Long Helmet Poems
Long Helmet Poems. Below are the most popular long Helmet by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Helmet poems by poem length and keyword.
Fill the car up, get us some burgers and coke.
Call my Antifa connection for the latest dope!
Bring a bottle of bricks, my hammer and workman's gloves.
Goggles, helmet and wait for an officer to shove.
I'm really out to bring down this nation!
I am here to be the newest Communist sensation!
Law breaking today is de riegur!
I have no time for any American laws, you hear?
Now don't go saying that millions died for me.
I got that new American dream, called "Free,Free,Free."
Let's hop in the car, turn on Throwback Jamz.
Don't forget the malt liquor, ice cold..in tall cans.
I don't want a job, have you lost your mind?
Got my free phone, just want brand new rags~any kind!
Listen up, kids, you each got a big old sack.
That's right, grab anything throw it in your sack!
Such fun, eh, to ruin all that we see?
Now bring the loot to the car, ruining country and family!
June 2, 2020
8pm PST
Poem 1215 * Previous counts off by 100..corrections later. Sorry.
Well I was feeling stir crazy and I needed to move
All juiced up you could say, with something to prove
So I strapped a helmet to my melon and headed for the door
No telling where I was heading, just feet to the floor
I hopped on my bike, closed my eyes and sped away
Letting go of all the stresses that led up to that day
To unwind I ride blind, and when I ride, I ride the rind
The watermelon kind, in the unexplored of my mind
So uphill to the clouds I inclined launching through fluff
My tire seeds flying from speed, the skies rough
The faster I pedaled the more seeds hit the clouds
Mixing with raindrops, growing like unruly crowds
These air born watermelon vines suspended in the sky
I couldn’t explain if I tried so don’t ask me why
It began to rain, but not your regular precipitation
Green and white orbs hurdle down without hesitation
Now I’m riding back home on a falling melon mountain
Exploding everywhere like a fruity citrus fountain
Sweet pink pulp showering the earth as they land
More seeds take root now and isn’t it grand!?
There isn’t a square foot not sprawling with melon
And if loving this is bad, well, call me a felon!
An endless supply of the sweetest summer slices
Who would have ever thought, if left to my own devices
My scenic bike ride up above would leave an orchard
For the whole world! And if you think that it’s absurd
Then YOUR bike is probably made of metal, and rubber tires
And maybe you are the one that has some crossed wires
So listen up honeydew, you may say I’m out of my gourd
But you cantaloupe being married to an idea you can’t afford
Squash the misconceptions and you just might really find
You’ll close your eyes, open your mind and love to ride the rind!
June 28, 2022
A Watermelon Fantasy Ride Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
The shattered glass on the wall shows a crooked reflection of the soul I once had,
That child smiles at me as if she can't see the life ahead- no time limit to her joy, no suffering in sight,
Bloodstained shadows envelop me, like the embrace of a home I've never been to.
I never thought i'd have to bid valediction to a memory i'd fabricated- but when you've been isolated in your realm and burdened by your creation, that child's light begins to fade...
The helmet on my head is forged from divine carcass: the spine of an unfortunate challenger.
My crown is my armour, my symbols of office, I can't risk my throne or my realm or my mind.
My sanity is spent but reality is bent to my bidding: I can't crack the facade if the illusion is the truth.
I wish I could have friends.
Like flowers like to have stems.
Which prop them up high.
I enjoy sitting at a table by the door.
Where people who aren’t my friends pass by.
I wish I could have friends.
But if I did…
I could be hit by a car.
On the way to see them.
So maybe having friends is dangerous.
I wish I had a helmet.
That could save me from being killed by circumstance.
I wish I could have friends.
I think I did in a past life.
Now, I sit in the cafe alone.
Except for my coffee, who doesn’t even like me.
I wish I could have friends.
Maybe someone in here does too.
Or I could write weird stories on my laptop.
Someone with my name got a coffee order too.
That doesn’t mean much to me.
I wish I could have friends.
So do they.
I put on my headphones.
And enjoy my coffee.
Summer boulder-boots wear my thoughts
Thoughts warmed by winter coat maligned in poison oak
With an indelicate left-breast
Pocket inscription stating the obvious
“Boys Don’t Cry”
(Simply put and rich in depth, obviously)
All together, together all.
All together one we go
Neurotically traipsing unreceptive asphalt
Summer boulder-boots wear my thoughts
Warmed-Itchy thoughts are spoke-spun thoughts
By a girl…ewww
(And also by the she I’m so unwanted by, obviously)
With an indelicate left-breast and dysfunctional vocal-cords
Who fit me for the boots and gave me the coat
(I paid for the boots)
The receipt for the boots, under the total
Obviously (or incidentally) stated
“Boys Don’t Cry”
All together, together all.
All together one we go
Neurotically traipsing unreceptive asphalt
Summer boulder-boots wear my thoughts
Dizzy-Swarmed-Bitchy thoughts deplete the air
The air is cosmonaut thin
(Though I suspect thick by astronaut standards)
My lungs protest
With dysfunctional vocal-cords
From an indelicate left-breast that has a flippin’ boot receipt stapled to it
I remove my space helmet to smell the roses
And then
(Quite obviously)
Cry Like It’s
1999
All together, together all.
