Long Highways Poems
Long Highways Poems. Below are the most popular long Highways by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Highways poems by poem length and keyword.
THE RIVER OF TAR
The River Of Tar
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The river of tar… an artery
A means to access the highways
Branching through capillaries of roads
Penetrating the Australian landscape
...
The river of tar weaves and wanders
Through cities, towns and villages
Along the coast, in the mountains
To the dessert land of the outback
…
The river of tar, provides the means
For a diverse population to live
A life blood for so many
Scattered through-out the land
…
The river of tar melds with the gravel
Reaching small towns away from the cities
Unites with the red dirt roads that access
Outback stations and dessert communities
…
The river of tar makes it possible, to
Grow and harvest the food we need
To mine and export the minerals
The fruit and vegetables that grow abundantly
…
The river of tar provides an access
To the ports to harvest the sea
For the tourists to experience
Our great Australian diversity
…
The river of tar a grey nomads dream
Living a life of adventure before dementure
Experiencing the pioneering spirit
Keeping so many small towns alive
…
The river of tar we owe our for-bares
The explorers, the pioneers, now long gone
Blazed the many roads we see today
Enabling everyone to see our great land
How that alien day flaunted the UFOs hiding in strange places. The media portrays a cosmic secret of secrets that is now known to millions. School crossing guards fretfully scan the skies as they cross the street, holding small hands. UFO ladies of the neighborhood, document strange lights in the sky, and Mr. Smith down the street. The shocking behavior of the neighborhood watch groups highlights the perverse entity called "The City". Where "Quasimoto", types tear down this "house of cards". The current screenplay is to test dangerous chemicals, hoping to find the "new drug", one that takes one back to normalcy, the most in-demand but the least known place. And the government knows it's doing its part in the development of godless men. Soon, the people will merge with machines so that they may take our sins, to one day be melted down to baseless metal and tossed onto the side of deserted highways. Stories of enlightened Cadillacs proposing a heavenly garage and looking forward to their antiqueness and silently rusting away. To be studied in future times, how machines became human and humans became machines, yet no one could tell the difference. They had to burn their finger on the stove to see if it hurt. Or feel like doing some inane act for someone. Sometimes one has to take a nip of that old 3in1 oil, just to get the day started!
Part One
Down to Jerico
What does it mean to be stripped, naked and bare?/Left for no reason/And the subject "Don't Care!"/Are exits an entrance and a "either" a "Or"/ Do folks stick around when the lesson's not "more"/"Like" is a stop sign yet the Yield not a "See"/ Highways and try may for the time's set on "Me!"/ What does the difference say when the walks just a "pass"/Then there's the question of "Who's going to last?"/Not just a stranger but a heart with a hand/ Down for the count with a here and a stand/Your say is a Person , He's the season so smile/ Up is the reason and the lesson's your mile/ Long list of details for a 1 to a 10/ For no and a never in a war for a win/ So is the subject and the maybe a mere/ The with is a word and a wound by a near/The reason's a recall in a collect not a phone/ Here for the bind and then wine from a stone/ Is there a down and around for a chase/ Just what does in mean in this human race?
Those BURMA SHAVE signs used to give us kids something to do,
As down the highways and byways in our 1935 Dodge we flew!
The chef-d'oeuvre from the quills of very creative poets flowed,
Nailed to fence posts for our cultural enlightenment along the road!
Take note of this sign young reader as you pass this way!
In just a little while you too will be hoary and gray!
And like your Pa with steady hand be true and brave,
As you wield that straight razor usin' BURMA SHAVE!
She told her beau, "You remind me of a thug,
With that scraggly stubble sproutin' on yer mug!
If its my hugs and kisses that you crave,
Best ya start usin' BURMA SHAVE!"
The feller tried over and over to get a job,
But potential bosses thought him a slob!
Never apply for work looking like a knave!
Use gobs of BURMA SHAVE when you shave!
With her feller Mabel had a beef.
Claude's stubble caused her grief!
Said she, "Yer wreckin' our romance!
Ever thought of usin' BURMA SHAVE by chance?"
If on your mug you are well endowed
With stubble of which you're not proud
In the mornin' after yer kisser you scrub,
Liberally slather with BURMA SHAVE, old Bub!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
In the twilight of youthful dreams, where shadows danced with whispers of hope,
He fled at eighteen, with a heart full of wanderlust, despising the confines of his small town,
With a smile etched on his lips, freed from the frown of familiarity,
The world called to him, a vast canvas waiting for his touch, a realm of endless possibilities.
He traveled through the landscape of his desires, in improvised and bold ways,
Hitchhiking on the highways of uncertainty, sneaking onto trains like a phantom,
And when desperation called, he hid in hidden corners, a fugitive from convention,
Often drenched by the gusts of rain, the sky weeping as he chased the horizon.
