Long Highway Poems
Long Highway Poems. Below are the most popular long Highway by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Highway poems by poem length and keyword.
Grief and love and wonder
Can scarce exist in so frail a place
As my fragile heart
Daughter of the Most High King
Your wick is trimmed, your lamp is full
And I am sundered, torn apart
Long together have we journeyed
O’er a road, sometimes a highway
At times, a rocky trail
O that you would not leave me
Wander boldly on ahead
Thoughts that make my courage fail
Love that’s nearly bursting
Dams beneath the eyes assailed
Watching as you breath
Would that you would stay a bit
Tarry in my arms a while
Before you leave
Wonder that He called to you
For the great adventure
To that far-off shore
Grief and love and wonder
Treasures of a life with you
Who could ask for more?
Ponderable Thoughts
For September 2, 2020
By: Miracle Man
Compromise is the bridge uniting pro and con
the man who utters, “my way or the highway”
Is exposed as narcissistic.
Tom
Many prolong taking action,
fearful of what the reaction might be.
Sometimes a reaction has been harsher,
than the action that gave it birth.
Tom
Faith was my first step,
toward my ultimate destination.
Tom
Man’s biggest fear lies not in what he knows,
but of things that lie beyond his grasp.
Tom
We’re all just visitor’s on earth,
with a temporary lease on things in our possession.
Tom
Thinking we have all the answers evidences our ignorance,
knowing the one who does displays our intelligence.
Tom
Life sometimes forces us to climb mountains,
it also allows us to enjoy the valleys.
Tom
The dryer hums,
and my clothes are drying.
It rained earlier, but now
the sun is peering through clouds.
As I awaken, the morning is still.
I sit at a table in the front room
and it creaks.
When sifting through my poetic lines
I remember that each day
begins with a whisper.
I remember that around each turn
in the highway lies a surprise.
My thoughts turn to my days as a flagger
as if it is a previous life.
I remember
when there was one lane road
I turned my sign to control
the flow of traffic.
Some people I stopped
waved and smiled,
but in time I learned how
to let them go.
Each evening after work
I’d write a poem
and the librarian at the front desk
was a confidant, a friend.
They’d always offer praise
of how I could make a page come alive
while my fingers danced over the keys.
But now the quiet side street
in front of the house is broken.
I’ve called Public Works
but some things never change.
Now I’m back home
and learning to live again.
As a bird flies past my window
I think I’ll heat some leftovers
and go for a drive.
Defeated by Time
By: Tom Wright
2/8/03
His perch, a wagon seat high above the highway.
Directly in front----a four up; directly behind------a chuck wagon.
I've often wondered, what portion of life,
"Wagon John" has spent looking at the north end of a south bound mule.
What occupied his thoughts at sunrise,
and if it was always a new day's adventure.
Surely days came when the mere thought of another twelve hour day,
and unbearable heat were too much.
Was it always the adventure of the open country,
and what might lie beyond the next rise?
Did he just travel, or was there a clear cut destination?
But this is as it was,
Now, through the hourglass of life, whose orifice seems enlarged,
days are hastily escaping.
Moments ago it was spring, and life was young and crazy,
packed with innocent dreams.
But now, trees he once climbed no longer stand,
He's left frail of limb, and oft without steady hand.
His companions, dogs, mules, and Sugar foot, his mustang.
He dares not venture far from his steady supply of oxygen,
and his visions consist only of those glimpsed in his rear view mirror.
Though I have known "Wagon John" but for a few years,
the fellowship that we shared and the bonding that I felt,
money could never purchase.
where is the poem I always wanted to write?
The one that reminds people of the works of Samuel T. Coleridge?
Where is my Raven piece, which rivals Poe’s?
Where is the prancy-dancy write that sounds like Dr. Seuss?
Where is the poem I know is in me somewhere
The elusive poem that can be put to a melody
Transferring into CMA’s song of the year?
Where is that poem? The one I dance to as I construct it?
where is the poem that takes the reader’s soul away?
The poem that shakes them up and spits them out
Where is the poem that makes them shudder and scream?
Where is the poem that others wish they had written?
Where is the poem hidden in the shadow of my mind
The one that lurks just beneath my dendrite highway?
The elusive poem that I evades me, in blips and dashes
where is the poem I always wanted to write?
They bore the winds of time
as they rose from arid lands.
