Long Macadam Poems
Long Macadam Poems. Below are the most popular long Macadam by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Macadam poems by poem length and keyword.
The day chilled rainy and gray
allowed the wind to sweep and sway
each and every tree that held tight its leaves
now released them to the slightest breeze.
Driving down the blackened road eroding
macadam faded into a multitude of leaves exploding,
the palette of beige colors warmly frayed
into a mix of shaded cool arrays.
Indescribable in the autumn beauty
the hues slipped down in skeleton nudity
of floating pale greens and burnt orange umbers
with mustard yellows and crimson passioned wonders.
The brilliant glow of a yellow pineapple sunned pear
could not match the creamed corn eggnog glare
where profusive light streamed in pink merlot blush
as colored magic sketched the last of autumn's brush.
WHAT SHE SAID
She said to me “You will not walk again.”
But I say I will. Even if only atop waves
That roll in over the shores continuously,
Or waves thrown about in tempest and
The invasions of such unforeseen storms as these.
I was taken aback and I
Shouted, “I don’t believe that!”
So, she pronounced it again,
“You will never walk again.”
She was slashing at my paraplegic knees, trying to
Wrench away my God-gifted hope: to tear from me
My full armor of God: to cause me to doubt the true
Love of God’s inseparable devotion as my ABBA!
But I will keep working to walk again, perhaps less
Briskly than I do now in company with angels, by
The grace of the Holy Spirit and alongside Jesus
Into a land far from the desolate, flat macadam
To where her words transported me...For
I SHALL walk on beyond lamentations, beyond
Pacing on embers and ashes, to walking on
The calmed waters after such doubt was spoken.
**********. ************* ************
(C). Sally Young eslinger 8/2020
Peace
Voices from another galaxy
drop hints about this blissful daydream dwelling I’m
obsessed with.
They douse the strident yelping from an unrestrained stray pup in my neighbourhood,
when it breaks clear of its tan leather muzzle with a consummate fiendish elan.
This happens when I stroll with abandon round a limp pale green grass lawn,
the type whose rabid cry for spumes of hydrant benefice is cruelly silenced.
Hedgerow choral bird chirps goad supple feats of trailing mental reverie for a wander lust psyche.
They grant behemoth powers, nether world cachet to float invisibly beneath rust sodden eaves,
a torch felt tar macadam chimney sneak peak when belching smokeless coal.
Cherry blossom panel tree house vision,
a tie cable mesh on creaky branch is quite the place,
refuge from an ancient era moss clad node awaiting blue jay flap.
To some this sturdy shoe box cartoon template reeks of animation stuck with maple syrup.
Mere desperado flight beyond an ice rink winter twilight in Ontario,
the makeshift skinflint bramble fire that barely thawed a frozen
infant trauma.
Childhood shriek and shiver may arouse inchoate recall of artic reindeer chariot adventure.
Mourning cloak butterfly aplomb, wing blown flit to deep freeze hibernation.
But alas this starstruck drifter seldom roams despite a far too frequent fictional encounter with earthbound migrant status.
Again and again, I scrape through the sand encrusted
macadam pavement, avoiding patches of sunken sorrows,
embossed in tv jingles, uttered from the lips of politicians,
grinning, toothless, at the wandering
immigrants, eager to find no home.
Against the soundtrack of minimum wage, scores
of campesinos work double shifts, avoiding traffic
tickets, the long dark hallway that leers at happiness,
trembling in freedom.
Only Sundays promise solace, playing soccer
with friends, the air biting with the coming winter,
warmed by bowls of steaming menudo.
Once more, the crows, perched on highway lights,
mock the empty alleyways, where crushed beer cans,
and broken tequila bottles litter the sunrise,
unwilling to quench my thirst,
…..unwilling
To quench
my thirst
© All Rights Reserved
The road
It stretches out before me,
the yellow center line
holding my attention.
It tells me that humankind has tried
and made its mark known and imprinted here.
But from the woods, the trees stretch their trunks angling across the tarmac,
A canopy of leaves umbrella across the lanes
dropping leaves upon the blackness,
The colors blend the black macadam
into reds and yellows and greens.
The sun etches streams thru the branches down to the lines
and flows around the bends.
the road disappears and nature reclaims its place
If only for the moment, the world is clean and pure again,
alive with living and life.
Squirrels and birds clatter in the trees and brush,
running and racing thru the leaves.
A truck rumbles in the distance.