For two years, he pursued his dreams, a vagabond on the path of self-discovery,
With each passing day, wisdom blossomed within him, revealing life's true visage,
A tapestry neither peach nor cream, but woven with threads of joy and sorrow,
And slowly, a sigh for home and hearth whispered through his soul, an echo of belonging.
The journey brought him back, to the door he had left behind, a prodigal son in search of solace,
But when he knocked, the resonance felt foreign, the essence of "home" transformed,
The place he had left had changed, just as he had, in the tide of time and experience,
And there, in the twilight of his quest, he stood, a mosaic of dreams and reality,
A soul forever marked by the dance of shadows and the pursuit of the mystical unknown.
In the land where sunshine kisses the sand,
Florida's shores, a technological hand.
Through wires and waves, its eyes ever keen,
Tracking our steps, in this digital scene.
From Tampa Bay's gleam to Miami's bright glow,
Smart devices whisper, so the records can grow.
Data points captured, where we roam and wander,
An unseen web woven, our movements to ponder.
Satellites above, their watchful gaze,
Pinpointing our positions, tracking our ways.
Cameras on highways, peering through the night,
Capturing each moment, tucked out of sight.
Through algorithms and code, a watchful domain,
Florida's digital realm, a comprehensive campaign.
Our habits, preferences, every click and tap,
In the depths of servers, they securely map.
But let us not fret, for technology's reach,
Can also empower, bring knowledge and teach.
In this digital age, where boundaries blur,
Florida's advancements, a path to explore.
So, let us embrace, the wonders it brings,
The knowledge it shares, the songs it sings.
But mindful we stay, as guardians of our privacy,
In this realm of connectivity and great ingenuity.
The road from there to here I found not on a map,
Nor blueprint made to keep things mostly on a track.
It was early then, few reasons why to tip my cap,
At future days whose seasons respect I did lack.
A retirement plan was out of the question,
Getting old just not part of the big missing plan,
From highways I left to be free from congestion,
For the open road was mine, a blue blue-eyed man.
The days that came I would never change to endure,
For they were full of magic and fights to account,
And growing younger by the day so for fun for sure,
Youth’s great secret is to make every moment count.
Yet ironic today is the owl who appeared,
Looking in my eyes he hooted- then disappeared.
Manger Shadow
A shadow lurks behind the manger bed
Swaddled by indifference,
Creeping behind
Lowing cows
And
Bleating sheep,
Power without power raising up a hoary head
While in vanity dim shades attempt to weave
A gloomy thread into the scent
Of frankincense
And
Myrrh;
Endeavoring to cover ears of prophecy,
Encouraging ignorance
With busyness in crowded streets
Of travelers taxed,
Bowed down with burdens;
No Gloria’s heaven sent
As shadows pass in front of starlight
On highways straight
Deserts wild
Mountains leveled
And star-struck strangers
Asking only for directions;
Where flowers,
Blooming in the wilderness,
Lay trampled
Beneath pilgrim’s feet;
Trying to drown out
Amen
And
In Excelsis Deo
Shouted out in triumph
To wide eyes
Keeping watch
Beneath olive trees
Rather
Longing to smother a baby’s breath
With a snarl,
Rejoicing only in the anticipated silence;
To leave no room at the inn
For goodwill
Or
Shalom Eternal
Yet cower in a nightmare’s chaos,
Breath held in,
For a kingdom lost by victory
Already claimed;
Futility, the unwelcomed guest,
Birthing fury
That pounds upon the chest of truth,
Stalking the Word protected
By holiness,
Claiming dice unfairly loaded
To howl
In rage
As justice and as peace now kiss –
As swords and spears
Rise up
As plows and pruning hooks
To tend the vineyard of the King
Then sing out the great glad tidings
On a mountaintop
Where people walk out of darkness
Into light.
defy gravity,
defy gravity,
claim your slip,
secured by unseen spirits
many times, your journeys have fed asphalt to your
dreams, lifting highways above simple paths.....
now, the end has been seen many years before,
small children know!
they look at you and smile
small children know........
they look at you and smile
only pushcarts burdened with lies,
drown in tears.....
ice cream taken in small amounts
is as close as I will get,
close,
as I
will get
highways have lost their novelty
give me those battered back roads
i will take those unexpected twists and turns
i will enjoy scenes of dilapidated houses and abandoned general stores
let me have a creek, river, or part of a bigger lake
include with that a wild animal sighting and a bunch of different types of trees
i am alright....and perhaps getting older....but what's age got to do with personal choice
i just have a newly appreciated zest for a laid back type of drive
i just may stop and get me an apple
i just may take myself a break and eat a peach
i just may even open up my mind enough to grab some peanuts
if arrows point to a park, i just may make it my rest stop
actually, i really need to stop at one of those old gas stations
i have a taste for a cold blue cream soda and some vinegar and salt potato chips
yeah, you can get them anywhere, but it just does not have that same feel
highways have lost their mass appeal
lead me on, oh my beautiful, wonderful battered back roads
you have inspired the love infinity within me