Long Mare Poems
Long Mare Poems. Below are the most popular long Mare by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mare poems by poem length and keyword.
I brought it for one thousand pounds in 1982
Second hand you understand not new.
No it wasn't an Austin or ford,
humble three wheeler,
plastic pig to me and you.
I was the proudest person on the road,
four months later, i was many off the road.
Because it was so light the wind caught it like a kite.
It skidded on its side rolled on its roof,
with witness gaping for living proof
After the damage was assessed ,Ifelt like wringing the mechanics
neck.
One hundred fifty pounds scrap,
five hundred pounds repair,
I left in deep despair.
Eventually Ihad it repaired drove one year accident free.
Four months later I passed my test,
so I did what I thought was best.
I sold it for five hundred and borrowed the rest.
Though fate was to strike again,
this time a fork lift was to blame.
Again the damage was five hundred,
so the new owner did the same.
Except bringing her back from repair she bolted,
like a startled mare.
A blow out was the course, a ditch the only course.
So if you see lal865p
look and stare and thank your lucky stars,
she wasn't yours.
You should be
Strolling fields of wildflowers.
Munching heavenly grasses.
Sun polishing your satin flanks.
Sipping from a lily-kissed pond.
Running the hills-full throttle.
Necking with a favorite mare friend...
Tails twitching merrily in the wind.
Instead,
you're prodded into a war zone.
Bricks and rocks smacking ribs.
Ears rattling from bullhorns-sirens-egos.
Shattering glass -
Shaking tear gas.
Half-blinding your wild brown eyes.
You try reasoning out the scene
of these crazy-crazy human beings.
After the carnage- it's back to the stalls.
For all your blood sacrifice and burning eyes
you're given half-rotted, bloody New York apples.
Trader: wares of merchants.
Where do you keep at night?
Demagogue, hold back thy rants!
Oracle, thy sight!
Weathervane, point northward?
The master deals in snow?
Prisoner, hoist thy petard!
Chains, perform a tow...
Remember the moment?
Depends on what it had.
Far-flung fate to foment!
Fair flicker, O my fad!
Tremendous the tempered tale?
Metamorphic shale.
Fortune, got the time to fail?
Get thy garbage pail.
Prophet, poet, poison.
O serpent, hiss in time.
Rhyme and riddle, ricin.
Wind, blow hard the chime.
Eagle, ergo. Weal and woof.
Steady blows the storm.
Shingles, cover well. Hoof? Roof!
Wicker man, mare, warm...
Snail, thy trail. Never end, cur.
Mongrel, bite down hard.
Reminiscence! Where we were!
Orion, thy shard...
She’s outspoken, I know,
She acts like 10 like you never want to know.
Her loudest laugh could get things entire,
She’s a nice girl who can’t be so tired.
She easily gets attached to her closest,
She’s emotionally young and gets her to brightest.
Her smile is like someone who loses thousands of bonbons,
I so love to see that nice child eating those sweet cones
She sits in the corner like she won’t ever care,
She usually sleeps like someone who looks like a mare.
She acts like 10 like you never want to know,
Take her to nice places like she is acting so anew.
Her words are flooded with gentleness,
I can’t see any such but an overflowing happiness.
Her old pictures are still like how the way she acts.
She’s like 10 but she’s a friend who’s make things max.
Alas, ‘tis a tire, a tire o’thy ire
Hilli-ho! Bless ye enlightenment so,
O wonder is glutinous’n glory
Ho! So deem thee glutinous whence basking’n this glory!
Some push, some pull, cutting so deftly with idle energy
Chirrup! Ho, chirrup! Dance, do prance anyhow, everyhow
Professing unlike the former, latter insignificant thoughts
Chirrup! Why, clear away!
F’why hath this matter so?
Gladly glaze the superstition that supper is but brief
Conduct thee here, pulsing, thriving, alive here so
Bold young brooding worrywart
Thwart ye worries, in excitement and ecstasy and boyish buoyancy
And in an unbroken light enlighten, ho!
Stream beneath thee, bequeath thy soul!
F’one shall bask in glutinous glory afterall!
Yo-ho! Resolve thee, t’be a bran-new barmy mare.
28//1//26
Ukulele Gamma
007 Bandplace
Metropolis USA
00500-005
Dear Lois Lane
First thing , first Dame Banjo
and Rookie Wooliers experiments
Include bamboo and spray foam.
