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.
A very touching version of Clement Moore's 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. A warm tribute to all dispatchers & police officers everywhere.
T’was the night before Christmas, and all throughout comm.
We sat at our consoles, expecting it calm
the Dispatchers with their headsets, the CAD in high gear.
I looked at my computer, and the phones waiting to hear.
I started my dinner, the microwave to ding,
of course at that time a 911 call did ring
An intruder was the call, per the person on the phone
My dinner was interrupted by the ole’ hot tone.
The address was given, and with a flash officers flew
their cars going code-3, Their lights red & blue
Stay on with the caller, We need more was their request,
Typical, telling us how to do our job, was our quiet jest
Now this being Christmas, Santa was hard at his job
He could never imagine, being accused of intent to rob
2 cookies from the plate, and milk from the glass
While giving out gifts, he didn’t expect any “sass”
He first heard the growl, and then the dog gave a bark
Everyone was out of the bed, quick as a lark
Santa heard them start to shuffle, and knew it had begun
When someone yelled I have a gun, and we’ve called 911.
Officers set up a perimeter, and a command post
They had a K-9 enroute, this suspect is toast.
The Dispatcher remained calm; kept the caller on the phone
Obtained a description of the man, let them know they weren’t alone
Dressed in red and white, his belt and boots all in black.
Santa said I will give you all coal, plus I’m taking your things back.
Officer’s then gave a code-4, just a man giving out toys
We figured with this shift it would be Taser deployed.
Our blood pressure came down, still maybe up 10
The family went back to bed, to sleep once again.
Santa said thanks to the officers, with their badges and guns,
He said a special thanks to those who calmly answered 911.
Thus I re-heated my dinner it was only 2 hours old
But working in dispatch, food is better eaten sometimes cold.
Santa flew over the comm. center, later that night
And we heard him yell out, as he flew out of sight.
Thank you for answering all of those 911 calls
Your pride and professionalism make Holidays Merry for all.
May you all have a safe and wonderful Christmas Holiday.
I spoke, in detail,
Of sadness and pain,
But where there is arid desolation
There will one day come rain
The joys of living are many
And hard to list for me,
Though I shall try,
I trust your patience I will see
My highest high, my greatest thrill,
I suspect only musicians would understand,
I wonder myself, still...
When a group "clicks" into high gear,
And you improvise together as one,
And suddenly four , five, or six,
Become as one, and you do not need any tricks...
I get goosebumps, ecstasy to the max...
No drugs, sex, love, good fortune, or manner to relax...
Can compare with it...and that says alot...
Yes, number one is easy, now it gets real hard...
I suppose you'd think love of a good mate,
Or close family....and that would be hard to top,
but I can think of one thing that does...
The unsolicited, and anonymous help
I have be fortunate enough to provide on occasion,
(I have to watch my spelling or Sue Mason will be on me
like a fly on sugar- a service, I consider, cause she keeps
me on my toes, and I do not resent that- thank you Sue,
hope you're well, and happy holidays!!!!)
Once I saw an old woman, carefully shopping in
a deli, basics, eggs, milk, bread, etc- obviously watching each
penny- I paid her bill in advance,and then some, while she
was busy searching for something. It gave me a high like
I guess heroin does for junkies...I have done this several times,
and the feeling I derive is awesome- and I'm no angel,
trust me. Anyway, back to our poem. All you new members, welcome, and yes, I
am a madman!)
Next, true love with a mate, soulmate, one held in
your arms, who you never want to let go....and close
family.....sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, others...
and this is one male who admits women are far better
at expressing this kind of love, especially for their children.
Religion is up there...although any extremist of any
religion does not know God, no matter what his or
her protestations may claim. (Boy, am I getting my money's worth
out of Sue Mason tonight!!!)
From this point, I think it gets too hazy, too personal,
and we daren't get too persnickety.
But if you are a member of the Soup,
you are obviously two steps ahead of most.
So welcome, and Happy Holidays to all.
I aged a small number of hours,
none the worse
since posting about Daylight Savings Time,
a radiant playful verse
teasingly succeeded against being terse,
a cogent tangential thread,
where passage of "time"
ranks front and center
this central theme constitutes cultish obsession
with vibrant youthfulness
as if senescence a crime imposed
(at birth) on every purse
son, thus a healthy and prominant grow wing
(nee bursting out all over)
market and cottage industries didst swing
into high gear (make that overdrive)
addressing telomeres shortcomings
justifies tamper ring
with chromosomal genes
to sustain bug eyed sales figures,
asper amazing grace full spy king
scales into the stratosphere,
with cosmetic surgeons hoe ping
where, (particularly among
baby boomer generation)
appear younger looking than offspring
(albeit, whereat either gender undergoing
bust ting bosoms and tightening tushies)
to foster said tune, where billions of dollars
come into play, I haint joe king
this feeding frenzy removing without a trace
(of surgeon's needle) unsightly wrinkles,
stretch marks, blemishes, et cetera
(over a life time) fulfilling vanity
in the name of eternal quest to dupe biology
paying mega bucks postponing twilight/ evening
years not yielding to depredations when dotage
a stark reminder what natural aging doth bring
superficial (skin deep) transformations,
which cannot reboot major organs
allowing elderly to rock with van
halen again, since primary maximal apex
i.e. post adolescence/
early adulthood marked urban
boisterous antics, the tacitly accepted behavior,
that would appear down right foolish
as if elders played kick the can
if chronologically old geezers let Mother Nature
rightfully round up steering committee
gently rowing rickety ship of lovely bones
dutifully paying (chump change) to the bargeman.
