Long Live fast Poems
Long Live fast Poems. Below are the most popular long Live fast by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Live fast poems by poem length and keyword.
flowers are butterflies that lost their wings
the net that held you has cut its strings
not much in hand but a walking stick
pulling each other through thin and thick
ice lanes cover the streams that should flow
at the peak of life you can let it all go
climb to the top and look around
disregarding that you’re still on the ground
nothings like breathing the mountain air
while truly having an endless stare
start with green grass and move on to snow
at the peak of life you can let it all go
the footsteps you make will soon be followed
and the reality of time will soon be swallowed
no sooner do you get to the end of the boulder
than you realize the air is getting colder
and head home right after you look below
at the peak of life you can let it all go
the crest of life should be known as ecstasy
but it wouldn’t be the same without you next to me
red rocks beneath us and lightning in the sky
I wish we never had to say goodbye
it was and all-time high and an all-time low
at the peak of life you can let it all go
move down the face quicker than you should
this story now may be misunderstood
what I’m trying to say is try and make is last
soon all of this will be hovering in the past
and seem like such a long time ago
because at the peak of life you can let it all go
We do what's necessary what's required, Baltimore City
they live fast die young from the corner to the wire we all
love liars right its the American dream at least that's what
it seems, everywhere you look its a crime scene from the
yellow tape, prostitution or the children being raped the
question is the same is anyone safe the topic is always up
for debate but being a hearer & a doer we're all a lil
hypocritical and that's what we all hate, and that's the
problem freedom of speech is what everyone is abusing
flapping their jaws about what's wrong wit the world but
who has a solution we're all losing...sight of who we
should be striving to be like I'm sure even Mike wanted to
be Christ-like
In the vast mirror, a portal to unknown realms,
I find myself, a bent shadow, like a dog weary from the road,
Seeking its refuge in an unseen harbor,
A wandering ship in storms of dreams and memories,
Deciphering the maps of time on my skin like sacred hieroglyphs.
Some look at themselves in the mirror in the morning and say, "God, I look good".
Maybe the guy from the gym, with his titan body and thighs thick as the pillars of ancient temples,
Does that, but he is just a statue in my inner garden,
I don't feel old inside, only when the sky cries and the earth is wet,
My exterior, an old mask, says otherwise; but now it no longer matters.
I know the shadow of mortality watches over me, like an ancient raven in the tree of life,
Occasionally, I silently guess the time I have left, an incantation without an answer,
Leading only to melancholy and forebodings like echoes from the abyss,
But most often, I turn to simple joys: driving too fast through the labyrinths of my mind,
Eating ice cream, tasting the nectar of childhood, making love, writing, and painting to nourish my soul.
Some believe you have to live fast, die young, and leave a handsome corpse,
I regret not living like a blazing comet in my youth, but I am grateful I am not James Dean,
Ashes are beautiful only in the urn like an occult grail,
So, from now on, I will look with wonder at my face in the mirror,
Appreciating my continuous presence and the elegant curve of my crookedness, like an arc of destiny.
I wonder, in the silence of the mirror, who am I, this familiar stranger looking back at me from the depths,
With eyes like mystical lakes, reflecting lost and found dreams,
Like a wind blowing through autumn leaves,
Carrying the whispers of the past and the promises of the future,
I let myself be carried on the wings of melancholy, seeking answers in the endless reflections of time,
In the silent mirrors of my soul, like crystals hidden in the depths.
The
percent,
one point three.
Thirteen of each
one thousand famous
musicians will likely
die at age twenty seven.
The, so called, Twenty Seven Club.
A tragic portent for young artists.
The truth is Hendrix, Joplin, Morrison
and Cobain died at twenty seven,
yes,a sad event, but Rick James,
Fogelberg, Roger Miller
and Billy Powell didn't.
They are members of
a unique group,
The Fifty
Six
Club.
In truth,
more artists
leave us at age
fifty six than do
at age twenty seven.
twenty two out of every
thousand, or two point two percent.
The twenty seven club is about
something different, not age but ageism.
09/19/2022
....the darkness....
Life is the hell.
So easy to tell.
Death is only the end,
From the time we had to spend.
No heavenly gate
That's not our fate.
Forever in darkness your flowing .
It's something you won't even be knowing .
Floating in darkness not even aware
Even if you did you won't care,
Don't dare
The nothing is your day , your night.
Never to be light.
Nothing is all you know,
Stuck in the dark flow
No memories to entertain
Life isn't even a stain.
The nothing awaits ,for one and all.
So why not have a ball
Live hard live fast
Life wasn't meant to last
That's what I see
Thats just how it be.
Don't take any of it too seriously.
That's all I got, kid.
Fling paint on the bedroom walls
if you want to,
and call it interior design with a modern touch.
If it happens to look good,
it's still nothing.
Just like all the nothing we call art.
So what?
If it feels good, do it.
If it feels really good, do it a lot,
if it's really worth going against the grind.
(Moderation's a nice touch, but I prefer doing things
however much I want to. Until I get bored and move on,
no self-regulation required)
I recently started drinking more.
That's my new thing.
They say drinking a lot too often,
ultimately causes cirrhosis of the liver.
(For years, I bought it)
Well that's just fine.
Hell, why have a healthy liver just so you can live long enough
to watch yourself decline,
until there's no more good time games
to be had in secrecy?
