Long Limos Poems

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


Premium Member Blast From the Past

Las Vegas nights
Bright flashing lights
Guests arrive in droves
To visit gamble and let loose

Their private jets and stretch limos
Hollywood royalty on tour
Dressed for a neverending gala
The glamour and the pomp

Living it up at The Sahara
Exclusive parties in penthouse suites
Cocktail waitresses in skimpy outfits
Pouring lavish drinks as you desire

High on oxygen pumped through the air
A different era of glitz and glamour
Has less than everything really changed



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~RANDOM MUSINGS VOL.2~ 2020

AP: 1st place 2020, Honorable Mention 2020


Me Or You

With tattered coat and mangled soul,
   I sit.
On cold concrete, and shadowed streets,
   my pit.

My soiled hands extended out, my voice
   cries, "A dime?"
My wandering eye peers out to them
   in time.

They rush, ignore, but know they see
   the crumpled me.
The city blazing with noise and motion
   and activity.

Steam from beneath billows through
   the crowd.
Taxis, limos, trucks with their calls
   so loud.

Can no one stop? Can no one see
   the blessing?
They are so lucky. So ever free,
   but missing?

Missing what's the point of our being.
Our existence.
Able to do, and live, and be
   without resistance.

Able to send one simple act my way.
   to fray...
One cost of one meal, one bill, one drink
   today?

Ah, if only I could be so true as to
   be you.
Would that I could show such a
   kind act or two.

Or would I too walk on?  
The world rushes by, my heart cries
   my spirit blue.
For I hear it clearly...but wait...
   ...or is that you?
Form:

Then Say I Love You

Days from now we'll be married
Nervous as I could be
Are you really gonna marry me
Is this thing for real
Stumbling over my yesterday's
Hoping everything will
Be okay
Can't believe we're getting
Married

Looking to a future
Will anyone care
Sent out
Invitations, will they
Come or do they care
This is the point were
Everything seems surreal
Picking out songs
To dance to it such fun
I laughed in the beganning
Now we're done
Can't see you till tomorrow

All those woman I use to know
The one unobtainble
The ones I let go
Found my new tomorrow
It started yesterday
Can't wait till tomorrow
I wanna hear you say
Baby I love you

Limos here time
For us to go
Got the rings can't
Forget the tuxedo 
church is full thanks
For letting me know
Can't wait to see
My lady
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Lunch In the City

You see them at lunch time
Young kids
Office workers
Construction guys
Jostling in line
Small talk
Money in their hands 
Waiting at lunch trucks
That advertise sandwiches for 4.50
Fast 
Fried
And cheap.

The young professionals go to Diners
In pairs
Or in groups
Men laughing
Women talking
As they wait
On lines snaking in
To waitresses waving menus
For luncheon specials
Drinks ten bucks each.

You never see the rich
Waiting
In the streets
For lunch
Only their limos
Parked in front 
Of window covered restaurants
You sense theirs is
A private affair
For them lunch
Is not fast
And not cheap.
Form: Narrative

A Shared Synapse

Kindred in bound twine,
inseparably free by fiber,
torn by the heat from dual flames.

Chase and kick outward,
indiscriminately,
spiral—undone.


Bystanders are able to face blame,
even though disconnected from incident.
A Bastard those still may be,
if the case is taken up for them
like it wasn’t for our sake.

A landfill of waste,
a place where grace spoils
under a soil of turmoils thickened
by crude oils.
The semi-conductor to
man’s moral coil.

Unchanged by full or semi-sweet molasses mixtures.

Only taken on tour
and touch torch to name,
shining in a spanking light.

Change.



Limos stretch far past 
The Vanishing Point.

Ethereal Limbo.

There, in decomposition, 
In their lair.
Laughing down at the idea of fact,
which he protests to thee,
threatening its way
past thy door threshold.

With sand kicked up, 
irritating the corneal scale
embedding deep within fine carpets
oriental pattern's detail.


