Long Lurched Poems
Long Lurched Poems. Below are the most popular long Lurched by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lurched poems by poem length and keyword.
Far off the beaten track and trail
on quest for music’s Holy Grail
led pilgrims on biblical scale
more than can be counted.
With midsummer sun on our cheek
in tents to shelter we did seek
and pitched them at its highest peak
on a hilltop mounted
As we climbed the lean of the hill
my beer I would try not to spill
and sat with the great unwashed till
olé and adios.
It was I, El Skeet, amigo,
in my poncho and sombrero
half-cut like a loco gringo
who waved “vaya con dios!”
We lit yet another hash bong
all up in smoke like Cheech & Chong
and passed it to each one along
under the cop radars.
Late as corroded brain cells flag
with every mind trip headfu*k drag
I tucked in to my sleepin' bag
on the hill ‘neath the stars
As music and mayhem did rage
back in next summer’s youthful age
we camped closer to the big stage
all primed for the big show.
I’d sit and watch the crowds go by
in the hot sun and dust and dry
under a big Waikato sky
from our camp on tent row
We ripped into our grog trailer
and drank like a drunken sailor
but by nightfall lookin' paler
yet in the crowd I went.
Waitin' for Cold Chisel that night
with a superdoob glowin' bright
I was fu*kin’ high as a kite
and lurched back to my tent
The next day I woke in a daze
and walked off my drunken malaise
when I heard singin' songs of praise
in some weird sh*t I saw.
Tambourine hippies, punks and geeks
and chantin' Hari Krishna freaks
burnt incense in clay painted cheeks
so I got high some more
Yet in a hot wet and wild hour
stoned in the unisex shower
I gazed many a sweet flower
in their naked splendour.
We bathed too in waters that flowed
down where the lazy river bowed
lest my head spontaneous explode
on my three day bender
That night by the stars we were led
as above a smoky sky bled
when out The Enz rocked “I See Red”
and fired a burnin' flare.
In the spirit of Sweetwaters
we lived among at close quarters
sons of Bacchus and his daughters
and I, El Skeet, was there!
Written: November 2009
It was finally a sunny day after all the rain.
Jeff Smith climbed back on his tractor again,
Monday and the soft ground, was now mud.
He hoped to pull that stump out with a thud.
His mud-caked boot slipped off the clutch.
The tractor lurched and backflipped as such.
It now landed full force on Jeff’s chest.
Laid in the soft mud, calling “save me” at his best.
His two girls off for a walk, soon would’ve been,
Out of ear shot and way too far to be seen.
Hearing their Dad’s yells, they hurried to the scene.
Transcendence set in and the two girls lifted it clean.
Over one and a half ton pressing down on his chest.
Haylee 14 and Hannah 16 with all their might not less,
Lifted that tractor til he managed to escape its hold.
Bruised, broken ribs, their dad will live to grow old.
Medics say another few minutes his ribs would collapse.
He would have died, there was no “perhaps”
Some say an adrenalin rush, superhuman strength.
It is beyond the normal or physical level at any length.
What happened on that day in 2013 Minnesota USA
There is no one that could explain it away.
Spiritual power to achieve, was within each girl at that time.
Not from muscle strength, intrinsic, in their minds, most sublime.
. Immanent Yet Transcendent.
...Gretta was still stunned, couldn’t react
as the two men sat down to the game,
especially since Elden’s skill with cards
had won him a great deal of fame.
The cards went out and Elden smiled,
throwing down a quartet of nines.
Red just grinned and showed his hand:
four kings of the red and black kind.
Elden lurched back, pulling his gun,
saying,”You will not take her away!
I shot you once to claim my prize,
I got no qualms doing it again—”
He shook where he stood, grabbing his heart,
his gun clattering down to the floor.
he collapsed in a heap near the table,
lying motionless on the floor-boards.
Not a single bullet had been fired,
Red remained there, cool in his seat,
then slowly got up, walked to Gretta,
and said said her,”My dear, I am so sorry.
“I made you two promises long years ago,
To be with you and your safety to keep.
I’m afraid that I failed at the first,
But the second promise I mean to keep.”
He gazed deeply into her sad eyes,
and gently caressed her sweet face,
then kissed her madly in front of all,
twas a kiss to last her through old age.
Then he drew back, gave a small smile,
sighed deeply and drank in her sight,
then slowly vanished before their eyes,
returning back to that long night…
My alarm clock was set to go off at eight
When I lurched out of bed oh heck I was late
Forgot to move on the clock for an hour
I was late for work – no time for a shower
I dashed to get dressed at the speed of light
My son was laughing - he could see my plight
I ran to the bathroom to clean my teeth and face
My car keys were hiding, not in their usual place
Ran to the car in my receptionist attire
To my horror I found I had a flat tyre
Got out the jack and changed the spare wheel
Jumped in the car how the tyres did squeal
Drove to the office into the parking lot
But why it was empty – oh no I forgot….
Bank holiday the first week of May
BOTHERATION was all I could say
Drove home slowly, just like a snail
Just in time to open the mail
Then I did:
The washing and ironing,
cleaning and cooking,
(had a few chocolates when no one was looking)
the weeding and hoeing,
planted some seeds that needed sowing,
washed the car and mowed the lawn
then to the hairdresser to have my hair shorn,
sat down with a book and had a cup of tea -
need a bit of time relaxation for me,
Then I
washed and dried the dishes,
cleaned out and fed the kid’s goldfishes
bathed the kids and made them a snack
got in the shower and rubbed my aching back
adjusted the alarm for the right time in the morning
crawled into bed and then started snoring
Tomorrow when I go back into work
I won’t tell them my error or I’ll look a jerk!
