Long Jeep Poems
Long Jeep Poems. Below are the most popular long Jeep by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jeep poems by poem length and keyword.
Although yours truly modest,
the only personal issue
I will lightly boast about
constitutes lingering
self worthlessness bred
if not prior to first grade,
than most definitely incipient,
academic deadlines
loomed large with dread
and exacerbated by procrastination
quickly adopted as linchpin
damned obsessive compulsive
currents (i.e. thoughts) fed
modus operandi, which intricate
schema writ over lifetime invisible
within this talking head
who ironically enough
never uttered a beep
engendered from lack
of confidence, esteem,
somehow worthlessness,
insignificance,
emasculation, et cetera
took root, and didst leap
(axon to neuron)
and said mindset did seep
percolating into every nook,
and cranny comprising
aging shades, transformed
gray matter, sans this
beatle browed bummer, a deep
purple, though easily mistaken
for minuscule Uriah Heap,
or perhaps, ewe might notice,
(albeit while in a sheep
push disposition) similarities
between mine fist
sized thinker, and another creep
pee totally tubular Charles Dickens
character, or maybe
even a commercial
for nano bot sized jeep
grand Cherokee keep
up a moderate clip despite,
and/or because I
oft times feel a light
buzz sensation within me quite
average gummed up noggin
jammed numb skull,
(essentially barren aged
teenage wasteland recently
undergoing gentrification),
(yeah how really) excite
ting, a no brainer fright
fully glommed with peevish
gobbledygook plus worthless,
obsolete, and crammed academic right
hand busily twiddling, scribbling,
and sloppily drafting
error riddled assignments
deliberately failing heavily
marked with bright
colors adding oomph
to mental blight
punctuated by
attaining puny height
(...oh, about seventy inches),
nonetheless, my slight
physique and mute quiet
as a mouse, I might
as well hove been a stand in
for Charlie Brown right
down to the tree eating kite
good grief - never an ending fight
with Lucy, hence now this knight
in rusty armor forever
disparaged his might
and attests to
20/20 hind sight!
Five decades ago, one dusk after field duty
I stood at Moirang Lamkhai by the roadside
waiting for the passenger bus.
No bus came the last one might had gone I feared.
Then I spied an old man, dhoty hitched to knees,
shirt of cotton coarse sleeves long.
Bare foot he strode in the hush of the twilight.
I hailed, " Uncle has the last bus gone ? "
" Yes, it has gone, no more tonight." he replied,
" Homeward bound ? Don't worry stay at my house tonight."
No hotel in the bazaar but a pure hospitality.
We walked the road, his voice was gentle.
" See how the land developed - going on the road
feels like going on my home's floor (earthen)."
Then Gopaljee Sharma,Asstt Registrar C.S.
rolled in by office jeep post duty.
He called me aboard : I thanked the kind elder,
bade farewell, returned to my residence.
Now Moirang Bazar boasts hotels.
But such a kind hospitable old man,
which was the characteristics of people in the old days,
is not seen again.
Ford score and...Chevy
five years ago,
my Model A strapping
handsome big bro,
(who sped like one
speeding Triumph font lee, crow),
wing, & swooping Thunderbird, with
bold face observers whistling Geronimo
(Holy Jeep), this meant war
whooping Comanche
decked out as armadillo
kicking up red feathery colored dust devils
rivaling the fastest Alfa Romeo
(while choking, gagging, loo
sing russett sputum
flecked with true grit
mouthful size of Colorado)
easily mistaken for masked Zorro
speeding across rugged
terrain of Durango,
ah recall and reminisce,
and if cup ear just so
can still hear (albeit faintly),
a toy Yoda Echo
wing nsync with
Lake Woebegone prairie
home companion, the little known no
nonsense visiting drag queen racer
Noah N. Gin poe
cur face (born that way)
originally from Malibu, a beau
teaful Corvair with Corsair, now resembling
groveling growling Gremlin, in slow-mo
what with his Smashface
ugly enough to scare Apollo
the ghost of David Buick,
a poor entrepreneur, who
never did make good profit re: Coupe,
and could not Dodge nor shoo
away, the Stealth fearsome curse
of Aries nibble Viper moo
ving fast as greased lightning,
(whereby an Eagle Talon
flashed like Spitfire akin too
Austin-Healey Sprite)
full Caprice out of the
(sir really yon) blue
celestial vault outer limits, hue
mans avoided only
brave Caravan Voyager Goo Goo
Doll dared (only fools rushed in, ignoring Fiat,
where angels feared to tread), a Motley Crue
shielded with Fisker Karma (credit),
no matter last payments way overdue
sought out (with Escort
in tow) - actually two
yup, that ever elusive Holy Grail,
thus needed to Focus with much ado
about nothing, while
brows scrunched – mad as Jew
pitter by Zeus snorting like
angry red Taurus bulls - do
tee fully kicking up Tempo
like nobody's business ready
to serve their Mazda at heart,
a Legacy Sub (burr rue)
tricked up as a gnu!
