Long License plate Poems

Long License plate Poems. Below are the most popular long License plate by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long License plate poems by poem length and keyword.


My Father the Craftsman Part Ii

Suddenly without bedmate and counterpart 
   one month shy of fifty years, no deity could answer
razor sharp emotional pain cut to the quick 
   recollecting ballroom dancer

himself as a handsome youth so graceful and suave, 
   fast as Bill Haley, or comet 
   and lightly afoot in seventh heaven as a prancer 
oh..and ever the debonair, humorous, and loving romancer
where pixie dust sprinkled via an invisible en trancer.  
 --------------------------------------------------------------------
Uterine/ovarian Cancer metastasized 
   dealing deathblow, and took more than mother away
her rigor mortis terminated love labor lost, 
   whence second love sans father, 
   his hands no longer did oh bay,     

whose once passion to ply his creative handiwork 
   heartfelt interest hardened as sun baked clay
where formerly, he spent energy and time 
drafting designs and building ornate creations 
   most every night and day,

which lifelong penchant to draw 
   (deepseated and etched within his genes) 
   until profound grief did flay   
dealt mortal kombat towards, 
   whence toiling at basement workbench 

   colored his world blackish gray
nor would he respond, and only tearful sorrow
   exuded upon losing the special maiden, whom he lay
down and begot thyself and two sisters, 

   during living years sans lightness of being an a may
 fly expert designer, creator and builder – 
   during me chilhood objects like play  
house and Flintsone car 

   (with license plate to boot), beaming with ray
dee ants at products of imagination got wrought, 
   until grim reaper did slay
purposefulness and will power to remain alive  
   pronounced sadness witness loss of appetite 

   and considerable diminishing beefiness obvious 
  without him getting atop scale for a weigh
but fate smiled upon accursed widowerhood, 
   and now for quite some time, 
   a gal took hull hiking to history 
   and the restaurant at the end 
   of the galaxy they went – yay!
Form: Ballade


April 9th, 2022 Birthday Poem For Dearly Departed Papa I

Elysian fields long since embraced dada's soul
which rocketed into aerospace
(courtesy General Electric satellite)
just a tad more'n eighteen plus months ago,
nevertheless melancholy
still plucks mine heart strings.

Mine psyche still situated awry
placid countenance of yours truly doth belie
residual sadness easily prompted
can easily trigger me to cry
linkedin when grim reaper gloated
October 7th, 2020
ye did somewhat peacefully die
though methinks immortality
I did briefly espy,

when miracles of modern medicine
tried, but could not
stave off mortality nor fortify
depredations of aging concerning
one wunderkind whose accomplishments
laudatory when a young handsome guy,
whose intelligence scored high
native talent aptitude tests did imply.

The late Boyce Brandon Harris
exhibited prolific talents at young age
aside being scholastically gifted,
acquiring graduate degree
courtesy Columbia University,
freshly minted mechanical engineer
(he admirably ranked within
uppermost percentile academically),
I hashtag thy mine deceased father
(a polymath - jack-of-all-trades),
who possessed (née excelled)
at diverse creative abilities.

Aside from being schooled
as mechanical engineer,
(which courses in mathematics and science
he passed with flying colors)
his mind genetically bequeathed
to craft almost anything under the sun
evidenced first by yours truly,
the second offspring and sole son
who ofttimes felt intimidated
at being in presence
of said Renaissance man.

Handicrafts included
expending blood, sweat, and tears
to craft multitude of projects;
i. building me Flintstone (foot powered)
car with wooden license plate.
ii. making playhouse for all three
of us - his progeny.
iii. amassing wood pile(s),
to stoke wood burning stoves
iv. designing Zayda trail for Teddy and Ruff
(two doggone mixed breed Border Collies
rescued courtesy youngest sister
at her Jacobsburg, Penna work site)
v. constructing sauna in cellar,

