Long Headfirst Poems
Long Headfirst Poems. Below are the most popular long Headfirst by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Headfirst poems by poem length and keyword.
~My Bicycle~
Everybody had one - everyone but me...
Pedaling everywhere, laughing hysterically.
My brother had an idea; to the tip let us go,
You never know we may find some bits, and them we will show.
Digging in the tip, looking here and looking there,
First he found a frame and wheel, but of more bits we did despair.
Carrying our finds, a mouse-eaten seat, and one wheeled bike frame
We carried them triumphantly down the leafy wooded lane.
Where oh where to find a wheel, to build this marvelous machine?
It kept us pondering all day, as we scrubbed and made it clean.
The next day my prayers of the night, were answered and very soon
The old man who lived on the end knocked, and nearly made me swoon.
Standing there, a wheel in his hand, and mudguard over his shoulder
Declared he had seen us walk on by, and because he was that bit older.
He saw we wanted to build a bike, and of these parts we were short
He was the first gentleman I kissed, and thanked him as I was taught.
My dad had a tin of black paint, we found another of white;
We put the pieces together, it looked a bit of a fright.
One wheel was bigger than the other, the mud guard hung lopsided,
But we managed to make it look good, with love we had been guided.
I took my bike, my pride and joy, and sat on the mouse-eaten seat.
I then realised I couldn't ride it, when I lifted up my feet.
Through thick and thin and many a bruise, determined I was to learn
When oh joy, of joys, I won, but alas landed headfirst in the fern.
As I lay dazed a lump on my head, I saw a very strange sight,
Two legs standing over me, and a head blocking out the light.
The local bobby had seen my fall and come to rescue me;
"I really don't think it's safe to ride, on this black and white monstrosity."
My black and white bike of uneven wheels, lay there looking quite ill,
But I would not give up on it, and pushed it back up the hill.
Whooshing down, the wind in my hair, I felt exhilarated.
I passed the spot I last fell off, shut my eyes and kept my breath bated.
To try the brakes seemed a good idea, as round the corner I flew,
It was then I found that I had no brakes, so I had to use my shoe...
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang
back into the womb
versus being threatened
courtesy beastie boy gang
beating me to a pulp
after accurately discerning
being scared less pang
suddenly imagining myself
buffered, and buttressed
within zen Sibyl
prophet table Chinese philosophy
known as Yin and Yang.
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
haint got any got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
I'm so tired.
The machinery of my body feels like it's failing,
I'm grasping at the air praying there's something to hang onto,
I'm gritting my teeth and squinting my eyes in the struggle to see anything worth living for,
Because it all feels like it's over.
It feels like I dove headfirst into a shark tank with a nosebleed, and then convinced myself the sharks were approaching to save me.
I never got where I wanted to.
I don't see how I could get there anymore.
I keep following the centerline in the road,
Telling myself '5 steps then another 5 after that",
And I'm still here.
And I'm still nowhere.
I'm exhausted.
I've been working so hard to find anything that can make it stop hurting.
It doesn't.
I am in love with someone who cannot feel joy anymore.
He only feels anger.
I told him tonight he made me feel unwanted.
He told me he "doesn't know what I want him to say about that".
I wanted him to say he wanted me.
I know he does not.
He craves the convenience I bring.
He says he loves how I'm the only person he can treat this badly and I still love him.
I have begged him to treat me better.
He congratulates me for being treated badly, as if I allowed this with no hesitation. As if I should take pride in being his punching bag, because it makes him feel better.
I feel awful.
I feel like I am worth nothing to him but the satisfaction I can supply when he wants it.
I feel like the entire world blames me for this.
I went to a counselor who I thought could help me get out.
She asked me why I let him hit me.
I didn't go back to her.
I have left him, and he chiseled his way back into the frame of my life.
I have said everything I am supposed to say,
I have tried to be strong.
It feels like asking him to hurt me now.
It's been 6 years of this,
I didn't want this -
I don't let him do this,
I am stuck.
I am jobless, moneyless, and homeless without him.
I am isolated, I am literally thousands of miles from my family, and I am trying.
It just isn't working out.
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb
to escape unrelenting forbidding gloom.
perhaps cuz mine generation
nsync with baby boom.