Everything suddenly scatters
and man leaves his mark
yet again.
Civilization
They take root
and sprout up like
the corn that used
to fill these fields.
Acres of grassland,
fertile farmland,
and the houses
grow day by day.
Trucks filled with
house parts, baseboards,
light fixtures, windows,
sinks and toilets,
concrete for driveways
ply the muddy streets,
soon to be covered
with macadam.
Forests decimated,
their precious oxygen
gone as the logs
are hauled away
to the paper mill.
Nature gives way
to more civilization.
Animal habitat destroyed.
The tracts mushroom,
first one, then two,
then a hundred, a thousand.
Houses complete,
lawns are tended,
concrete covers patios,
everything neat and tidy
a paean to overpopulation.
On occasion
I slip out of the comfort and sanctuary of the house
going with the flow of traffic
steady, in the slow lane, scanning the byways,
those familiar places that I know well
having traveled up and down the macadam blacktop
wondering why everyone is in such a hurry.
I pause at the red lights
waiting for the change to green
ignoring the horns anxious to move before their time.
that fast-paced mode, rushing, edging forward
then breaking when the light hesitates
then off we go into the flow
just another stranger, faceless, impatient, angry
at the speed limiting their moves
wanting to be away from here to there
a destination temporary in passing
or permanent if returning home again
passers by, just another stranger on the road.
Aboveboard
from the perch
In Spades
1st. Warning
Final Bell
Clean-up
Pause to review
Dolly Carry
Dolly Carryover
time keepers light
The Patina Variant
danger of exposure
Macadam Position
Both Acoustic(grasp and follow-up)
lacking the ability to follow-up
chain of moves that
is sequentail to pinfall or pin attemp.
Cold reading
Hot collar
Naker
off grid
on top
truckers read
pro tech follow-up
trip and copy
high grip and carry
low grip and carry
lycra postion
Whitedress and Ledger
four bootes limited
tuxedo seam
Sketchy
on the mat time
in atmosheric time
defensive posturing
offensive follow-ups
abilty to gain
loss of points
retalation
sqash and finsh
submission interferance
the crowd in the audeince
Dear nurse
The towels in a Knoot
Tie your shoe
points were spots may allow
ranking movement(up and down)
Clean and authentic submission wrestling.
Matches that showcase wrestling abilty
that limits certain kicks and punches.
It's mentioning means a contest to showcase talents
to determine contention
or Name Champion.
A named champion maybe givn a trophy or belt that
symbolizes
Him as best.
It also allows him to be challenged.
Where the sanitioning body will
make a contract,
and will promote the bout , contest, match or Specticail
in theme or as a pure match with either singles
or team effords.
But the concept of the Talus, is to
create teams to showcase and champion the victors.
"Runes"
All galaxies abandoned
within you dimensions
ancient and unfathomable
creating new raptures
borne through fire
a desire to be closer
to gramayre glamours
gedwëy ignasia
right handed
fiercely cast
here there is no element of water
though we flow like electricity
the mother and the daughter
All galaxies abandoned
within you dimensions
ancient and unfathomable
creating new raptures
borne through fire
a desire to be closer
Gambling with
Runes
(LadyLabyrinth/2020)
gvlm
“Bye Bye Macadam” / Rone
https://youtu.be/kfoJUeyMsOE
"She is not any common Earth,
Water or wood or air,
But Merlin’s Isle of Gramarye,
Where you and I will fare "
1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Runes
2. https://inheritance.fandom.com/wiki/Magic
3. ruins / noun.
the physical destruction or disintegration of something or the state of disintegrating or being destroyed.
the remains of a building, typically an old one that has suffered much damage or disintegration.
O’ dear look-
the garden of lilac
and cheery is
alive
But- butterfly is dead
bees are flying
distractedly
Lover and beloved
on opposite doors
of garden
News are fractured
in fractional
lands
You’re walking
against feelings
on tears
I'm walking afar
on the queue
of ants
The soaked river
shore rubs out
memory
The soggy footstep
misleads our
feelings
The sun is going
behind the lap
of mountain
No fragrance of
wonderful news
in my inbox
Per bit of breath
feels lonely in the
orbit of moon
Cheap wine’s dealer
is coming in
boozy odors
Macadam, rocks and
pebbles plays game
of shock together
For next day all
words lock up
my ink pot
For coming back you
and wonderful news
I'm waiting
-October 30, 2018 Chattogram