If you are alive and on earth my brother
You better take every risk to succeed,
Even if you do not court any hazard
Existence is the biggest risk you must heed.
Some things about this life are just not fine.
You may gather remarkable wealth over time,
Skipping meals and working instead of sleeping
Until you end up with such abundance of dime;
But then your Jeep loses one of its speeding wheels
And you end up on the ice-cold slab of the morgue.
Some other lazy folks take over your hard-earned estate,
As other licentious rascals comfort your wife with a sinful song.
The biggest risk my uncultured brother
Is the fact that you live here on earth;
Here heavens give you the grace to make the world better,
And soon after the labor demise trims your mirth.
Something about our earthly existence is simply not alright.
You start the maturing of some expensive whisky, forty years in all;
If you are fifty, be sure other never-do-wells will sell your whisky,
Don’t think Azrael will watch you outlive the ninetieth fall.
So those impatient chaps will imbibe your distillation without gratitude,
Not even mentioning the name of the deceased fellow who brewed the thing,
And cursing the ‘idiot’ who made such a crisp thing to be by others imbued;
Not even humbled by the fact that the whisky is far much older than they!
Living is the greatest peril, man.
And if you dare attempt some funny suicide
To do away with the unbearable menace,
What do you think the final Judgment Council will decide?
That a brazen murderer you should burn forever.
You might be irreligious – but it’s a possibility still!
The curious eighteen-month-old decided to try
To enjoy his crib, and play with his jeep one morning.
His mother slept in until nine o’clock,
But woke with a start.
Scared to death to look in the crib.
Then she heard squeals of delight
And realized he was sing-babbling,
Playing, entertaining himself.
She wisely did not scoop him up.
Instead, watched his play, smiling at him.
For another year he stayed in his crib
In the morning, and played with toys
And his mother happily slept late,
Catching up on tiny pieces of lost sleep
She had experienced the first few months
Of his life.
She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog,
into a dismal January, she hopes to catch a glimpse of the paper boy.
He travels through rain, sleet or snow, how could he understand,
(this teen-aged Paul Revere), that in this decrepit old house,
she is longing for a sign of youth? It has been a weary night, watching an old woman hang on by threads of life, that had worn thin years ago.
Watching and waiting, while cold winds blew and snow was falling,
and death was hoping to make a house call.
Any diversion, life being lived,... one brief eclipse of life in motion would be a relief.
To observe him toss the news into the sky like a Frisbee... not a care in the world
How would that feel...has she ever known? Has anyone ever been so young?
She thinks she may go mad with death and dying, with weariness, with waiting.
She suddenly shivers from a dreaded draft of frigid air, slithering in,
like a sneaky, uninvited ghost, slinking in around the rim.
nor'easter winds roll top shoe box...
splinter the silence.. -- debutante' caught in amber
a cataract view frozen sepia
Grabbing a handful of a thread-bare doily, she polishes the cold glass,
rubbing vigorously in circles against the grime,
making figure eights, in spite of frozen, stiff, fingers.
Satisfied, that she has a decent view of the blanketed yard,
and can see clearly where the muddy, gravel driveway,
bends gradually, curving to mate with the snow banked road,
at last, she spies the old Jeep coming, and watches with automated eyes,
yet, with some expectation, and strange excitement.
Then, as she might have guessed,
the teenager drives hurriedly by, barely slowing down, tossing the news,
and leaving her gaze and her thoughts, splattered by dark murky water,
while the slinging gravel that has been pitched into the sky, by his screeching tires,
falls like the pieces of the old woman's lonely life upon the pristine snow.
