they look out for our stuff?
Is that all there is to going?
No, I think that's not enough
Have to pack up all our clothes
Don't know just what we'll need
Grab the safe with all our papers
All the titles and the deed
Turn the lights to off
Except a small night lite or two
Wouldn't want a thief to trip and fall
And sue the hell right out of you
Looks like we have done it all
Checked all things on the list
Now unlock the door and go back in
To see what we have missed
I'm sure you don't go through this
When the Christmas all glow
Can't relate to what I've said
Just jump in the car and go
However it may happen
My visits always are the best
Even if the prep for leaving
Put my sanity to test
I probably shouldn't tell you this
But I think it's only right
I'm going to a dinner party
I'll be home again tonight
Your flick of eyeliner,
Tattoo's and beehive
A bit of rock and roll,
something of Jazz or Jive.
Your authentic words
ingrained in our memory
Listening to the beats,
tapping along to the melody.
The sultry, smokiness
the range of your voice,
We're right there with you
the moment you soar.
As you up the rhythm
taking us on a
Nostalgic, Jazz filled ride.
When we saw how they hounded you
We felt that knock to your pride.
Your determination,
uniqueness and drive
Inspired us women,
Man you did shine.
Watched you grasp onto the feeling's
to help release a little pressure.
Inhale the love before it became a bit lesser.
Back to Black when he went back to her.
You sang us through the hurt,
Coming down from the high.
We sang along with you,
We heard your heart sigh.
Walking around a little shattered and broken
A hole in your heart, alone and unspoken
Clutching to something to fill the void
Is it a hunger, a lack of nurturing and care.
When we need it the most hope somebody is there.
10/07/2021 contest- What makes you sigh. sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
I just want to live while I am alive,
I want you to get me out of this witless dive,
I want to drive through my memories,
You are not my subservient appetite.
I want to read you until you are alive,
I want to listen to you until you no longer share your archive,
You are nowhere near my quibbles,
And I am nothing but a mere turmoil.
The troubles you want to concise,
Doesn't make you anything near wise,
To make the conversation even smarter,
To not recognise your own voice like a shrewd pied piper.
The highway Life is full of marginalised sins,
The driver is the only witness by any means,
The nightlife cannot be reversed,
Now, you are never going to be nurtured.
I am drowning in the night,
You are running out of time,
You love to hide your loneliest crimes,
I love to be destroyed in my prime.
The heat was a change from our normal abode
a wonderful way to reside,
but when it is high at the noon of the day
it would be nice to stay cool inside.
A country so hot was a good place to be
where from routine and work we were free,
where the sunshine and sand of our holiday land
let us play all day long in the sea.
But next time we go we will fly on a plane
and find nice cool rooms to stay in,
the sun heated our caravan too hot by far
so we roasted like nuts in a tin.
Good luck to our friends they can drive on their own
to the land where they're toasted right through
for we'll only go where there's places to stay
with air-con and plenty to do.
We got bored in this land where there's nothing but sand,
though the natives were friendly, that's true,
but just sitting all day on beaches that way
is not what we’d normally do.
We had travelled so far with our caravan and car
with our friends that are really quite sweet
but in two thousand and four we learned a bit more
about things that we'll never repeat!
Ivor G Davies
It is simple things that which
are forgotten
Desecrated and defiled
Fossiled into the past
Isn't it you and I
Who make things simple
And that which is simple dazzle
How can I forget
How memory like a mirror
Always reflects on me saying
Don't stop dreaming
Don't stop loving
Don't stop believing
You cease to live if you cease
to
dream
Pave your own path
Drive your own passion
Seduce your own zeal
Never manipulate your own
destiny
Don't walk infront
Cuz no one might follow
Don't walk behind
Cuz no one might lead
In the dying embers of the day
On the banks of disparity and
despair
We find reasons to embrace
Those simple things.
Conquering the v o i d plaguing my soul
separating me from triumph toward iniquity’s pole…
I seek God to drive me within His salvation goal
forgiving me by His blood’s cleansing role.
Whenever v o i d fills my flawed humanity
making me long for comfort’s serenity…
I turn to the Lord’s restoring tranquility
reinvigorating me against insecurity.
Struggling due to the v o i d in my spirit
letting me fall into confusion’s pit…
I plead to the Almighty for His guiding wit
uplifting toward enlightening summit.
Afflicted by trials causing v o i d in my faithfulness
bringing me to grope in doubts’ darkness…
I yearn for the Saviour’s loving kindness
establishing by His Word’s reinforcing truthfulness.
Facing v o i d challenging my dedication
scoffing every pursuit to reach standard’s direction…
I cleave to Christ Who exemplifies perfection
straightening me by His exhortation and admonishing sanction.
Yielding to temptation exposing v o i d in my virtuous desire
pushing me to sink into carnality’s mire…
I cling to the Master Who can carry me to His sanctification fire
guarding me by His holiness’ transforming ire.
Conscious of the v o i d* in my service commitment
expressing heart’s compromise for world’s compliment…
I admit my frailty and beg for the Holy Ghost’s empowerment
strengthening me to fulfill my best by His gracious engagement.