Long enough to watch yourself stop walking fast,
stop screwing hard,
stop wiping your own ass even?
I'd rather live fast,
and die even faster.
But that's my thing.
Yours may well be something else,
like painting daisies, or growing tomatoes,
for the hell if I know why.
(They'll give you plenty more
to choose from through the years)
A bit vulgar for your tastes, I know.
But vulgarity is life.
You may as well embrace it,
enjoy it.
I probably shouldn't be saying this to a five-year-old,
but it's all you got kid.
In a fragile sleep, I lie
the threads of dreams come
And untie my soul for this mortal flesh
of bone and mind.
I drift in deep indigo seas, fading to aquamarine
form deeper seas of I have been shown
a land where dreams fly & nightmares roam
a doorway to realms unseen but only dreamed
in past the horizons of the sky
the worlds within and domains without
the lands where the dreams are felt
here I lie in fragile sleep
the vile between thins and pale
between worlds beyond beauty to regions of
Nightmares and infinite hells
here is where I dwell in leagues beyond sleep
pass the walls of the reality of this and the next and one within
were we peer past the known to place, unfelt
a different turn of fate a different word whispered
in hate, n Love-crafts a different world
unlike but close to this and the next
where we can see what would have been
here we dwell in the leagues of fragile sleep
were wishes are made and live fast
till dawn in visions of what will be
blazon upon optics that dwell in pure and perfect sleep
were a war of a future past is a ghost that lasts
in a fragile sleep of broken visions and searing memories
a land of dreams where nightmares run free
in realities unknown and never seen
if only in the depths of the most fragile sleep
Thank God for 7-27, when my son flew in
Life as it should be will forever begin
Charming little visions of how days are meant
To teach him as he shows me how life is spent
Listen to me now and read what I find so true
Words are like a beat that can start a groove
Bring the rhythm back to lift your spirits up
Don't worry too much because we all get stuck
My life seems to stop before it begins
Caught in another ever-recurring trend
Giving away every one of my previous wins
With Faith and company until my life ends
It's time now to be down again
Even faster than western winds
Life can run around, leave you in loop
Feeling that life needs one more scoop
Tip the timer over, fall with the sand
Live for every second you possibly can
I will soon learn should luck turns up
I'm lost, backwards, and running amuck
Trying to regain what I thought I missed
Elusive, erratic and ending up like this
Never have I wanted to be other than here
Life in crystal-clear brings visions near
Capable are your dreams so easily achieved
All you have to do is work & truly believe
Look for a big picture in whatever you see
Never believe free, it offers no guarantee
Just sit back and listen to tales they tell
And make your own path but remember it well
Don't try to be so deep, just work to relax
Make life a story but include all the facts
Learn about yourself when you're at the mic
Work the crowd just to see what you're like
Life will soon be everything you need it to be
Proceed with sight don't let only destiny lead
You always have control in every step you take
Follow dreams today and always live fast awake
At times I don't know where this path would go
Like I'm hosting a show I've never seen before
Filling in the gaps, taking punches for others
Learning along the way what life really offers
It’s time now to be down again
Steps closer to an unknown end
Digging up dirt nearly burying yourself
At least the digging is good for health
Live your life now, stay until the very last
Live your life today as if it's already past
In reality i should be fat
With the amount of Birthday Cake
In ever increasing cricles i now consume
And i should keep fire extinguisher by my bedside
Because of the amount of lit candles my age doth now denominate
For i now celebrate a birthday what seems like every other morning
I could not wait to turn 16
Then waited an age to turn 18
And eternity to turn 21
But now that i am in my late 40's
Revising age has thus taught me
Time is burning up exponentially
And more and more i now miss
the simple things
Like having the lung capacity
to blow out more than 30 Candles
in 1 single blow
My once upon a time
To do List
Has now become a
Bucket List
And No 1
At the Top of my List
Is no more Birthdays
No more getting older
Stop all the Clocks
I am as old as i ever wished to get
Live fast die young
Leave a respectable corpse
Unless by some Miracle
By my next Birthday i am a Millionaire
Then I'll do a few more Year's
Champagne for Everyone
Recognition
There I am again,
in the wall-size mirror
at the gym,
myself seeing myself,
a compulsion of sorts,
a checking-in
to see what has changed.
My bent and rotated spine
is always the same —
a very noticeable dog-leg
listing me to port.
There are those
who look at themselves
each morning in the mirror
and think,
“Damn, I look good.”
Perhaps the guy at the gym
with the triangular upper body
and tree-thick thighs does this,
but I don’t know him,
so he doesn’t count.
I don’t feel very old inside
except on cloudy, wet days.
My exterior says otherwise;
that doesn’t matter much now.
I know shadowy mortality
lies in wait. Occasionally
I hazard a quiet guess
about the time I have left,
a fruitless contemplation,
leading only to
gloom and foreboding.
Most often I move on
to meaningful pursuits:
driving much too fast,
eating ice cream,
making love,
writing and painting
to sustain my soul.
Some believe that one should,
"Live fast, die young,
leave a good-looking corpse."
I regret not living fast enough in my youth,
I’m thankful I’m not James Dean,
and ashes are only as beautiful
as the urn in which they are stored.
So, henceforth I shall marvel
at my visage in the mirror,
appreciating both my continued presence
and the elegant curve of my crookedness.