__________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Mix It Up"
You are being transported
On the road, HE, provided
In the JEEP promised to me
I got to walk the way
Following,HIM, in the dark
But never, really, got to see
How it would play out, in the natural
You are living in the home
A place of peace and rest, He, provided
To shelter from storms, outside
In the house promised to me
I found my home in HIS heart
Finding secret rooms, filled with treasure
That I left at HIS feet
But, I was homeLESS in the natural
You are eating the feast
At the table, HE, prepared
In the CHUPPAH provided for me
Someone was sitting in my place
So, I stood...
Wondering if my LOVE, would notice
He did, and enveloped me
Now, only those who seek HIM
...will see
Written by Trudy Schrader on 09-07-2023
(any resemblance to the following and
living persons iz purely coincidental)
Family, friends, and
strangers didst weep
when my brutally
murdered gagged and
bound distended corpse
put to eternal sleep
unbeknownst to homicide deep
pill lore hubble
killer, said murderer,
would sow what he did reap
on the deadly war holy jeep
purrs, cow path
this angry ghost
effortlessly held scented rag
to choke, a keep
sake squeezing out breath
from my corporeal flesh
with maggots didst creep
still adrip when bled,
to death, now enshrouded
in black hoodie,
and scythe leant lee
cackled with grateful dread
enroute to pay the
killer man moments ago
took hoof on
horse back fled
in hot pursuit destination,
albeit unknown,
yet aye twill find
trumpeting psychopath,
and quickly dismember
off with his head,
thus equipped with
keen bloodhound find
ding needle in hay
stack instinctive second nature
vengeance casually,
I hapt lee ghoul
lucky did allay
fresh trail scented out lay
boring haphazard way
word ness after gray
beard i.e. yours
truly he did slay
no matter wiseacre, may
be goot headstart, said jay
bird haint gonna
be twittering furlong,
cuz tell trail (and tail) flay
ming signs, he didst betray
noon the wiser hoo ray
bethought to brush
meticulously (cover) tracks
over most likely today
will merely (and merrily delay)
this phantom of neigh (nee)
and dearth all giving away
hideout, now tis
my turn, I didst inveigh
asper his final "say"
perhaps with ghost to
(gusto) hollering as no weigh
to hex press me excitement
thrusting sword
into his heart yay!
JOY and JINKS
Jolly jocund jubilant Jack Frost wearing thick jacket
joyfully jumped sharp on snow losing jade-locket
Jolted backward by snowstorm yet looked jovial.
Jeered on a jetty jackal rushing from jungle, not trivial.
Junior Jack in jean- jersey with sister Jill Joined to skate.
Jim Jogged, carrying jars of jam, jelly, jaggery in basket.
Jingle bells ringing, Jack jigging, drinking juice from jug.
Joe, friend of Jack drove jerking jeep, met Jack, gave hug.
John, a Joker cum juggler catching and throwing snowballs
Jupiter-Juno both jocose junketing under heavy snowfall.
Jewel thief Jacob fell on snow, picked the lost jade-stone.
Javelins- throw on snowy field managed by Jacqueline alone.
12/17/20
Second Place
Alliteration Contest by Eve Roper
Second Place
Podium Placing Promise (6) Contest by Brian Strand.
Naked Clowns Demented Brother
Alas one disaster follows another,
naked clown - demented brother
dancing for the heads of state
asleep with faces in their plate
and as the rubber chicken stretches
they send again the fool who fetches
red noses from downtrodden wretches
to decorate the wedding cakes
join the real to crumbling fakes
camouflage who gives and takes
shifting weight of global heat
melting shoes on city street
to shrinking ice caps tidal creep
rising under Al Gore’s jeep
clowns, they squeeze their bulbous horns,
geneticize the rose – no thorns
while warning us of sunless dawns
their seltzer bottles but a prop
sprayed on a fire that won’t stop
its cindering of nature’s crop
Alas, the clowns will all save face
disappear without a trace
disguise their noses as thorn-less roses
post naked “selfies” in heroes poses
Alas one disaster follows another,
naked clown – demented brother.
John G. Lawless
©7/13/2017