Some other things less worthy
Of mentioning. I showed her
the leather concepts,
she laughed at Both brands
And remarked who's or
Should I say what rightminded
Person who wear Elk leather
Pants and fish leather boots
Ellie Farlow had a baby with
Bleepin Task and Jock Ewing
sent him to Mexico, he meet
Mystiques Rakott and had three
Son and four daughters. While in
Havana he meet Pale Chopin who
Introduced him to Merian C. Cooper
the third.who Paul Are back smuggled
a meteorite and Kong's dna from a
Lab in Cuba to a secret place called
Galacta. We don't know much but
Dr. Wolfgang Sinister and Nurse Savage
Had files that included "Bird Bionic"
and " Travusphere" we saw a woman
Flying round Mount Ferris and a man
Walking on water. Badka told me it was
Black Manta and Mystique, I just thought
Lois and Jimmy should know.
Sincerly Yours
Ukulele Gamm
Across the limpid and serene river, the oasis of the Wild West pioneers,
there are ivory and charcoal peaks waiting for mountaineers
to discover as they rest under the long-leafed pines that sway;
on this side, the saw-tooth oaks and the daisy bushes are lovely greeters.
Not long ago, this abandoned upland was the home of gold-diggers,
sarcasm and violence went hand in hand...even eagles could have lost their feathers,
and those cluttered wooden shacks weren't not built for comfort,
but with limited space, they could hardly stretch out their legs and sleep like bears.
Travelers are very fascinated by the peace and scenery, not seen from their urban lair;
come to enjoy a short period of tranquility and breathe in the crisp air:
some write, some paint...others dream away to visualize that great era!
Look past that river, willow oaks and maples can soothe the travels of a trudging bear.
Find your spot, whenever you choose and be vowed by an imagination so rare;
take off your fedora hat and go beyond those mountains brightened by the sun's glare,
let a mockingbird or shrike delight your senses with their beautiful song...
with a fervid wish, let them take you where they have watched the new moon's mare.
Mare will harvest her pumpkins one of these years
Cheers to you all, she says, for she is unorthodox and crazy.
Lazy is her middle name, for the pumpkins all rot.
Not that she cares, for she is unconcerned about such stuff.
Rough hands look like they have gardened, but she has not.
Rot is what you find in her pumpkin patch this year again.
Kin roll their eyes at her sloth-like ways, but she does not care.
Mare does things in her own way, in her own time. She is strange.
Range rover in her driveway has not been driven for a long time.
Mime her sister tries to get her to be more normal of course.
Hoarse laugh from Mare now. She is independent to a fault.
Malt their brother thinks this is hilarious, but he loves her.
Pure thinking keeps her in the family, for she is kind.
Mind you, she does her best, they say, making excuses.
Upon the meadow where you were born,
I make a vow to stay by your side,
And though my heart in anguish is torn,
Tear-filled eyes remember our last ride.
You breathe hard as you lay in the grass.
Your heart beats like the thunder of earth.
In its own time, life will let you pass
To look for the mare who gave you birth.
Reins are hung on a hook in the byrne.
Your stall is empty. It leaves me forlorn.
I, the pupil, from your strength did learn
The joy of life the day you were born.
Your body once hot, now becomes cold.
The sun fades as the clouds become thicker.
Good-bye, my friend. Our rides made us bold.
Just nicker once more, softly nicker
....softly nicker...
You strong and
untammed youth of
yesterday, tramping
under your feet the
fears of yester-years,
why now did you
think twice?
Those days when
your blood were hot
like lava, and pure
burning bristle flashes
forth from your eyes,
what is it that has
corb you?
Mightly youth of
yesterday, you who
set coals ablaze with
just the breathe of ur
nostrils, when you
give forth your
roar,with voice
echoing like the
thunder of angry
gods, oh who dared to
stand? But why now
are you calm?
When your blood
ranges within your
vains, tempesting and
thossing like a
troubled sea, who
was there to contain
you? None.
Why now oh youth
once filled with
valour,fame and
strength did you
tremble before give
birth mare words and
leaning on a mare
staff before to you
as straw, for balance
and support?
Oh youth of
yesterday, your
mortal nature escape
you, but age is back
frm exile ,blessing you
with every vile
mistery and each bile
feeling you escaped at
youth.
Dear youth, still fresh
like tender dew, don't
be drunk with the
wine of youth,
someday old age will
return from exile.