All together one we go
Neurotically traipsing unreceptive asphalt
Muah!
2/2/2016
(Contest Rules: Use as many words that sound like:
bound, browned, clowned, crowned, drowned, found
frowned, gowned, ground, hound, mound, pound,
round).
On the forest ground, Fred quickly found
a small bird downed and interwound
inside a nest mound- brown twig bound;
looking around- she chirped a sound.
Inbound winds made the nest unbound!
The bird was round, blue feather-gowned,
and must go homebound to rebound-
away from hounds in the campground.
Now, in the background, was a foxhound!
Fred, helmet-crowned- with bird spellbound
inside downed nest- climbed up, branch-bound,
to rebound nest a safe compound.
The once-downed bird chirped thanks abound!
The newfound branch was safe and sound!
For turnaround, Fred was renowned!
Saved the downed bird- blue feather-gowned!
Contest: Nursery Rhyme 3
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Down where the cypress trees cease their singing,
And the sun-wrought chariots are known no more,
A velour quietude is slowly clinging,
To the chalcedony marble shore.
Here, the silver Lethe murmurs, slow and deep,
A lullaby to souls who wish to sleep.
No longer do I chase the fleeing day,
No longer do I fight the golden light,
For I have found the shades of quiet gray,
That anchors the everlasting night.
O, softest fall, more gentle than the dew,
That rests upon Persephone’s soft bed,
Here in this solemn, silver-shadowed view,
Where all the hasty, thrashing thoughts are dead.
The helmet of the King is set aside,
To watch the slow and silent shades abide.
No fear can enter through the granite gates,
Where poppies grow in fields of endless hush,
Only the peaceful, tranquil waiting waits,
Without a clamor or a sudden rush.
The air is cool, a breath of quiet stone,
That soothes the burning forehead of the mind,
I leave the weight of standing all alone,
And leave the restless, warring winds behind.
Here, where the soul is safe, from sorrow free,
Wrapped in the calm, unmoving dark, I lie,
The silent King smiles directly at me,
Beneath the vast and starry-hearted sky.
And in this sleep, the soul begins to know,
That darkness is the sweetest, quiet friend,
A noiseless river that does softly flow,
With peace and dream-filled silence at the end.
There is a grandeur in this cold, still deep,
Where nothing stirs, and nothing dares to scream,
A slow, profound, and monumental sleep,
Can wash away the memory of a dream.
I fall, I drift, into the tranquil void,
Where shadows dance in slow and steady time,
Where every anxious fragment is destroyed,
And all the darkness flows in gentle rhyme.
It is the welcome rest, the final rest,
The softest, deepest, desired release,
A quiet, silent, and forgotten quest,
That leaves the weary traveler at peace.
I met him a long, long time ago,
denim clad and dusty leather boots
sitting astride a motorcycle
He took off his helmet; I stumbled
only to stop dead on my hazed tracks
and crashed in his ocean sapphire eyes.
Scattered bouquets flowers wallpaper,
soft silky satin and remnant dreams.
Parched lilies quivers upon his grave
and falls arched over where it now laves
along with till dirt in the hot sun.
Death doesn't mourn, but devours lovely things
To savor every drop of anguish
and narrate the final threads of life
with a blithe attitude toward death.
5/17/2018
Poetry Contest: Best Free Verse Poem in May 2018'
Sponsored By: Laura Loo
lets double
check our gear
heavy duty
helmet topped with
a light an underneath
chin strap as well as
a body
harness
check
at least fifty yards of
rope with ten pitons
each and as many
carabiners comfortable
for one to
carry
check
now gather round
and take a look at
where we're hoping
to climb and yes i know
we are known as spelunkers
but this is more an orifice trip
it seems there is some
dissent about our descent
i assure you some of these
orifices are seemingly endless
dangerous but satisfying so by
a show of hands how many are we
just me
i see it's that
way that no one
truly wants to explore
just to stay safe and do the
usual two minutes in then out
but i i'm
going to give
her a go simple
foreplay in the shallows
of her bellybutton surely
to be taken in by the sheer
awe of
the unknown
but a sense of
fleshy familiarity yet
not knowing the feeling
of loneliness but that of being one
Form:
Like our smartphone powers us through our day
We have to learn to put God into play
In the most powerful way
He is in our hearts to stay
So we must start our day
Asking God for his protection when we pray
Against life's worst kind of infections
That trips us up allowing us to lose our direction
Our Lord with all his loving affection
Gives us a suit of armor to shield us from evil
We constantly feel that is ever so real
Knowing in Gods deal
He provides us with his holy seal
A suit of armor made of unpenetrable steel
Bearing the breastplate of righteousness
Allowing health happiness and good fortune
To make its way into our lives
Giving us a helmet of salvation
So we can be saved and redeemed
Throughout our duration
Of our time here in his creation
Learning and cultivating in his ways
Providing his mighty sword for our protection
Against satan's demons and warlords
When we put Gods armor on every day
We ensure satan will never take our soul away
Because we keep our faith and give God our trust
So all satans plans will be reduced to dust
Loving God is always a must
To stay far away from Satan's lust
Everything he promises is a bust
God is our moral crust
Whom we should never distrust