Long Load up Poems

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Premium Member Little Adobe House

Little adobe house on 160 acres
She grows flowers. I grow corn
Tomatoes, watermelon, etc.
Peace, love, hope, and joy
Grow themselves

Porch faces orange blazes
Draped over the rugged Mules
And a barn owl hoovers over
An old water tank with a bunny
In her talons for her 
So-ugly-they're-cute hatchlings
Ladder leaned on it
to climb up and see 'em

Brothers and sisters drive from town
For Bible Study 
Every Friday night... 

After the Word there's coffee and treats
And men load up the truck

Armed rabbit assassins
Patrol Charlie's alfalfa fields

While back at the house
Women laugh and
Children play

Extra rooms 
For friends who want to
Spend the night
Saturday mornings
Coffee and  bacon waffles
In Charlie's pond across the road
Bass to catch

Beautiful, glorious days

Last night I dreamed 
That in this economy 
Where shelter's scarce
I was back at the ranch
With a hundred millenials
All of whom, knew me

The adobe house was remodeled 
Terracotta with green and red
Lots of black wrought iron 
Railings, fences, and gates
Rooms added onto
Big as a mansion

Dirk came to weld more iron
With his crew 
And I was trying to make everyone leave

Then I went out towards the pond 
And got lost in a huge coal field
A stranger appeared and I asked
How to go back to the road
And a sheriff stopped me with his gun
We, (well it felt like you)
Took his gun from him 
But you wouldn't let me shoot him
And I didn't

I woke up... missing all that we had

Your home-made bread
Love by the fire
After kids went to bed
It was incredible 
What we did
What we made
What we grew

Our little boys in their cowboy hats
Playing under the giant cottonwood
Our big sprawling porch every evening
Watching the orange purple fire 
Spread itself over the valley 
And fade into embers 
Sparkling the big black night

Like those sunsets, we raged and died 
Time after time after time after time
Until we didn't 
My dear, sweet, 
Warm, loving, 
Beautiful 
Ex-

You're still so good to me after all 
Praying for your family 
In that little old church
Where I lost my faith so long ago 
Quit being the man you used to know
Something I still believe in though
And always will


Poem Cry

cant see it coming down my eyez so I 
have to let this Poem Cry 
I cant see it coming down my eyez so I 
have to let this Poem Cry 
See Im not on this Jay-Z shhhh... 
Im on this Real Love Shhh...the type of 
love thats makes Mary J Blige dig deep to 
find her soul shhhh
A poem that lets it out... 
see i had love but never cherished it...felt 
it but never kept it...used it but as a 
crackhead well I had to abuse it... 
funny its really irrelevent...love had 
passed me so fast like usain bolt there 
wasnt a reason for me to catch 
it...TREATED IT LIKE SUICIDE SO I HAD 
NO CHOICE BUT TO KILL IT FOR MYSELF 
A poem that makes me mad...A poem that 
keeps me Sad...A POEM THAT MAKES 
YOU MAD!!! 
R.I.P LOVE!!! YEA I SAID IT...HOW CAN I 
DENY IT!!! My broken soul 
Past pains hidden deep...My heart has a 
hole...Love wasn’t in my book... 
Wasn’t something I could see...damn sure 
wasnt something i wanted to read 
Pain was bound in my world...SO MAYBE 
JUST MAYBE I NEED TO BE DEAD... 
LOAD UP THE GUN AND PUT IT TO MY 
HEAD 
CLIMB UP ON TOP OF THE 
BUILDING...STAND CLOSE TO THE 
EDGE...READY TO FALL...BUT!!! 
FELT SO SCARE SO I BEGAN TO STALL!!! 
KNOWING NOBODY WAS THERE TO 
CATCH MY TEARS 
SO I LET THIS POEM CRY INSTEAD!!! 
Every time I think the feeling of love has 
called it quits 
the tortuous memories and hopes that 
may never be... prove to still exist 
and so I walk the land of love and pain 
the man with a plan but no plan to make it 
happen 
It's not that I'm sleeping or slacking on it 
...basically just napping 
procrastinating keeps me from snapping 
out of insanity 
watching other lovers pointing the finger 
at my single life 
should I be pleased!!! not really!!! because 
honestly!!! this is the reality!!! 
IT ALL STARTS WITH ME!!! TAKE ME 
AWAY!!! LORD TAKE ME AWAY!!! 
Day in...Day Out...trying to make 
it...continuing to fight love but now i need 
to escape it 
instead of looking up to the skies and 
begin to cry 
I couldnt see it coming down my eyez...SO 
I LET THE POEM CRY!!!
Form: ABC

