Long High gear Poems
Long High gear Poems. Below are the most popular long High gear by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long High gear poems by poem length and keyword.
Form: Monorhyme
Indigos, light workers, empaths are hear
Struggling to change the errors of yesteryear
Power, money, corruption and greed
Will no longer be the motive that leads
The 60's, the freedom, they tried with defiance
The ones in power had them silenced
Like darwins theory of evolution
We are born for the revolution
There is too much pain in the world we've created
The ones who have tried have been banished and sedated
With antidepressants, Ritalin and crack
A lot of the indigos have been held back
This change will come, but take many a year
When it is over, they'll be no more fear
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
Vanaheim be the gate ye see elated
Bravery and courage is what did appear
Appearance just like that one of Paul Revere
Remember now what he had advocated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
First of course he was moving in high gear
Gravity of mission not understated
Streaking across the western hemisphere
His words could be heard cyrstal clear
It's time for you to be all federated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
His words ran faster than speed of a light year
Ringing that all had become emancipated
So, to all take your own regins to commandeer
Just go tell fear to get the heck out of here
Cause now you know, I am associated
Light flashes in the southern hemisphere
Now you can continue to fly down the track
paradoxically my forlornness
profound
aggravation runs high gear
can't drown
thrash around
then toss back
the cover
dropping knees
shout out usher
soul yearns for God
yearns for closeness
yearns for boldness
spirit craves God
tears welling up
in sight
freed grips of plight
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived// * Inspired from Poet Brian Strand.
Written: February 10, 2022
1st place contest winner
A STRAND (1071) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
I changed my mind when you showed me the truth,
I tested each and every one of you,
I took my time, and did it in purpose,
I knew exactly what I was doing, because i tested the spirits,
I've been called a fool on many occasions,
Yet I knew it was never foolish, it's called intelligence,
I press in a little harder, because i want to see,
The face behind the makeup, so I know exactly what I'm seeing,
God hardwired me to pay attention to detail so many times,
That i notice things others might throw out without even trying,
I want to see what I'm up against, I am a watchman,
I wake up at the crack of dawn and pray against it,
The treasure I have is to watch my God intercede,
I wasn't aiming for their acceptance, or so they believe,
My heart has mourned losses, yet he reminds me I'm not lost,
I knew many of the positions he's placed me in would come with a higher cost,
I knew it would entail some abandonment, or cause my heart to cry,
But what you don't see are the tears I cry for you, and all the prayers in the middle of the night,
I'm not ashamed of the sensitivity of my spirit, or whatever draws me near,
He protects my heart day and night, he takes away the fear,
He directs the perspectives of my emotions and places then in order everytime,
He also uses them to bring me closer to him, to reflect, and see my own life,
My heart will still remain giving, and sometimes the most rewarding is when you can't see,
Because that is when faith kicks into high gear, disciplining the hour I first believed,
There is no lost cause when faith directs your steps, because it's really not about the outcomes at hand,
It's the frame of mind and heart to trust in His love, and walk with him hand in hand.
Its easy to become what you fear..
Could bring you down,or shift you into high gear
Embrace the hope you see in others..
A neighborhood filled with loving sisters and brothers
Love and care for eachothers..
Always a helping hand and some leftovers
Smiling faces in the streets,children playing in paradise
Come on over,check it out while we roll the dice..
June 29th 2012
Anne Lise & Arild Andresen
* Collabration with my lovely hub
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Tick tock the grandfather clock
Briefly stops before it pops
Twelve times then it will be midnight
The start of my birthday
That has fallen on hump day this year
As I let out a little cheer
That midnight is finally here
Now I'm going to drink a few beers
To celebrate this last year
Before I rest my head
And just run off to bed
Because my girl is spending the day
Flying away on my birthday
That has fallen on hump day this year
Smile on my face for I plan to play
On this hump day
At the time of the year
When old saint nick is here
And everybody is broke until next year
So I will celebrate my birthday
Just sitting here and drinking more beer
Because I have no fear
I'm going to kick this hump day into high gear
Hour after hour I gained more beer power
Surfing, wanting things to flower
Just hoping I will grow some willpower
Before I devour more beer on my birthday
That has fallen on hump day this year
Having a grand old time trying not to smear
All this beer that has got me jolly this year
Happy as can be one thing is clear
I'm starting to get low on cold beer
So out of fear, I chug another beer
To celebrate my birthday that has fallen
On hump day this year
Before I know it I'm up dancing singing a good cheer
Drinking another beer
Suddenly I found myself spinning around
Next thing I realize I'm laying face down
Laughing hysterically trying not to pee
As I pick myself up off the ground
To get a good look around
When I hear a familiar sound
Getting closer to me
That's when I see
Her sweet arms wrap around me
When she said off to bed Mr ed
I know a birthday boy who needs to be fed
As you can figure out how this birthday toy
Got read all on my birthday
That has fallen on hump day this year
When I drank this hump day away at play
And made the most of my birthday
Dreaming of foreplay
On my birthday this year
She won’t appreciate it. Don’t tell her.