05~11~15
Fictional write for Contest: Today I Accomplished
Sponsor Sara Kendrick
Deep is the sea
A cook on a ship sat on a pollard drinking beer
when he got up, the ship lurched, and he fell overboard
He swam on his back, moving his arms slowly
thinking, if the meat he had taken from the freezer had thawed
He must have fallen half sleep when feeling the water
was swallowed, got up, waded ashore on a small island
Tired, he sat in the sand to sleep more until the sun burnt
his face (cooks have pale faces) and a land crab bit his toe.
Thirsty, he walked around the island and came upon
fishermen, frying red snappers; immediately, the cook felt
at home and said: “Good morning.”
Surprised at first, he told of his mishap, and they welcomed him
to eat and drink cold beer.
When the news, the cook was saved, reached the press, he didn’t
mind as few cooks ever get to be famous
Pavement cafe, nine fifteen cradling a coffee (as you do)
from my left the china doll with clicking heels strode into view.
Tempting lips kissy-kissed with crimson, cheeks caressed
with blush, and poreless,
painful teasing made those scimitars for eyebrows nigh on flawless.
Hair of sunlit copper billowed like an Eton teacher's gown,
open trench coat followed suit as china hurried into town.
Head turned sideways, in each shop window she looked at her reflection
checking for the slightest hint of any sort of imperfection.
So wrapped up in herself, my my, how deep self worship had bit you
that you didn't see the lamp post until suddenly it hit you-
walked straight into it with quite a clang at such a rapid pace
recoiled, lurched back, bewildered- it was then I saw her face.
The laughter from the passers-by just made it even worse
as, shaking, she sat down near me and fumbled in her purse.
Tearful now,still reeling from her public humiliation
she got the make-up mirror out for damage limitation.
Haughtiness gone, the facade broken sat lovely Amanda,
legs like a flamingo but her right eye like a Panda.
Sitting in my rocking chair
thinking of the past
Recalling precious moments
good times that we had
Of the way my young heart lurched
each time we'd meet up
I have never yet forgot
feelings of young love..
* * * * *
Hold me close to your heart as you did before
When we danced in moonlight beside the sea shore
The exquisite feeling of falling in love
Enhanced by the glittering crystals above.
Whisper endearments that I so long to hear
The way that you did in days of yesteryear
Soothe me to sleep when day’s been weary and long
Raise me up in the times I need to be strong.
Relight the fire that burned brightly in our hearts
Those days when we could not bear being apart
When the world was ours and we sat up all hours
And days were lovingly showered with flowers.
Say you love me truly, again and again
Sing a loving song to me in sweet refrain
Write romantic poems meant only for me
Read them to me sat below our aged oak tree.
Though life can be daunting, at times glad or sad
Let’s reminisce glorious moments we had
When we were young with our dreams yet to fulfil
And the world stood still upon a tranquil hill.
He finds himself among the dead,
the moving parts
of armored columns,
his hands are guns
his eyes are guns
his mind a weapon he points.
Drink raw vodka,
laugh and joke with the dead.
for they all saw the beast,
the clanking grinding machine
they lurched away to war within it
they know it,
it speaks to them behind their closed eyes.
"Courage comrades, steady,
we are the harvesting of death.
We have weaponized the dead"
hammered swords from shears,
for the Motherland.
He staggers away from himself,
smoke still fuming from the muzzle
of his hot mouth
while other’s step carefully over
his broken cadaver.
The city has evacuated the streets at this hour,
and vacancy has given his unsteady feet
right of way at every intersection.
The traffic lights, sticklers for rules, continue
color-coding priorities for non-existent movements,
frowning on his jaywalking but indifferent
to his zigzagging.
The bar has dispensed all its sympathy for one night,
so the flood of misery has now been diverted
by closing time into the open,
private grief on public display on an empty street,
the whiskey in his stomach threatening an uprising,
pushing his upper body and legs in two different directions
but doing nothing to blot out the
full-screen news ticker rolling across his
consciousness for the first time
with a single breaking story:
SHE LEFT ME FOR ANOTHER MAN SHE LEFT ME FOR ANOTHER MAN
SHE LEFT ME FOR ANOTHER MAN . . .
He’s reeling from the hollowness that still seems
to be expanding in him,
feeling singled out for suffering,
not yet knowing that he’s merely
following in the footsteps of countless others
who have lurched and stumbled in the same way to
a semblance of emotional balance,
the pain inoculating him against future pain.
Through all the green and amber and red lights
he staggers on towards the limits of innocence,
until the night furls its shadows,
and the sky is a furtive grey.
Betty Bunny was excited about the carnival
She was going with her favorite man Mr. Gall
She wore a pretty bow and her hair up high
Then he arrived in a red perky stiff bow tie
He asked if she wanted to ride the Ferris wheel.
She said yes and heard herself give a tiny squeal.
She wondered if he would kiss her at the top.
She shrieked when their car lurched to a stop.
Her handsome man put his arm around her and held her tight.
You look even more beautiful, in this lovely moonlight!
It was a day to remember, gorgeous, starry and pure.
She was thrilled to death, when he proposed to her.