They sun poked past one peak
while my work crew waited
to move to another place on the highway,
and we knew the day would fade.
We knew
highways must always be mended
and the same with our lives.
We spoke in hushed voices
among these hills
made when the earth shifted.
Somewhere beyond rested
a blanket of stars.
We let traffic pass
and two of us held stop/slow signs
and they would stand at the ends
of the work zone.
Along the highway was a casino
and a bar. If we listened closely
we could hear a breeze tell a story
of the old west. Some patrons
gambled their fortunes every day
and they lived in shadows
of pioneers who gave their lives
for this land.
Every time something was lost
it would be time to start again.
One man I stopped said
that it rarely rained but when it did
it stormed.
To this day I envision him
when his house would shake to the sound of thunder
nestled under a deep cover of darkness.
It was a way of life to him.
Stakin' a claim on the left lane, ridin' that wide right turn
Hard to know just who's to blame for the drivin' you never learned
The concept of safe driving is a foreign thing to you
And soon you'll be arriving in to ev'ryone's rear view
That's not quite soon enough for me cause I'm stuck behind you
It's just my luck I drive a truck and you are who knows who
Heavenly Days, please change your ways and find some common sense
Cause claimin' you've the right of way makes no kind of sense
I'm dancin' on the rumble strips and dotted lines past highway signs
I just can't wait to relegate you to that good rear view of mine
Dancin' tween the rumble strips and dotted lines and highway signs
Hand dancin' on the steering wheel and makin' those hand signs
It makes me squeal and pound the wheel, please send them back in time
To Driver's Ed, those chowder heads wastin' all my precious time
I'm sure the deal you got was raw, but you ain't no kin of mine
And even Cain done raisin' Cain rued how he'd serve his time
You think I'm no authority, some random tandem yahoo
Just blowin' smoke some big rig joke who's criticizin' you
I'll tell you what, I'm sure you'll see what I can clearly see
When you're post-op that long overdue cranio-rectumectomy
The trigger was jammed and he prayed to the gods of war
For another bullet before he would say Farewell to Arms
Now he sits at Times Square begging for a few measly coins
Carries his memories and belongings on his scarred back
Rocks forward and backward and the screams never leave
They call him a hobo and drunkard and dislike his fragrance
Of destitution and bombed shelters with nowhere left to go
He wears a ragged bandana and lonely blood-stained stigma
Has sold his Purple Heart for a couple of meals at the food bank
Reminds himself that orders were orders and trenches are deep
With some luck they will scrape his remains off the highway to hell
Remove the obstacle of odorous self-righteousness from the streets
Plant a few poppies next to a crumbling cross bearing no name
And fool themselves that glorious battles reap sustainable death
24th December 2019
Baltimore cashmere fiskars tee-off
Building lines center points Centerville La Prada orange
Normal sesmatics North Carolina persuasions evident in my speech Forward Ultra Plus
Leaning torwards concrete discovers more
Interior Atlantic Cambridge clandestine
Bermuda temper-pedic Sealey SEALS ?? Evergreen
Miranda rights the west and the sand it’s etched in
The ta ta the Tatonik plates collide and intercept
As Life speaks only the devil intercedes
Revelon Remington' Winchester' Springfield
Browning Ruger Stealth
Alexi Morning Glory Lex Luger says
“Look at these traps set for my feet”
Lackland Jacksonville Fort Beautiful Baby sister says
“Zero-temperatures, Seal friend, catch my drift”
Little tree little bear Honey Brown touchdown
Land the metal I’m in the end zone now
Dangerfield Dangerzone Red-light special at the k-mart
Alburqurque Highway-6 city of the Purple Hearts
I-hop Utah sex drugs fast forward money stacked up
Anything you ask for
Charles Bukowski ate my girlfriend
He started with her head
Fiddled with her like finger food
Putty in his hands
Charles Bukowski took my girlfriend
Slapped her hard upside the face
Now she likes it dirty
So this poets been replaced
I'd like to say so long Charlie
As far as I'm concerned
You can hit the literary highway
Never to return
Charles Bukowski took my girlfriend
And showed her a good time
As I'm watching from the shallow end
Of my kiddie pool of simple rhyme
Charles Bukowski ate my girlfriend
Chewed her up then spit her out
Now that good for nothing Charlie
Is all she talks about