Premium Member No Toilet Paper

No Toilet Paper

My mind is boggled. 
What is with the Coronavirus mania? 
Why is everyone going freaking nuts over this? 
From what this writer understands, 
It is much like the regular flu, 
Which is killing thousands as we speak, and 
Hospitalizing even more. And this has been going on, 
As long as I have been alive since 1952. 
But this particular microbe is novel, and 
Since little is known about it apparently, 
People are afraid they will “get it.” 
So off to Costco they all go, and 
Buy as much toilet paper they are all permitted to buy, 
Take it home, store or hide it with the other family treasures, 
And then realize, inexplicably, that now 
They are all magically immune to “getting it.” 
Is that what these crazed souls are thinking? 

I can think of a fate worse than “getting it.” 
Worse than sports games being cancelled; 
Worse than concerts and plays going on indefinite hiatus; 
Worse than school classes and Sunday services finding the exit door, for now; 
Worse than millions of vacations being cancelled, and 
Entire industries being brought to their knees; 
Worse than the world economy taking a complete nosedive 
Into depression and financial paralysis; 
Worse than millions of human beings dying 
Horrible, agonizing deaths due to this little microbe. 
No, I can think of something even worse. 

Imagine going to Steak Corral - All You Can Eat, 
One night soon, and you wanted your money’s worth. 
So you load up your plate with: 
Whiskey-laced, barbecued baked beans and garlic bread; 
Two breadcrumb-laced quarter pound char-burgers,
Each smothered in a half dozen beer-breaded onion rings, 
With ranch dressing dripping over them like lava.
Then you go get some more beans on french fries with
Big raw garlic chunks nestled in them, and then, 
You wash it all down with three beers. 
Imagine the next morning.
Imagine the horror, the horror, 
Of voiding all that Steak Corral stuff, and then 
Having the absolute worst possible thing 
Happen to you in today’s crisis times.
No toilet paper.

I Found a Spaceship

Numbers (From the Old Testament)
11:1 And when the people complained, it displeased the LORD: and the LORD
heard it; and his anger was kindled; and the fire of the LORD burnt among them,
and consumed them that were in the uttermost parts of the camp. 11:2 And the
people cried unto Moses; and when Moses prayed unto the LORD, the fire was
quenched. 11:3 And he called the name of the place Taberah: because the fire of
the LORD burnt among them. 11:25 And the LORD came down in a cloud, and
spake unto him,



Like something out of Goonies
Exploring a childhood cave
I found a hidden entrance
Piled rocks it did save
Pristine with no graffiti
Perhaps the first human to come this way
I stumbled upon a hidden spaceship
Waiting for my soul to take

I powered up the engine
Exhilaration surging through me
Just with a simple thought
To another star system I would be
For the first time in my life
No one telling me what to do
Justifying my need for power
Perhaps as you would too?