Premium Member Gano65 fall from Cefalu grace

Celebration of death 
Peter Gargano and his 
son Peter memories 
meeting at the clock 
restaurant fort myers 
right before traumatic 
brain injury blessings 
many laughs prayers  
are with the family 
reminders from license 
plates RFP RIP it’s really 
helpful getting terrorists 
threats on license plates 
especially when I have 
to get 12 nerve blocks 
injections in my head today 
actually every 25 days 
traumatic headaches 
severe pain and suffering 
memory care centers 
after surviving hurricanes 
I’m reminded of hurricane 
Charlie grateful an yet 
traumatic events Peter
remembering Peter Gargano 
the the trauma it’s almost 
like he’s still with us like I 
didn’t witness his dead body 
leaving this world or all thee 
other wise guys hitmen 
The Don of Don Boss of Bosses 
all dead controlling terrorist 
threats on license plates 
I’m reminded of mob boss Frankie
boy cali being gunned down holding 
his license plate organized crime 
terrorising me for wearing 
wires pregnant buying 
weapons and drugs from junk 
sick officers being a rat exposing 
mafia hitmen no I’m no 
Sammy the Bull or John Gotti jr 
big Paul bambino who suffered 
a rash from his Mexican maid 
Christmas time before being gunned 
down without ointment of course 
not Carlo Gambino nor Domenico Cefalu 
no just a mom a grandma the fbi 
just warned me my ex husband 
set fires with gargano killing 9 
people before I knew a car bomb 
ignited my skull Peter stood over 
my blood soaked body to go 
over investments insurance 
monies my memory of my 
wearing wires pregnant for the 
fbi saved my life today is a 
gargano kind of day happy 
heavenly birthday Peter Pete 
and Peters Just in case I’m 
brutally murdered by this ongoing 
hit on my life because I refuse to 
allow the mafia extort my American 
Poetry brings me to tears today fondly 
remember me writing American poetry
Form: Masnavi

Premium Member Continuation

I gave you the tale of my computer
Last month 
All is working....... 
Well sort of.

And again it came down to me to put in a network card.
It put up a stubborn  fight 
But two days later I MADE IT WORK! 
It really wasn't that hard

But there were other things 
Like licenses for the vehicles and me
Mine was the problem
My birth certificate name was different you see.

I had had it changed
But who knows in what state
The lawyer said "shoot
The one on your birth certificate will do.".

The Kansas license was personalized
And a beautiful thing
I decided I'd  keep it 
And one day put it out for all to see.

When I removed it 
I brought it inside
Washed and dried it 
And set it aside.

One evening Shirlee and Fred came by
On their way home from work
I wasn't here but they left some no, no's
For my dessert.

The next day they came by to give me a ride
It was off to garage sales we would go
Shirlee looked at me and said
"Mom is that your idea of a joke?"


I didn't pick up on what she meant
And she pointed toward the stove.
" I mean ," she said "Do you intend to leave your 
License plate up there?"

I told you it was special,
I didn't want it to get hurt
So I placed it on the vent
Above the cook stove to make sure.

It was tan 
And a buffalo stood with pride
The letters C I L E
Were printed on it's side.

I still didn't get the drift
Until she pointed to the four little words
And Read 
"HOME ON THE RANGE."

I had to sit down 
I was laughing so hard 
And when I think back
I still get a charge.

I haven't yet found my home on the range 
But I'll tell you this my friends
Following the next four lines 
You can add the word, AMEN

No more cooking 
I am through
If you can't use the micro wave
BOO HOO!

                              Cile Beer

Road Trip

Let’s take a
Road trip
Together.

I want to go
Far away,
Maybe
Even to
Outer space
Where we can
Race the stars
Across
The night sky-
I’ll fly you
Around
On clouds,
Drift soft
On winds
Or burrow
Deep in the
Ground-
A landmark
Unto myself-

I’ll show you my
Favorite things
And
Kisses in the rain,
Point out the places
That I have been,
And which ones
I’d rather never
See again.
We’ll sing songs
Like lullabies
And drive
The days away-
The important part
Is that
I’m with you,
And my home
Is sitting in the seat
Next to me.

If we get pulled over,
Remind me
To get my head
Out of the clouds
And watch my hands
As they go near the seat,
I’m only getting a wallet
To show my ID
But we’re in a white man’s
Territory
And they already
Follow me,
Pull up beside
The 7-11 to watch
What I walk
Into,
Convenience stores
Are on alert
And sometimes
White people
See our license plate
And follow right behind,
Tailgate up
On my bumper
Till we leave
Their
State lines
And
A little ways past that too.

