Long Hurrah Poems
Long Hurrah Poems. Below are the most popular long Hurrah by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hurrah poems by poem length and keyword.
In 1894, Annie climbed on a bike
Told the doubters to take a hike
Planned to cycle cross the planet, found sponsors, took a gun
Though she died 50 years after, her legend had begun.
How much is embellished, it's hard to say,
She used steamships to bridge gaps along the way.
But thousands of miles she rode alone,
While today's rebels seldom leave their phone.
She was an unlikely athlete, she weighed just 100 pounds
Her orthodox Jewish Husband didn't keep her in bounds
She hadn't ridden a bike until a few days before her trip
But she ignored those details and let adventure rip.
A sponsor, Londonderry water, gave her her name
And as Annie Londonderry, she won her fame.
From Paris to Marseille, a hurt foot rested on a handlebar
Still made it in two weeks, gave skeptics their first jar.
She reached Yokohama, took a boat to Frisco
Rode to L.A. Arizona, on a roll to El Paso
She rode beside tracks, a horse accident drew blood
But she hopped trains in Nebraska, because the roads were mud
In Iowa she hit a group of pigs, and broke her wrist
But she wasn't stopping now, no fading in the mist
She wore a cast until she made the goal and won the prize
Fourteen days before deadline, with triumph in her eyes.
You may never have heard of Mrs. Londonderry
She told lots of tall tales - roguish and merry
But still she was a pioneer, a racer and tough
An adventuress made mostly of the right stuff.
She had children, a business, yet we can agree
She showed the 1890's; how bold a spirit could be.
She didn't have money; she earned money along the way
with talks and ads, could you do that today?
Could you cycle through North Africa, Yemen, Saigon?
Or would ideologues stop you, from continuing on?
So for those who remember, let's give a Hurrah
For those who have moxie, and a dose of Chutzpah.
I am on my way;
To the happy way;
On happy trails;
There's no better place, than this place;
Other than an open-place in heaven;
And here in happy trails, there'll be no dangerous animals;
Here in happy trails, the lion just kisses the lamb;
Here in happy trails, emotions are silents there's no more hatred;
No more crimes;
and those people of colors
those visions of tans, browns, blacks and bronzes
All varieties, all ethnicity, creeds, colors all welcome
We sit on the lawns of entitlement
We stand for the rights of everyone
No more fighting
No more shame
No more calling out of one's name
And there is nothing but peace here
and there is nothing but love brewing
and the person of colors calling each other sisters and brothers
Embracing each other hurrah!
The that silent hallelujah
Being shouted all over
I am on my way;
To the happy way;
On happy trails;
There's no better place, than this place;
There's no better place, than this place;
Come to me I'll give you an Holy Kiss;
Something you maybe need, I'd no you've missed;
This I must, I must insist
We're on our way;
To the happy way;
On happy trails;
There's no better place, than this place;
Other than an open-place in heaven;
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019
Camera zoom...Boom - Boom shakes the room
All eyes on the prize
Rise & lies of franchise
Moolah the crueler ruler
Sparking doom and gloom
Marking Test cricket’s demise
If there is a golden ticket
Doing his bit to save it
King of swing..ping and kerching
Another out of orbit gambit
Harder to decipher than sanskrit
Sure fire hit…well it has to be Jasprit
Vortex vex…whippier…that flex…nippier
That stammer…batter’s cortex hex
Voodoo..hoodoo..hullabaloo juju
No real defects..trippier zippier
Sledge hammer..T Rex
Bumrah unravels…travels in a perverse
Parallel universe..almost tectonic
Every component…supersonic
Reverse exponent..demonic
Bucolic rollick & frolic
Bionic hypertonic
In cricket's lexicon
The bowling Don
Definition of iconic
Out of the box…runs amok..
