Long Mounted Poems
Long Mounted Poems. Below are the most popular long Mounted by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Mounted poems by poem length and keyword.
A boy King was born in Bethlehem piquing the interest of three very wise guys.
They came from the East guided by a mysterious Star streaming from the skies!
They got a fix on the Star with their GPS and with AAA aid, planned their route,
To make the trek to that unlikely place to see what the hoopla was all about!
They mounted their royal camels named Chrysler, Lincoln and Cadillax.
(Lesser breeds named Chevy, Honda, Kia and VW toted MREs and packs!)
Reservations were made to stay at Oases Embassy Suites along the way,
Ensuring they provided swimming pools and golf courses on which to play!
They took along a generous supply of gold, frankincense and myrrh,
And platoons of Green Berets as guards should any funny stuff occur!
Their route took them o'er mount and vale and through dunes of shifting sand.
Sans their GPS and I-pods they would've become lost in that desolate land!
As they neared Bethlehem, they enquired, "Where is this King of the Jews?"
They were told, "Take a left on Palm Mews, then a right to Holy Mews!
There you'll find Him wrapped in swaddling cloths in a modest shed.
There was no room for Him at Holiday Inn so He was born there instead!"
They paid their respects and presented their gifts as they knelt in adoration.
Learning in a dream of Herod's plan, they high-tailed it East in a new direction!
Herod tried to find where the sweet Babe lay and his innocent life destroy,
But he lived to become King of Kings regardless of Herod's nefarious ploy!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
'O Stormy Nights
From the left I sat in the corner
Above which the moon shimmered frightfully near
Brought forth and summoned here
The young moon's radiant voice
Painted pictures of intricately layered laments
Over the decaying bones of the dead
This brought to my attention
The sinner's stone clutched in my hands
Shattering my doomed façade
For as the voices grew stronger
A white fire seeped into the crevasses of my chest
Quickly burning away innocence
But from the charred remains
Was born a pheonix with elogant red wings
Wrapped around an icy blue stone
With eyes as gorgeous as sapphire
They spotlighted my heart for the world to see
Bringing forth my spirit
With a windswept gaze I watched
As the ghost reflection of myself mounted the pheonix
Leaping out into the open night
It was a spiritual dance of fire and rain
Mixing together with a resounding crash of thunder
But left me clearly untouched
From the ruby red back I watched the lands
From twilight sprinkled cities to open fields fall away
The speed of flight refreshing and revitalizing
Yet from the flight I was thrust
Speeding ever faster toward inky blackness
Until scarlet stars burst before my eyes
And awoke I did sitting in the corner
Looking out my window to see the storming night
Summoned from my dreams
Form:
You see them parked by the base lodge,
often still in the bright of day,
big, tracked machines that will ensure
the snow is nice when you come to play.
A wide-arced plow across the front,
and broad tank-treads on either side,
large windows mounted high above
in the cabin where people drive.
A roto-tiller on the back,
or a long and carpet-like sweep,
with weight to crush through any crust,
to find the ice, then slay and reap.
Most skiers just call them groomers,
though that word has…connotations,
and every day (save powder days)
we show our appreciation.
Turning a lumpy, windblow mess
into the smoothest corduroy,
grinding blue ice to granular
so it no longer can annoy,
and crushing through the skiers bane,
the woe we call ‘breakable crust.’
These vertical Zambonis do
make it quite nice for all of us.
They started as such little things,
truck-sized with triangle tracks,
they lacked the weight and lacked the tech
to mount that much of an attack.
But they grew into behemoths
that still can turn fast, on a dime,
only once have I ridden one,
shocked by the smoothness of the ride.
Though they sometimes smell of diesel,
and come as shocks to novices,
most skiers soon are thankful for
all of the service that they give.
Be it carving out halfpipe walls,
pushing big snow piles around,
lugging skiers to back-country,
or smoothing the bunny slope down;
it’s all thanks to this big machine
bringing all the white stuff to heal,
and yes, I’ve asked, their insurance
won’t let customers take the wheel…
Oceans started to rise
As polar caps melted
Meteors fell from the skies
The Earth’s surface was pelted
The days grew dark
Radiation was high
Cosmic sparks
Lit up the sky
Religious zealots started fighting
Earthquakes continued to rumble
Mayan cults were uniting
Governments started to tumble
Fear grew rampant
As death counts mounted
Cities were vacant
Safe havens were touted
People looking for answers
As chaos ensued
Religions needed enhancers
Scapegoats were pursued
Prognosticators saying,
“I told you so
The end not delaying
Pray for your soul”
Humanity extinguished
Except for a few
The prepared distinguished
Who knew what to do
A new world was born
In 2013
The old world forlorn
Never again to be seen
The sun is hammering down on my face.
Memories that move across a puzzling place.
Smooching all the way back down to my skin.
My cheeks are flushed with tears from the past.
My greedy spirit is taught by a glorious blast.
An ovate calm circle springs to mind tips.
I plunge forward into the crimson abyss.
Freed my caged heart from its custody.
Fearful people have shelter from the world.
In my quest, I am ushered by the primal words.
Mounted shadily on a huge salt-staining rock
Looking toward the abyssal distance bloc.
White shades blend with galaxies and light.