Coattails-Personal Preferences

In the day time!
in the day time, she said:
yes in the freakin day.
Twenty six limos
one chef, a full staff
bouncers, a bartender and people glamour.
we are gonna honor with trophies
peoples who needez-ah recognition.
when the sun begins to set that when they'll go out to the arena and shine as athlete's.
Under the stars where the celebrities will
do their thing.
It's what separates stars from the audience. Getting it right so
that those who admire can sit and see
and be apart of the spectacle.
it's what makes all the hard work worth it.
In the day time Baby!
Canter's presence is requested
to entertain the entertainers,
their I'll sing to an adoring few!
And shall dine with the men of Rasslin
and in the evening
I'll sit at ringside as guest!
Strumpets and Trumpets
to serenade an adoring following.
Peeplez All over the World
Peeplez of Peeplez
Glamour and Valored
Whoo: the specticaul!
Grab my Robe I'm in ah mood!
Days and Night's
Baby the parties
all Night Long!
Chauffeur take me to the bridge!
their we gonna hook up
with the ensemble gonna party!
like only we can do-it!
All Night Long!
Looking forward to dating
and mating
Grab my robe and sing along
with the Strong dong of
All Night Long!
Form: Bio

Premium Member Another Summit In Paris

Another day
Another memory fades
Le jardin que toujours existe
Has disappeared, disparu

An army of 40,000 destroyed
All that my childhood held dear
They arrive in planes and limos
Coal fired three piece suits

They lectured the poor
They sold platitudes like souvenirs
They had Trudeau promise all and yet nothing at all
They had the press, polluting just as the rest

Paris 2015
The grandest of caviar conferences
Performing Eco terrorism in front of your very eyes
You all applaud when in fact you should all cry

They will tax you until you die
As you breathe the fumes of their failures
They are the magicians of false hope
Singing to the masses of global complacency

I will not dance or sing
This clown as left the ring
The carbon you all hate keeps seeping in
The cows and goats feel is no sin !

Premium Member Access To Excess

An ardent longing for the finer things ...
Vodka from eggs - bedrooms with wings.

Bugatti's and coffees topped with gold,
Armani, Brioni, and true absinthe, old.

Bottega Veneta or a Lanvin wool coat,
Yachts that are really just mansions that float.

Valets and limos and luxe high-rise suites,
Beds dressed in D. Porthault Jours de Paris sheets.

Bluefin sashimi, Kopi Luwak,
Yubari Melon, and real Dark To'ak.

Matsutake Mushrooms, Wagyu Beef,
South Devon Crab with fresh saffron leaf.

Almas Caviar, Bonnotte Potatoes,
White Alba Truffles, Canarian Tomatoes.

Heligan Pineapple, Densuke Black
Watermelon, sweet. In pocket, a stack.

Milan designed leather shoes and gloves -
Oh, I'm cursed, eternal, with such lavish loves!

So what is the claim, if extravagance deems?
I hope for tomorrow, and believe in my dreams.

For naught yet compares to my imaginings' wealth,
All the money on earth can't buy my good health.

So I dream, but I'm happy with all I've been blessed,
And MAYBE, in time ... fate will see to the rest.
Form: Couplet

Premium Member Lear's and Lemo's

	Lear's & Lemo's
	Written: By Tom Wright
	1/4/99
	
	With what we have
	seems we're never content,
	We reach for plastic
	when our money is spent.
	
	With more month than money
	we'll figure the float,
	Then like Investment Bankers
	sit back and gloat.
	
	We dream of a Lear Jet
	or a chauffeured Lemo,
	For we're tired of traveling
	by truck to and fro.
	
	While appearing content
	we're reaching for more,
	And what we can't spend
	we'll invest or store.
	
	We borrow from Peter
	so we can pay old Paul,
	Inwardly denying we're broke
	just badly bent, that's all.
	
	Money is at the root of all evil
	I've heard it said true enough,
	That must be why we hurry
	to get rid of the stuff.
	
	We return from the mall
	with scrapes that bleed,
	Packing all of our booty
	most of which we don't need.
	
	After an hour of unloading
	with each thing in It's place,
	It's painfully obvious
	we need more cabinet space.
	
	But we feel good for our part
	toward combating inflation,
	For while buying things on "sale"
	we've helped save our nation.
	
	But come the first of the month
	we're paying bills again,
	Then heading to the mall,
	for to save would be sin.
	
	So cut up your plastic,
	and continue driving your truck,
	Buy only what you need, 
	try saving that other buck.

	While we dream of chauffeured Limos
	and of Lear Jets to fly,
	Truth is, we're extremely lucky
	if ends meet and we get by.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Love Versus Money Your Choice

Intelligence 
Knowledge 
Ivy League 
State Educated
Working Class 
Upper Class
Held in high regard 
Or a lowly security guard
Single Parent
Family of 10
Reared in a Pen
Holidaying in the Hampton's 
Penthouse suite on the corner of 5th and Central
Bus commute to work
Or Chauffeur driven limos 
And Broadway shows 
Or pint of beer and salt and vinegar crisps 
Hand me downs and a handshake from dad for a birthday gift
Can't buy love
Can't put a monetary price upon it
Its priceless 
Everything else is window dressing
There are as many if not more 
Unhappy wealthy people than there are poor

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