Forever will outfox…bubonic
Deadly as smallpox
Cricket’s salvation & emancipation… tik tok sensation
No mystery how he’s making history
His gall…feats with the ball
Puts the most bums on seats
Gets them in a spin…hear
The din….gleaming…beaming grin
Watch him spar…gory glory
Top fella & stellar superstar
The death kneller...genie in the jar
Fortune & story teller…nobody on a par
Best seller…so fans near and far
Come on let’s give a massive hurrah
To the one and only…Jasprit Bumrah!
..
Sing to the tune of Jingle Bell Rock:
Summertime, summertime, summer time rocks.
Summertime comes and kids yell hurrah.
Bikin’ and swimmin’ at some park’s big pool;
in the summertime, no more school!
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime’s fun when school is all done.
Playin’ and stayin’ in summer time’s mood,
good times are pursued!
Barbecue time is a great time
with family outdoors.
Barbecue time is the best time
to roast hot dogs and to have s’mores!
Oh what fun – here it comes – Fourth of July -
summer time’s big event.
Picnics, parades, and then watchin’ the sky
for the fireworks’ ascent.
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime comes and kids yell hurrah.
Bikin’ and swimmin’ at some park’s big pool;
in the summertime, no more school!
Summertime, summertime, summertime rocks.
Summertime’s fun when school is all done.
Playin’ and stayin’ in summer time’s mood,
good times are pursued!
Disneyland or the beach – fun times for all.
Hosing down, lose those socks!
Baseball and snow cones and havin’ a ball.
That’s 'cause summertime,
that’s 'cause summertime,
that’s 'cause summertime rocks!
It is a gorgeous spring day, there are greens on both sides of the road.
The smells are fantastic, and my hair is blowing like I’m on a cycle.
I’m actually driving my new purple trans am, windows down, music blaring.
The white racing stripes might have been a bit much, but
Not for me. The sun is beaming on us with magic happy.
BRRRR BRRRR GRRRR
Should I try to outrun him?
He’s gaining on me fast. I glance at speedometer. Swear.
82 m.p.h. This is what happens when I listen to the Oldies.
I pull off, waiting, heart beating fast.
Lanky patrolman pulls himself out of car, gets younger as he gets closer.
“Hi,” I say, brightly.
He says, “License and registration, Ma’am.”
He is carrying his ticket pad, and a pen.
My hands are shaking as I start stammering nonsense.
He studies my license a second, says, “Just a minute, Ma’am,”
Walks back to his car, slides in, sits down, spends an hour or two in there.
I get worried I might have accidentally handed him my big-limit Visa card.
My heart is thudding, as I watch him laboriously walk back to my Trans Am
Who is not feeling so fine and foxy now. “It’s your fault!” I tell her. “You did this!”
“You were going 81,” he tells me. Eighty-two, I wisely don’t say.
“I am giving you an opportunity to slow down, and today, I’m giving you a warning,” he says.
No smile. No expression. He could give a mannequin a lesson in subtle.
I cannot help it. “Why?”
A glimmer of an ant’s smile starts in the left corner of his mouth, for a second, but he quickly snaps it off.
“Here’s the deal, Ma’am,” he tells me. “I stopped this car yesterday, on this same curve. I wouldn’t feel right about giving you a ticket on the same corner, at the same speed after letting your 17-year-old daughter off with a warning.”
In my head I picture my adorable blonde daughter who was wearing white hot-pants yesterday.
As a last hurrah he says, “I’m going to be out here for another two hours, Ma’am.”
We both smile.
This is the best warning I’ve ever had!
Grandma is as proud as she can be!
Her Eddie~growing tall as his backyard tree.
He dons his classic St. Mary’s uniform.
Not wearing a freaky shirt with a unicorn!
Chemistry, world history and religion, too.
He is not learning trash from a WOKE school!
A multi-cultural school, he does attend!
To honor God, no flakey, government nonsense, on their knees to bend.
You are the sex you were born, twas God’s intention.
WOKE nonsense here, no, sorry, given no attention!
Nana sings and shouts:Alleluia!!
No CRT to ruin you!
Hurrah to his parents, to see he is learning in a safe, sane place.
He is a scholar, baseball player and to his family, no disgrace.