But what if she is grateful.
Don’t be silly.
Some people might want me to tell them.
Not her. You know her.
I do not know her well, but my naysayer is in high gear.
It would be better if you just let her figure it out the hard way.
But if I could save her time.
She would resent you.
How do you know?
I just do.
I think about trying to sneak around the naysayer, but how?
She is a larger part of myself than my positive side.
Rearing her head in a loud angry way
Interjecting her opinions daily.
It is a quandary.
I pick up the phone three times.
Hanging up the second she answers all three times.
Forgetting about caller ID.
Luck Rides a Stick Horse
By Tom Wright
If good luck is what you're counting on
A stick horse will always be your steed.
Choose God and a job to rely on instead
Not Casino's or lottery to fill your need.
You can tell yourself that someone
Always wins and it just might be you.
But gamblers play the suckers game
Though your thinking might be true.
People feed quarters into slot machines
And at the tables they tirelessly play.
But most go home with pockets empty
Thinking tomorrow might be the day.
But just as sure as payday comes
They're Casino bound and in high gear.
Not seeing themselves for what they are
Dumb sheep, waiting for a shear.
Spinning Knee Man
His knees grew bigger and
steel strong until he was big.
Whenever he wanted to he could extend his knees (and it didn’t even hurt!) ten times as big.
That wasn’t a grotesque display
as it probably should be.
No one could see his flat, rounded triangular bone,
only see his pale hairy skin that covered his knee.
Shockingly no muscles damaged.
Shockingly no tendons and ligaments damaged.
He could spin his
knees and skin like a small chopper in high gear.
His role was to air deliver packages to homes. And deliver orphans to their new homes afar and near.
Doing both was highly rewarding. The community marvelled at his ability that was totally rare.
He joked that the best thing about it was
that he got to fly for free everywhere.
Spoken warriors, with rhythm words as their sound swords/
A poetry slam where words and body language put the audience in a sweaty heap/
the spectrum of a creative sound off between spoken word poetry rappers and new time jazz hipsters
has the club bustin' to the rafters/ expressive improvised creative pace and volume on the spot word dance/
man, like a spontaneous mind flow composition
of rap talkin' men and women cookin' up a stream of a consciousness groove/ yeah/ like I feel mile high now/
iconic on-stage impulses of slant rhyme life spoken word poetry/ back-n-forth they go/ words in high gear/ pedal to the metal/ on race, racial slurs, sex, who's doin' who, drive Bys, and TV shows/
like words driving' at a hundred MPH/
becoming telephone poles wizin' by/
high voltage sparks fly when spoken word funk meets uptown nu jazz poetry/
African American poets along with Native American spoken word artists come together to duel it out in a Poetry slam/
it helps to feel the natural flow of high energy words in this performance poetry slam jam/
No reading from pages, just memory’s embrace/
save the date bro It's live with no rewind/
this slam is somethin' else man/
you be reelin' in the feelin' when this Poetry jam becomes a fusion of rhythm word speak on struggles, courage, dreams, love, hip hop rap, and using voice beat drum licks in between word spit speak/
a landscape of uninhibited words with body drum chest thumps/ yo, do you see and feel what i'm sayin'
the dynamic instrument of a voice workin the mic to the crowd with MCs shouting back at ya while you be poppin your performance skills on stage/
the interplay between the mind and free spirit WTF thoughts be burnin the house down/
who's gonna wear the slam crown?
they be back flipping' and word trippin' these slam poets/
trying to outdo each other in a face off/
word lyricism with scat rap concepts/
diggin' deep into emceeing the joint/
keepin' the flow and staying on the beat
My memory is like an ill-tempered old car
that refuses to start
on cold, miserable mornings...
or sometimes stutters
and shudders to life
in fits and starts with rattling parts
Names and faces of those behind me
shrouded and clouded in thick exhaust fumes
'til memory resumes and smoke starts to clear
...oh, what was the year?
Then suddenly (without warning)
the engine revs high, and I start to fly
downhill fast, into the past
brakes not responding, gripping the wheel
too much to feel
that terrible fear- stuck in high gear...
Old trauma impacts like a car crash
re-living events that
don't always make sense
deadly debris and jumbled bits of trash
litter my head, feeling half-dead
confused, in a mild state of shock
Although a car is a useful thing-
sometimes it's safer to walk!