I zip to a primitive world
Where the females look so pleasing
And I display my virile power
Morality ridiculous and fleeting
Striking at my own fears
And lifetime of limitations
I declare myself a God
Destroying any asking questions

I roar, I am the Lord!!!
You will have no others before me!!!
I force them to pay taxes
Taking women for booty
Demanding my payment of tribute
Always more women and gold
Then I load up the precious metals
To be returned home and sold

Then I have a book written
Rewarding those playing along
And I make myself a written deity
Justified through scripture and song
Then I take my stolen plunder
And return to my home
Rich and justified in my actions
My only judgment is my own

Years pass as they will
My curiosity gets the best of me
And I return to the cave
Then wormhole back to see
This new religion has taken root
And wars are fought in my name
Chuckling as I shake my head
Wondering if I should feel the slightest shame
© The Fringe  Create an image from this poem.
Form:

Premium Member Christmas Cheer

T'was the night before Christmas and through the beer store
folks were procuring Christmas cheer by the score.
They came from near and far to get bottles of rum
to make yummy eggnog and to its pleasures succumb.

Our Ukrainian friends, Vlodymir and Prianka,                                                             decided to load up with bottles of vodka,                                                                 and together with their generous friend Ebenezer                                                      celebrated the season by consuming Bloody Caesars.

My Newfoundland friends made it abundantly clear                                            that they planned to consume mass quantities of beer.                                   These would include several stouts, ales and lagers                                               all from local breweries – not exactly a shocker!

Some friends braved the weather that was wet, cold and brisky,                        in order to purchase forty-ouncers of whiskey;                                                     and they all thought it was very good and responsible                                                      to consider drinking and driving completely unacceptable.

When the liquor store closed at a quarter to nine,                                                the latecomers decided to purchase moonshine;                                                  and, admittedly, they all got a vicarious pleasure                                               from surreptitiously buying from a local bootlegger.

On that Christmas Eve, several ladies did dine                                                     to a holiday feast that included bottles of wine.                                                 They sipped several glasses of sparkling, red and white                                toasting Happy Holidays to all and to all a good night!
© Jim Healey  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme


The Christmas Tree

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My Ho, Ho, Ho, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes kill my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed 
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head

The Christmas Tree

Wait a minute, is it already Christmas again
Seems I just took down the lights and the tree
Is there no rest for the downtrodden and weary
This season sometimes takes the Merry Gentleman out of me

So I load up the sleigh with the dog and the kids
The old beat up station wagon I drive
On the hunt for this years perfect tree
We'll be lucky if we make it back home alive

As we jingle all the way to the local tree farm
Six kids and a dog singing at the top of their lungs
With only twelve days left before Christmas
My Ho, Ho, Ho, is already long gone

Picking the best tree out within our budget
My wife says Charlie Brown would be proud
I ask smarty pants Mrs. Santa what she meant by that
She'd rather not say with the little elves around

Before an argument even ensues
I've lost the battle before I hit the front line
You wonder how I'm so confident of that
The same thing happened last year at this time

As I struggle to get the tree off the roof of my jalopy
While Jack the dog in the frost is nipping at my toes
I fall to the ground with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head
Waking up to the dogs frozen tongue stuck up my nose

Finally with the tree set up in the front parlor
I notice it leans bad to one side
Taking my chainsaw to alleviate the problem
The gas fumes kill my kids parakeet out right

With Hobby Lobby open late for the holidays
I was able to purchase the product I need
Working late into the wee morning hours
I did a good job shellacking the parakeet

I'm not sure that my kids even noticed 
Or brought up the question what for
But they sure like the shinny new ornament
Hanging next to the hamster that disappeared the year before

Well, I survived another preparing for Christmas
As subconsciously I'm being led
To wrap myself in last years present "The Snuggie"
And dream of those sugar plums dancing in my head
Form: Rhyme