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
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
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
haint gonna mock ridiculous science
asper to be bled
dark practices to leech out mailer daemons,
not so laughable nor in cred
double, when oppressed diabolical dread
oompah loompah fealty l'chaim fled
as hand grenades explode within my head
mettlesome monsters
make mercuric chrome dome feel like a led
zeppelin with fractured stairway to heaven in stead...
delivers me zombies, where angels fear to tread
cuz, the devil and psyche did wed
shotgun Swedish crow did house mafia style
wrenched, wrested wretched
mental state most intense (no croc) dial
shattered, slewed, splintered sanity,
thus practitioner with "FAKE" know how aisle
apprentice Aunt Roadie,
who will skewer me evil spirits den da deuce
till I beak home one sacrificed overly cooked goose
a burnt offering shish kabob
no longer able to raise cane on the loose
like a red bull
rocky on the shoals of a frantically angry moose
livid with rage
(akin to diary of mad a housewife)
entropy written, where death will be only truce
pyromaniac qua ramshackle shanty (tinderbox)
unleashes wicked zeal
hellacious incendiary juiced ride
up plies noisome rubbery odor,
sans hot wheel
along the outer limits of functionality explosions
precipitate like drops of molten steel
routing hunger, searing nostrils,
tearing tenuous fragile tethered tendrils
self cannibalizing via tooth and nine inch nail
linkedin with nauseousness as thine meal
exemplary asper full blown panic attack
lodged within mine genetic
blooper imprinted within
threaded helical deoxyribonucleic acid deal
like a thunderbolt out of the blue
sympathetic nervous system
thrust in high gear with no warning and/or clue
finding spouse helpless asper what to do.
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.
got to the station before the tank became empty
the gauge had been falling for quite some time
need a replacement with a turbo valve which is a trendy
get rid of this old pump which is a real lime.
the fuel in the tank is much like the ol’ days
sluggish and stalls when I drive in high gear
no pep in my step, the throttle sticks and stays
plenty of smoke stifling me I choke with fear
in and out of the shop so many of my trips
titrating the octane to get the most thrust
hook up to the pacer tracer to see the engine drips
am told my crankcase is clogged but won’t combust.
had been hoping to drive down victory lane
scan the waves of those classy cars
now with plenty of grime and strain
I just idle under those million of stars.
an overhaul would surely make me glow
run with an ejection fracture of over 60 percent
glide to the tune of ‘go daddy go’
getting out of this mud and descent
new filters and gas lines connecting all
boosting up my compression horsepower
never to sputter again and stall
will make good time during the rush hour
will need to get a spot n the garage
match up my specs with spotty new parts
do the sponge count and then a massage
RPM’s steady, all is a go on the charts.
tachs are perfect, no signs of fault
transferring now to air valve inlets
open chambers slowly and do not halt
at first turn over, place your bets
cheers from the side lines all is well
engine purring no pings or dings
successful transfer just listen to the bell
shifting gears to route 66, freedom now rings
analogy of "a new heart"
Mom and dad tried to raise us kids right,
tucked us into bed early each night,
taught us we should always say a prayer,
because the devil lurked everywhere...
That the Good Lord would keep us safe,
no matter what problems we faced,
that He'd watch over us from above,
that a forgiving heart, He'd always love,
But I didn't care, try or see why,
I'd been told the right ways to live by,
and the devil kept on closing in,
that's when all my problems begin,
I ran the streets real late at night,
learned real quick how to fight,
Mom and dad got so uptight,
me coming home at morning light,
I really started messing up at school,
thought that I was just too cool,
and didn't need to live by any Golden Rule,
My oh my, was I a fool,
And that's when more problems begin,
as the devil lurked around every bend,
but I didn't care or reason why...
as I stared the devil in his eye,
I started smoking pot and cigarettes,
through all the coughing, choking regrets,
shooting dice and making bets,
stealing things to pay my debts,
Then I started drinking whiskey and beer,
skipping school, I had no fear,
the devil had me in high gear,
but then I recalled, God was always near,
Yes, the Good Lord opened both of my eyes,
and rescued me from a certain demise,
through all of my past sin and pain,
He's with me watching over me again,
Mom and dad tried to raise us kids right,
tucked us into bed early each night,
as I keep their reminders safe in prayer,
I also pray for everyone, everywhere.