Just ignore
It,
I know you’ll say,
But I’ll make sure
We make it safe
To a nice hotel
Where we can stay.
I’ll get us a room on the
Third floor
So I only have to watch
The door
I won’t sleep and
You’ll take the bed-
And when you are well
Rested,
We’ll get in the car again.
Drive into sunsets
And great canyons
And see all the things
That make up the
Free land we’re in-
Living
With one eye
Scanning the
Horizon
To see if we need
To get on the road
Again,
I’m double checking
Every blind spot
For ghosts
With pale skin-
I guess
What I'm trying to say
Is that
Our freeways
Are an open range
And I’m just
Standing in the way….

You know what,
I don’t want
To go on a road trip,
Lets just stay inside
Where it is a bit
Safer.
© Alex Grimm  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member The Haunting Adventures of a Dirty Blonde Knight- Second Round Snow Job

Flames are now ashes 
Stars earn their passes 
On a second round
Enjoying the mountainous town 
Being at their peak 
Everyone listening to the words they speak 
Forgetting who said ‘I do’ 
Arrived for another gig looking young and cool 
Taking the scenic route 
Briefed on what the script is about 
Fixing hair 
Applying makeup that has flair 
Acting like they care 
Pocketing a check from the affair 
A couple miles away 
Our dirty blonde knight took a day off to play 
With his bride 
Following steps written in the honeymoon guide 
Chapter read 
‘After wed 
Stick in the gambling slot 
When machine is hot 
Changes come in the fall 
Family income needed written on the wall’
Putting down the paperback 
Containing many romantic facts 
Knight sporting the look noticed a mover 
Shakers license plate states Vancouver
Unloading production stuff 
Filming equipment to be used in the rough 
“Do you know the way to the top? 
Stars performing their theatrical workshop” 
Question workers asked 
Doing the task  
Honoring an appointment 
Faithful dirty blonde knight honestly pointed 
“I should issue a warning 
There could be another avalanche by morning” 
Crew didn’t hear 
Knight with golden locks feared 
As they started to climb 
Getting there in record time 
Nature elements watched and sounded like they didn’t mind 
Joining her lifelong mate in seductive black 
Mrs. Knight whose companion was buried in a snowfall attack
“I do not think everything is right 
Stars are facing a difficult fight 
But we do need to be polite 
Not getting in the way tonight” 
Looking out to the winter wonder sight 
Concerned about this frozen plight 
Two of them knew things were getting tight 
Hoping tomorrow 
There will be no horror 
Creating many to feel sorrow
Form: Rhyme

Life Is Too Short

Life is too short to be worrying about he said she said
It only starts problems and drama and the fire soon starts to spread
Yet the truth never unrolls its self like a spool of thread
And the results are friendships and relationships start to crumble and mold like a loaf of bread

People are so caught up in making and believing all the lies
It’s like they get a high for telling all the lies
What do people think they get the Noble Prize?
You have people looking at you asking why
Why do people like making people cry
Who are you trying to be in disguise?
In reality here is some advice
Liars, fakes, cheaters, abusers, and wanna bes are nobodies in real peoples eyes 

So lets break away from all the hate
There is no reason to discriminate
To walk the beat of your own drum is a skillful trait
Everyone is different like a car license plate
Its okay to be always changing like a discount rate

People need to realize in there is a due date
You never know when it is, so don’t wait
Live your life to the greatest rather it be with or without fate
This may lead to a debate
Yet if everyone could come together, we could all cross home plate
Moral to life, is that it is too short
Practice and play hard like it is a sport
Pretend that you are living on a resort
And everyone you come across is like a friend of some sort
We all need to be escorts
And treat everyone with love, respect, and kindness like it’s our last resort
Now let’s end this on a good report 
And stop all the hate and negativity and start giving some support 

Any thoughts or comments?
© Sky Magee  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Movies Meraki

When I was young, sometimes I’d get to go
to our town’s theater, where I would see
a curtain open up, then a long show
much better than the ones on my tv!