*Psalm 119:126 It is time for thee, LORD, to work: for they have made void thy law.
August 6, 2021
2nd place, "The Void" Poetry Writing Premier Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker; judged on 8/11/2021.
If the cupboard under the stairs could talk
I wonder what it would say
Would it tell me of those who hid in it
When there was rent to pay
What about the poor frightened child
Back in nineteen forty
Locked inside it for hours at a time
Just for being naughty
It could tell of the granda who sheltered inside
When bombs landed on Spion Kop
Crouched inside, hands over his ears
So that he couldn’t hear the bombs drop
Does the cupboard remember the numerous times
When gran hid boxes of chocolates in there
She would go in and eat them on the sly
Because she was too greedy to share
We used to have a gas man
I think his name was Peter
He came about four times a year
To read our old gas meter
He’d open up the cupboard door
And illuminate the meter with his torch
He laughed when we told him that Grandma
Used a match to light a bulb in the porch
I remember when I was five
Playing hide and seek in the house
I was quietly sat in the cupboard
And came face to face with a mouse
He left a long trail of foil
He'd had Grandma’s chocolate for a meal
I got the blame and not the mouse
Imagine how that made me feel
During the war, it was sometimes the fashion
To use the cupboard under the stairs
For food that was on ration
People appreciated what was theirs
It was used as a pantry for Bacon,
Butter, sugar and powdered egg
Some people had extra coupons
While others had to beg
In nineteen ninety seven,
As I’m sure you are aware
Harry Potter, young wizard, at four Privet Drive
Lived in a cupboard under the stairs
Our cupboard is no longer there
And neither is the house
My grandma has passed away
And the chocolate-loving mouse
If you still have a cupboard
And it’s underneath the stairs
Just sit down and think awhile
What could have happened in there
He hated airports
Hated the check-ins
The waiting
The food
Hated the boarding pleasantries
Really hated children sitting beside him
Women, men
Hated flying
Hated anything he couldn’t control
Hated the final destination
Dollars in passport
Hated the drive
The uncertainty
No protection
Hated thinking back
Life in general
His failings
Hated civilians
Mortgage, talk
Kids, relationships
Memories
Finally
The briefing
The nod to old friends
The familiar touch of metal
He surveyed his surroundings
The task ahead
The ultimate failure of his life
Life itself.
The Road I Didn’t Take
The smell of fresh cut pine is
a balm to my soul as the crosscut saw
works its way through the wood, fine
saw dust sprinkles the floor.
The rough palms of my hands push
the plane over the fresh cut side
of the board curly shavings fall
to the floor as the uneven edges are smoothed.
The gentle tap of the wooden mallet
to drive the chisel into the wood is
a soothing sound to my ears, wood
chips litter the table as the dado joint forms.
The hammer is suspended in mid air
ready to strike as a distant bell assault’s
my ears and I awaken to realize I am
late for my shift in the pharmacy
counting pills and worrying about insurance.
China charges 1 million annually
For each panda in our zoos
If we won't pay in full
Then the pandas we will lose
Nasty Panda's the exception
No one wants him here or there
He was paid 1 million dollars
To abscond and disappear!
Here comes the Nasty Panda
~He's much more than you can bear
He's such a nasty panda
~He leaves cooties everywhere
Beware of Nasty Panda
~He do anything he please
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
~He eats shoots and leaves
I smelled him 'fore I seen 'em
That black and white pariah
Slippin' slidin' in my kitchen
On smooshy mushy pulp papaya
I yelled for him to stop
And I told him where to go
Wink and laugh was all he did
With a Homer Simpson "D'oh!"
Here comes the Nasty Panda
~He's much more than you can bear
He's such a nasty panda
~He leaves cooties everywhere
Beware of Nasty Panda
~He do anything he please
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
~He eats shoots and leaves
He hasn't bathed in ages
Masked by quarts of cheap cologne
His furry skin sweat-sticky
From the surface to the bone
Smelly cigar and boozy breath
Plus an air of upper-crust
Please keep your kids away
Cuz that nasty bear can cuss!
Here comes the Nasty Panda
~He's much more than you can bear
He's such a nasty panda
~He leaves cooties everywhere
Beware of Nasty Panda
~He do anything he please
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
~He eats shoots and leaves
If you meet up with Nasty Panda
Better turn around and run
You're bound to lose your money
And your wits before he's done
Don't shed tears for Nasty Panda
Cuz he likes the way things are
Don't forget to hide your keys
Else he'll drive off in your car!
Here comes the Nasty Panda
~He's much more than you can bear
He's such a nasty panda
~He leaves cooties everywhere
Beware of Nasty Panda
~He do anything he please
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
~He eats shoots and leaves
Here comes the Nasty Panda
~He's a scoundrel and a bum
He's such a nasty panda
~He's as nasty as they come
Beware of Nasty Panda
~He's gonna raise a stink
Stay clear of Nasty Panda
~He's much nastier than you think