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless (three plus) scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
yours truly haint got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish -
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
The Last Wall
By Kevin Robey
January 8, 2014
Captive in the grips of the oncoming downpour
He ventures into a scene drawn before him
Found the reasons to continue his current course
Back when he is young, where all dreams begin
Gripping the wheel of his war-torn Cadillac
Not caring if headlights stay on the broken path
Faster and faster the words he’ll never take back
Flashing in seams of imaginary cracks in the math
The rain pelting down on the hood with countless holes
Shot-out memories drain the gleam of the falling sea
Still he ventures through the road that once took his soul
Faith-based leap to this place plagued with uncertainty
Supernatural the way these wheels stay true
No rubber to grab the light between potholes
Still they keep reaching for something new
Speeding on through the darkness in his soul
The gates waiting ahead like teeth from diamond sins
His blood that was spilled over reasons still unknown
No restrain in place to slow his descent within
Faster and faster to where no lights are shown
The fear in his eyes betray his steady, able hands
Never knowing the way through this mile-high wall
His hands that stayed when he lost his final stand
Still shifting their way through his darkest falls
Picking up speed, the wall so tall it fills the sky
Front wheels picking up from the broken ground
Puts the pedal on the floor without asking why
Knowing beyond the walls the truth to be found
Crashing through the wall chaos falls like hail
Sprawling debris from casualties stay behind
Briefly bittersweet thoughts flash to unveil
Headfirst into the wheel by the crashes grand design
Bright lights wake him with blood in his chest
Heartbeat symphonies for the very first time
Bright eyes alive again with no lies to attest
Sun rising high above the crest that it climbed
Shining in ruins that no longer claim his heart
So he ventures into the streets with no names
Blinding shadows that once tore his soul apart
Back to the light, the road finally his to reclaim
*listening to...*
["Penetration" by Pedro the Lion]
What Goes Up, Must Come Down
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
~Different beliefs can be a blessing~
He was born on a chilly Saturday afternoon, sweet boy with lots of love,
we all knew he'd be very special because he had come from up above.
Tiny toes and a wrinkly face, such a sight for sore eyes to see,
what a blessing it is that God chose Joseph Thomas to be a part of me.
From a toddler to a teenager, soon in college after those days,
Joey married Layla his childhood crush, in love in a special way.
Soon I had grandchildren and how joyful my life became,
we weathered so many storms, but our family overcame.
On my last birthday I turned a tender young age of seventy,
sad news followed and we learned that nothing is a guarantee.
My Joey had been battling lymphoma at only forty years old,
we all gathered around the priest, for nothing could be controlled.
I stood there numb watching my son take his last short breath,
it seemed not too long ago I held him on my breast.
He grew great wings and flew above straight into the light,
I knew I would see him again, what a sorrowful delight.
My youngest daughter Caroline was pregnant with her first,
a gentle baby boy who came out backwards and headfirst!
I had the honor to hold little Tommy for the very first time,
I saw those brown eyes and I knew he was special and sublime.
Can it be true? Does my faith believe this to be our reality?
Can a soul be reborn into another child, a blessing of geniality?
My faith had been renewed and my perceptions had been overflowing,
I know deep down inside, Tommy holds the spirit of my Joey.
I believe the death of my sweet boy transmigrated into my grandson,
an embodiment of his soul with in, two spiritual bodies becoming one.
So amazing that Joey's spirit has again become earth bound,
this is why I believe what goes up....must come back down...
~Date Written: February 28, 2016~
No objection to cold weather, but...
ah jest wanna boomerang back into the womb
No matter birth canal
long since got breached,
countless scores of years
I quickly grew
impossible mission to plunge
(think Nestea commercial)
headfirst back into utero,
haint got any got any
handy dandy blues clue,
nonetheless said wish
I broach to you,
whether ye reside in Baku
Guangzhou
Kalamazoo
Kathmandu
Peru
Thimphu
Timbuktu.
Sudden pang roared awake
nsync like blazing saddles
hot enough to sizzle steak
torpid, humid, and
arrid extra dry to take
breath away analogous vacuumed
courtesy fire breathing dragon
chilling parched scales in great lake
already this doubting
Thomas doth hanker
for global warming yore
less than six months ago
geesh for goodness sake,
when Earth did bake
triple digit temperatures
no thirst could slake,
thus intravenous feeding
in tandem with trach
still inadequate to brake
yours truly did pine... for chill
against dehydration, ah only to wake,
when came the morrow,
where Jack and Jill
sweat buckets, this
before they climbed uphill
akin to madding crowd
clamoring, thirsting, gulping...
every last drop
essentially emptying damn
immense reservoir spill
futilely swilling parched lips till...
Old cranks shrugged off
exceptionally hot weather, and did scoff
younger generation's creature comforts
old geezers recalled
back in the day
as laddies and Tom boy
lassies did slough
no trespassing signs
skinny dipping after they shuck off
clothes giddily swinging
atop highest bough
playing hooky averse
learning would ever payoff
pitying other kids in school
former gathering rosebuds...
around lunchtime hunger
relishing stealing stroganoff
under nose of Mister Groff,
one former German World War II,
who colluded with American "boys"
despite heavily decorated luftwaffe
and posthumously honored
Veterans day getting last laugh!