The seats inside this place were plush and red,
and there were lots of them row after row!
Small stars were on the ceiling overhead.
I felt enchanted by their magic glow.

With tales like “Sparticus,” so mesmerized
I’d sit and savor every movie plot.
Were movies a religion, I’d get baptized.
I love all types and I love them a lot!

I left for college. Foreign films I saw
with subtitles, and those I saw for free.
The themes were deep and filled my soul with awe.
The greatest film buff I had come to be.

Some forty years ago, I started to
see at least one movie every week
at a theater when they’re brand new.
And dramas most unusual I seek.

TGIF was on my license plate -
“Thank God It’s Friday” because I live for
my Friday matinees, and I can’t wait
to write reviews of movies I adore.

For years I have reviewed the films I’ve seen
on Facebook and at one time with my own
column in a poetry magazine!
And by the way, most shows I see alone.

My spouse hates going out and is not free
to go with me when I have days off, so
I’ll ask a movie buddy. Usually
she’s busy, but I’m fine just going solo!

I have other passions such as poetry,
e-mailing friends and striving for good health.
But once a week the “big screen” I must see.
Of movie plots, my brain contains a wealth!

Dec. 19, 2017 for the Meraki Contest of Silent One
Form: Rhyme

A Back Seat With a View

Time to load up the family Dodge and hit the open road.
Our backs to California, the wheels rolling east towards the deep south. 
Arriving by plane wasn’t an option, the car was our only transportation mode.
My older brother pulls my hair and a yelp escapes my thin mouth. 

Our backs to California, the wheels rolling east towards the deep south.
Country greats like Strait, McEntire, and Alabama blaring through the radio.
My older brother pulls my hair and a yelp escapes my thin mouth.
Mom and Dad won’t get a break and my car sickness is touch-and-go. 

Country greats like Strait, McEntire, and Alabama blaring through the radio.
Travel bingo and the license plate game forever etched in my brain. 
Mom and Dad won’t get a break and my car sickness is touch-and-go. 
Three days to get there and three days back without rain. 

Travel bingo and the license plate game forever etched in my brain.
Big rigs honking as my eager arm pumped up and down from the back seat.
Three days to get there and three days back without rain. 
Eating piles of junk food on the road was always a real treat. 

Travel bingo and the license plate game forever etched in my brain. 
Arriving by plane wasn’t an option, the car was our only transportation mode.
Three days to get there and three days back without rain. 
Time to load up the family Dodge and hit the open road.


Contest: A RHYMING PANTOUM OF FIVE STANZAS (6th place)
Sponsored by: L Milton Hankins
Date of poem: May 12, 2022
Form: Pantoum

Premium Member True Story That Is Umbelievable

I can not imagine what this Officer in New York City was thinking at the time of this Parking Violation. You would think when an officer writes a  Parking Violation, he or she would interact with the Driver who is being ticketed. Well that is not the case in this incident. The Officer approached the vehicle and noticed the vehicle was parked in a No Parking Zone. He approached the vehicle from behind and wrote down the License Plate of the vehicle. The person inside the vehicle was silent, just sitting there. He didn't say a word. I wonder what the Officer was thinking when the ticketed person didn't give him an excuse, to try and  persuade the Officer not to give him the Citation. Well the Officer wrote the ticket and placed the ticket on his dashboard, and walked away, got into his Patrol Car and left.
 A day or two later the Officers Commanding Officer called him into his office. He asked him, " did you issue a ticket several days ago to a Mr Rappoid, for Illegal Parking at such and such a time?" The Officer said," let me check my notes." He checked his notes and said, "yes." The Commanding Officer asked him, "You didn't notice anything in particular with Mr Rappoid?" The Officer asks his Commander, "Why?" His Commander responded, with a loud and angry voice. "Well because at the time you gave Mr Rappoid the ticket Rigor Mortis had set in and he was sitting Up and he was dead!" "Your the first Officer I know, that has written a Parking Citation to a Dead man, sitting dead in his Vehicle!"
Form: Narrative

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