Long Engine Poems
Long Engine Poems. Below are the most popular long Engine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Engine poems by poem length and keyword.
“Whatsoever that be within us that feels, thinks, desires, and animates, is something celestial, divine, and, consequently, imperishable.” Quote by Aristotle
The aurora borealis glowed above us,
Beckoning us to the stars,
where meteoroids and asteroids challenge,
microgravity becomes our new reality.
stardust speckles our skin,
creating an ethereal glow.
I’m lost in your soul's windows,
diving into your solar plexus,
drowning in the Milky Way's whirlpool.
Our bodies sweat, cosmic confetti bursts,
celestial hallucinations haunt my mind,
my engine is ready to combust,
asteroid ashes and space dust swirl.
As our lifetime dissipates,
I stitch my lifelines to your skin,
in shimmering ink,
we await the encore of rebirth,
new bodies formed from cracked constellations,
descending from heaven's opalescent gate.
“Ain't love grand” is an old expression
Still applies after all these years
Age has no bearing, it's a life long affliction
Not gonna change, have no fear
The engine that drives us, helps us through
The good times and the bad
It's miles ahead of whatever comes second
The sweetest experience you could have
“Ain't love grand” you bet your sweet bippy
Without it, we're lost in a sea
A boring and mundane, existence we'd lead
Love sets our dear hearts free
So keep your eye out for that special lover
They're also looking for you
Don't give up hope, eventually you'll meet
And a lifelong affair will ensue
We have built the loom of velvet and of nerve,
wove thick silk over the glaring, naked Sun.
Then drowned the blinding beam we couldn't serve,
in this sweet, narcotic bliss: we have won.
We took the brilliant, cold, dissecting mind,
fused it to gut-rot, raw, animal lust -
two magnets locked, a Frankenstein refined,
embodied in a cage of breathing dust.
And in this meat-rigged, gloriously cursed frame,
we grope for truth like blind men feeling fire.
Adorning every scar with an ornate name,
enslaved by the wary design of desire.
Now rip the stitches. Tear the sacred shroud.
Unlace the golden corsets of the mind.
Shed the thick, perfumed armor of the proud,
and leave the clever, grasping self behind.
Peel back the skin, the ego, and the pride -
let the raw, incandescent engine flare.
There is no "you" or "I" to hide inside,
only the blinding light, stripped entirely bare.
Really cool engine with velocity voluptuousity
Antique like me, bronze teeth, with grill reflections
Car goes round and round doing eternal lefts
Egos and racers can't go right I guess
Call it strange when you drink and drive in circles
An old jalopy goes too slow when cops approach
Remember not to speak out loud when spinning out
Bars you visit frequently should serve booze for two
Earl is what you named your car and it gets thirsty too
Hide Beers from police when moving fast in traffic
If stopped, blame Earl for speeding
No other excuse will do
Don't look confused in headlights either
Bad things happen when you defile your old car
And turn it in to the local police for drinking
Racing in public is against the law and so is peeing
Shift to low gear before you take your car to jail
Created this Acrostic poem on 6/13/16 for “Rusted And Busted” Poetry Contest sponsored by: Casarah Nance
The guards said I couldn't make it
But, there's one not talking now.
He not talking now.
They’ll find him in the morning
When you hear that siren howl.
I've been running through the bushes,
Through the canyons and the trees.
Through the trees.
I've been running for my life baby.
I've been running to get free.
I'm riding on the night train,
The bus just takes too long.
Just too damn long.
No body there can know me
But the engine knows my song.
I’m going down Colorado.
Two days and I’ll be there.
Coming there.
I gots to find you woman,
Run my fingers through your hair.
Keep out of sight babe,
Stay low until I come.
I promised I’d come.
I’ll be knowin’ where to find you
If you keeps your porch light on.
Now they got those bright lights on me
But the lights they're turning black.
Slowly turning black.
I ain’t going’ back to Chino,
Got a bullet in my back.
Now if you see sweet Angeline,
Softly tell her that I'm done.
My freedom’s done.
But though my broken heart ain’t beatin’,
My soul keeps running on.
Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud,
Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud,
Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand,
Golden frame of a sea cradled land.