Ronald was a tough old ram, the biggest of his breed
Daniel was a clipperman, renowned of shearing deed
Many sheep were sheared that day and woolless they had fled
Before those two met in affray and battled in the shed!
Ronald, he had seen old Wallace wrestled to the floor,
Mugged of his dignity and fleece, and knew that it was war
And seeing that his turn was nigh, his hooves he dug in deep
He'd fight and though perhaps he'd die, at least he'd die a sheep.
Daniel had no time to waste, he'd quotas set to keep
And unprepared, he reached in haste to take the waiting sheep
But Ronald steeled himself as Daniel took him by the horn
And, rearing, pulled himself away before he could be shorn.
Off-balance, Daniel stumbled, to Ronald's great delight
Onto his knees he tumbled as the shears flew out of sight
And Ronald now unhanded felt his victory increase
Protecting his sheep dignity and, likewise, his sheep fleece.
But Daniel was not beaten yet, he knew that he'd faced worse
His mind was still determined set, he rose up with a curse
But still he was unsteady and Ronald was a ram
His head was lowered ready and he charged the clipperman
Ronald's head met Daniel's side and toppled him again
This time headfirst and to collide his head against the grain.
Leaving, stunned, the clipperman upon the wooden floor
In final victory, the ram strolled out the open door.
But, alas, 'tis not the way that sheep triumph at last
And Daniel would not see the day that any sheep got past
Despite Ram Ronald's victor's pride, the shearer would not yield
So followed a less dignified pursuit around the field.
Ronald, he was fast and he had four legs matched to two
So Daniel was outclassed, if that was all that he could do,
But he also had a sheepdog and so Ronald was defeated
He would have had the victory, if Daniel hadn't cheated.
it’s the groaning, spoken
a feeling, bleeding, bruising
remembering the broken
silence in the heart who’s losing
it’s the story, unfolding
dark as a shadow, stolen
by the ghostly, scolding
even my breath is swollen
it’s the distance between hope
and the futility of grave doubting
oh, if only I knew how to cope
how my soul is shouting!
it’s the color, gray and bleak
too weary for salty tears I weep
a godforsaken place within, so weak
feelings this alive never come cheap
it’s the still of a quiet dawn
birds are chirping, so very calm
how is it, grief-stricken, I feel more like a pawn
than one who finds solace in the psalm
it’s the river bursting with grief
revealing revulsions, blinded by panic
gossamer stories will bring no relief
everywhere the skies look dark and manic
it’s the moment when I feel cursed
by the illness, growing dread and gloom
this endless shock – I’ve gone in headfirst
without hearing the One who arose from the tomb…
it’s His light, His gentling, His grace
that frees my soul so I know I can wait
beyond the fear that’s silenced by His embrace
I know that His love will surely resonate
Within my spirit, where I feel the flow
blessing away the fear that vexes my soul,
there is a glorious light that helps me to grow
despite the worries that cannot make me whole
Within my spirit, where love is gently noted
there is a part of me that praises Him for gifts
beyond what I can explain – I am so devoted
to this loving God whose kindness gently lifts.
it’s not that my fears are erased, but they’re moved
from the shadows of doubt and confusion,
to the background, without sound, where He proved
love is stronger than any fear or disillusion!
My sad story lacks glory, it's one of a kind,
I got tossed, lost and frightened, now I'm losing my mind.
After all it is Christmas, for one wish I care -
To get back with my buddies, please take me up there.
T'was the night before Christmas, on our last round,
Of delivering presents to this lovely town;
As we dropped the last parcel we broke out the wine,
Santa soon got too jolly and ran a stop sign.
First he swore, then he chuckled, and stomped on the brakes;
I first stumbled then toppled, that's all that it takes.
I fell hard off the darn sleigh, it wasn't a prank,
And I then landed headfirst into a snow bank.
Well, my pals did not notice there was one less elf,
Left abandoned I had to attend to myself;
I've been wandering here in a search of a clue
How to get back up there and back with my crew.
T'was the night before Christmas, not much of a crowd,
In the dark, cold and lonely, who could help me out?
Then I met a sweet lady, she said for a fee
She would take me "up there", if I would agree...
But, but then, oh my Goodness, oh Bother, oh Gosh!
She pulled down my green breeches, oh Jingle Bells Blush!
I kicked hard and screamed loud with all my elf's might,
That lady, so shady-like, gave me quite a fright!
On this night before Christmas I wish for a kind soul
That finds my way out and to the North Pole;
I will work so much harder the following year,
I will handpick all presents, help me please, dear!
I hear your sad song, friend, it's one of a kind,
And it's Christmas, it's gift time, so I'm going to find
The way out of this village and out of your mess!
I will take you up there in My Polar Express!
December 08, 2019