Resting In Pieces

I sit here, 
Surrounded by these four walls,
Staring at this mirror again, 
No telling when this madness will end. 
I'm allowed to leave at any point, 
But at this point they might as well lock me in!
There's no point of me being here, 
There's no point of me being out there! 
I fear if I leave now they'll see it as they win, 
Yet I can't stand looking at myself in this mirror! 
Do I let them win and walk out in my disgusting skin, 
Or do I sit in here and repent for my sins?!
Ope, 
Here comes the voices again!
They're not coming from within, 
They're coming from that God forsaken mirror! 
"You're a pathetic alcoholic who craves the attention from men that you'll never get cause you're a grotesque cow wearing human skin!"
"Enough!!" I yell back at it, 
Hitting it with full speed ahead. 
"Don't you think I know that?! I'm tired of it it's the same crap day in and day out! You reminding me of how I'm a piece of crap, it must be funny to you to watch me break down into pieces, begging to die in my sleep, cradling back and forth on my feet crying profusely, taking breaks in between to produce agonising screams to let me out of this cell, well now I'm not the only one in pieces, you're resting in pieces now too!"
Looking at the shattered mirror in front of me, 
I cradle the broken pieces gently. 
It's finally quiet, 
Yet that mirrors words keep echoing violently in my head. 
I decide to let them win another way, 
I decided I'm better off dead. 
I pray a piece of the floorboard up, 
And pull out a silver case. 
I load up my gun, 
That I had just incase and put it to my face. 
I look at the pieces that remaining, 
"See you in hell" I say grimly, 
Unloading 4 bullets in my head.

The Last Tree

A pretty oak  sits outside my window pane in the snow and in the rain 
Covered with life, outside the balcony fifty steps away 
Decorating the tree with  flashes of red, black, grey,  yellow and white, 
are his friends the cardinals , squirrels , chickadees and the tufted titmice
 They sing , chirp, and  chatter in harmony of song 
As the seasons pass, we live  thru heat, drought , cold and  rain all year long
 I keep my feeder close at hand and watch as they load up in waves of two and three 
 to make their run at the seeds and grain 
The leaves are green now and vibrant with life, in the fall the acorns grow and my tree stands tall 
At winter they covet  the warmth and provide a shelter for the thick furred grey squirrels
 A lovely little hole in the crook of the branch big enough for two to snuggle and borough 
They race down these pathways in the sky, playful as skilled acrobats
October mornings  the leaves are falling , making noisy whispering sounds
the first rays of  sun turn frost into a million twinkling stars on the ground 
 The two winged take refuge in their nest , built carefully for warmth and rest 
To nurse  and raise their young , making them fit for another generation of  the best
The seasons flow as a quiet pond and like our beautiful  life 
 everything is real with very  little strife
 Among the colorful citizens of  this merry place I give life in equal exchange
for joy and a chance To sit and watch my friends as I grow old and enjoy life in the sun 
But life  changes,  very unfair , and I am denied my playground in the sky
one day some men came and cut all the beauty down 
Now its gone all butchered and bare nothing left but a big hole in the ground
© Jim Joyce  Create an image from this poem.

Father Paint Me a Rainbow

A seven year old boy and his father are going away for the weekend. 
The father notices the look in his young sons eye, when he tells him they are going hunting. 
The sparkle of adventure that captures his eye, roaring in like a lion.
The energetic pumped up child so eager to go. The boys father gives his mother a kiss as
he always did as the two of them leave the house, she watches them load up the truck with
everything that is needed to make this an unforgettable trip. The father and son sit there
with their riffles loaded and ready to go. The wind blows through the young body of the
boy as it rattled the leaves on the tree, on this cold crisp October morning. The son
looks at his father and asked What is the meaning of life? The fathers look and expression
was speechless and he did not know what to tell his young son who was full of like and
needing to understand. All the father could think of to say was you'll find out someday
when you are older. 
Your answers will be painted like a red, blues and yellow rainbow. When the time comes
you;ll understand what all the colors stand for. A father and son go on a hunting trip
years later as an old man and now grown with a family of his own. Nothing had changed
between these two men even years later. The same two men sat under the same tree where
they had carved their initials into. The son turns to his father and says "I know what the
meaning of life is!" 
For my wife and kids are the red, my job sand friends are the blue and you and mother are
the yellow. You guys gave me life, put me on the earth to find out for my self that my
rainbow is painted forever in my heart where it can grow.  

cory long
© Cory Long  Create an image from this poem.

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