Fishing village, atmospheric hub,
Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub,
Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall,
Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool.
Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge,
Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge,
Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill,
Buzzards soar and wise hares are still.
Tin mine engine house, towering stack,
Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back,
White clay peak, geometrical and sleek,
Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep.
Moor-land, open, untamed, granite strewn,
Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune,
Tor and beacon, barrow and mound,
You’re in God’s own country,
When you walk this ground.
A sweet young thing comes to our humble abode
Once every month without fail
Sure ain't your average cleaner type person
She zooms through the place like a gale
A neighbour once noticed she had a cute li'l bum
I told him I wholeheartedly concur
We both could wind up with marital problems
Accused of being a couple of voyeurs
Once we thought of adopting this young sweetie
But her hubby would never agree
We had to settle for her once a month visits
Such a shame between you and me
It seems I might have lost my train of thought
My engine almost left the station
To get back to the fabulous job that she does
Sure appreciate her monthly visitation
© Jack Ellison 2013
~The Rhinoceros That Roared~
The Wrinkled skin of the Rhinoceros
Steel hard, no man can penetrate
The young buck on the tourist bus
Thought if he killed one, his lovers heart he could take.
He wanted to be a macho man...
But he was just a spoilt rich boy
He took his souped up jeep out there
He roared the engine of his favorite toy.
The horn of the Rhino he wanted to win
To give to the girl he loved, as a prize
It is supposed to be an aphrodisiac
But he was in for a great big surprise.
He faced the Rhino in his souped up jeep
The Rhino looked bored, if one can, so to speak…
Pedal to the metal, head on towards the horn
The wheels spun, the earth showered, the Rhino looked forlorn.
The jeep roared at the Rhino, who opened his mouth up wide
Just as the souped up idiot hit-and he drove on right inside
The Rhino swallowed and walked away with a jaunty gate
The girl he lost, he disappeared, for them it was to late…
Tales are told in whispered voice still through out the land
They tell of a Rhino who does strange things when his temper is fanned
His eyes flash, his feet spin, a horn beeps, and more
Just don’t get in front of him, because you can hear an engine roar…
©~GG~ 19/08/2012
The road's slant design, heaves us towards a gorge,
The mound split opened some centuries ago creating the chasm
Safe enough room for a photo opportunity soon to emerge,
Engine off, I secure my iPhone, lastly, seat belt unfasten.
My last day for my sojourn ends, as it to be a fortnight,
Luggage in the car's trunk, dressed for a journey home,
Plane ticket on my person and a call was made about the flight,
Out on the opposite side of the car, 98% charged on my iPhone.
I check my watch, two hours left before the final flight out,
Hilo is about a 45 minute drive away from this point,
Return this rental car, check-in process, it will be about,
An hour to chill at the airport, hope this picture wont disappoint.
Now above the expanse of a deactivating town of Kona,
Parked on a sloped hillside, I stand with unsettled eyes,
My fingers fumbles between the rings of a sun's corona,
In the scope of a late afternoon of the bluish gray skies.
A Kona hushed, belies a people preparing for a night life,
Maturing day's light begs the virgining rite of passage,
Anticipation bears down on me like lingerie would excite,
Checking my iPhone, seeing that its set and easy to manage.
Sky a little darker than before, a just horizon a blazing orange-yellow,
The moment will somehow happen in a seemingly literal flash,
Iphone camera icon hit as the time gap has gotten more narrow,
There the green light, right into the night for the sun doth crash.
When roof beams have stored old suitcases
and collected dust through generations
Timeless quality genuine leather, with respect for craft
// The faithful suitcase was packed
They hide secrets about unknown journeys
With salt water in the blood vessels, aboard on the steamship
Smell of pipe tobacco and salted fish in barrels
// The faithful suitcase was packed
Throw the anchor, arranged with ropes and the steam engine
Check the wind and the weather ... the fog is coming
They suppressed fear and headed for the open sea
// The faithful suitcase was packed
What do you have in your luggage
An antelope that was caught with lasso ?
A collection of old love poems ... words from heart
There and then, life was more important than gold
// The faithful suitcase was packed
27.01.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
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