Only fifteen and grand six feet tall!
And be careful on the field, of his curve ball!
To me he is the future of this country, that is now confused and lost.
He has vision, principles that will make America great again, no matter
the cost!
You amazing boy, studying the Bible each day, I know with children like
you,
America will be safe, not become another lost Communist zoo!
Love you, Nana ***
8/9/2022
~2~
Written: September 10, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Sumptuous whispers are carried by the breeze.
A sonorous tune that calms moods and puts me at ease.
Pristine opines were uttered in a lilting voice.
An idyllic source of felicity; gentle as a dove to rejoice.
As the full moon rises in the night sky's frame,
The amatory blaze roguish hearts aflame.
And wispy scrutiny, a perduring gaze,
Bathing all in an elixir of romantic haze.
With a brooding grace and a regal snare.
She captures hearts with her wistful stare.
In her propinquity, the stars, bow in hurrah
As she crafts the night with a sanguine awe
The sky, her canvas, a tapestry of dreams,
Her reign, a symphony of moonlit themes.
In the embrace of her nocturnal reign,
Lovers find solace in her melancholic refrain.
Her demure touch, a salve for the soul,
As she yarns magic, shaping souls whole.
And as the night gently swirls today,
The moon flings egress, fading away.
But the serendipity of her alluring fable glow
The river of eternity leads sturdy and flows.
If only to bask in the gentle glow of moonlight.
Abides a love that fugacious years cannot quite.
Can a song be so sad it becomes beautiful?
A record listened to with such incessance
Its needle scratches and wobbles
Becomes desperate new notes for the melody?
The song unrecognizable to the listener
Without its own personalized warp
From a thousand roundabout journeys?
Try
Hurrah For The Riff Raff’s Good Time Blues (An Outlaw’s Lament)
Or their Ogallala
Try on Steve Earle’s Last Words
Or St. Vincent’s Smoking Section
All these songs make me turn my head
And cry
When I’m around others
Otherwise if I’m all alone
I stare ahead in stoned silence
No Expectations is another
Mick and Keith say that day in the studio
Was the last time
They ever saw blurry-eyed original Brian Jones
Alive
Bent over his guitar with his steel finger slide
Finding and gliding his long long regrets
Up and down his bent strings
As the boy watched his peace of mind packed up
For the last time
Adding his own final warped words
From a piece of steel to carved hollow wood
His swan song for the Stones
That Keith and Mick thought they wrote
Made his own
Immortal
And beautiful.
Inside.
We feel a collide.
Like a flying dinosaur.
Like our core that pours.
Inside.
We feel something like pride.
We do not feel as if we are in a prison.
More like- a window that melts like resin.
Inside, Inside.
We live with insects that cried.
Those bugs that cause us to twitch.
Those bugs that make us cackle like a witch.
Inside…
We…cried.
Tears like alphabet soup.
Fingers like goop.
Inside, dadada.
We cry as if it’s our last hurrah.
But instead, we use our melting hands.
Our minds tangled like hair strands.
Inside.
We write because it is raining outside.
Out there.
It’s like outer space, for all we care.
Inside we are animated.
We write as if we are ill fated.
But there is more-
Paper scattered on the floor.
Inside.
Not like outside.
Where we have tools all around.
But instead we write without a sound.
Living in Scotland as I am
winters in recent years are quite calm
but in recent weeks forecast was bad
winds come from Siberia to cause alarm
Then this week heavy snow came
the likes we've not seen before
continuously it rained down everywhere
we had to stay in shutting the door
Everything was off buses, trains the lot
all the schools closed kids shout hurrah!
couldn't even clear your pathway
it was so cold below freezing all day
When will this snow decide to go away?
forecasts say there's more to come
well pull the hatches down and pray
hibernation - a good idea! yea I feel numb!
(Here in Scotland, it's been really cold with snow and bitter winds coming from the east, Siberia seems to be the culprit. But it's below freezing all the time with real cold winds and drifting snow, even the shops have no basics like bread and milk but no matter we'll survive.)