A vibrant brushstroke boson over the skyline.
Sky and the ocean in a lover's arms and whine.
Written: March 20, 2022
A long line of waters
Deep in hearts of bathers
A lifeline of growth
Weep of salvation brought forth
Waters of life over a mile
Outrunning a thousand stile
Gifts of life in piles
Surmounting torments of viles
Dreams on waters slate
Streams of sages proliferate
Sun beam of neon flickers
Teeming waters on pickers
Wishers with panoramic views
Dreamer of waters purviews
Like well-wishers throwing coins over heels
Eye-openers on picker wheels
A river full of life
A river lull of strife
Outpouring a thousand mile
Outscoring a thousand smile
On this river of hope
A bigger dream to scope
A kaleidescope of scenery
Grandeur over tapestry
One day the said river dried
No one ever wondered and belied
Gold in pieces on the ground mounted
In the hearts of gold sprouted
Euphrates...
A river
Your mounted passion climbs, and I’m replete
With glow, to open mouth of eve-song’s fire
Inside your breath, as tender glances heat,
Embracing this and that; lanterns conspire.
Fingers trace our names among hungry stars,
Deepening blaze of love and quest for time,
And twilight warms one breath to yield afar
Thus, giving way to lip-kissed hours sublime.
We taste the wine of affection with grace
As rising dawn acknowledges our rites,
For passion is supreme, in dream’s embrace
On heady walks where laughter pure excites.
Until one day, a farewell drowns our lore
When moments strayed as endings, nevermore.
~Inspired by Meatloaf's Song with the theme
on the polarity of passion( expressed through love,
romance and devotion), and the indifference from
such by parting in the end.
Songs to Poetry of Debbie Guzzi
by nette onclaud)
High School Memories
(Two Drive-ins)
By Franklin Price
09/08/2024
It matters not how old we are
Or who we have become
We won't forget the friends we had
In the high school that we're from
Though many years have passed us by
When looking back, it's not that far
With sixteen candles on the cake
Old enough to drive a car
I got my driver's license
Got a car, was meant to be
Drove to school, not on the bus
Took my friends along with me
Three speeds were on the column
The seats were nice and wide
Sitting right there next to me
Was a girlfriend by my your side
Put my arm around her shoulders
Held her close and drew her near
She helped me as I drove along
And she shifted every gear
On Friday evening after school
I picked her up but not so late
Two drive-ins existed then
Both of them would be our date
My Canoe and her perfume
Mixed to make the car smell fine
The windows down, no AC then
As we headed out to dine
Pulled in the drive-in eatery
To have a burger and some fries
The waitress came on roller skates
As the sun set in the sky
When we received our order
A tray was mounted to the door
The food and drinks were on it
No paper bags to trash the floor
We enjoyed our meal together
Every single taste and sip
Put the waste upon the tray
Paid the bill and left a tip
Headed for the drive-in show
That was just across the street
Paid a dollar for the car
Prices then could not be beat
Pulled into a parking space
With a speaker on a post
Hung it on the window frame
Turned the volume up to most
The lights turned off, projector on
The movie on the screen
When the night was over
Most of it, we had not seen
My Prayers Were Thoughts On a Mission
Written: by Tom Wright
2/12/2013
You’re a living example of an answer to prayer,
Only vagueness existed in which we would stare.
Constant thoughts lingered, eyes couldn’t behold,
Knowing not God’s timing, but that it He controlled.
God answers Prayer in His choice of three ways,
Yes, no, or perhaps later in some future life phase.
But we could rest assured that our need God knew,
So as years mounted we continued thinking of you.
Then one blustery day from the post office came,
A letter from Ft. Worth that posted your name.
Now times seem righted in our lives since then,
God gave us you and what a treasure you’ve been.
There is nothing more powerful
Than the love shared between Christian friends;
Tom
INFINITE ATHLETEAMVIEWER
In a tale of twists & turns of rare fight,
Mason left the Blues in hinge sight,
And now, a TeamViewer in flight.
Cole Palmer departed City in dead night,
Becoming an Infinite Athlete so bright.5
One left his childhood team without renewal,
Only to become a TEAMVIEWER,
While the other left his "City" sets
To become an INFINITE ATHLETE.?
In the realm of football's grace,
He chose TeamViewer to embrace.
From Chelsea he did departs,
To share his skills and play a part.¹³
The other, a boundless soul,
Chose an Infinite Athletic stroll.
From Man City's loving start,
He embarked on a journey to chart.
Wonders of football, what a curious plight.¹8
Mount, once mounted as a Blue, now in Red,
A TeamViewer, navigating screens instead.
Palmer, from City's nest, a bold leap he led,
Now an Infinite Athlete, dreams ahead spread.²²
Mount's passes now fly through virtual space,
No longer on the pitch, in a different race.
Palmer, in infinite realms, finds his place,
Two childhood heroes, a change of pace.²6
Different paths they chose to take,
In hopes their dreams to awake.
United by passion, divided by fate,
Stamford Bridge battle, the Blues celebrate.³°
Wow, the irony, the sarcasm, rises high.
Mount and Palmer, reaching for the sky;
One in screens, the other soaring high,
In this beautiful game, where dreams defy.³4
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?5th April 2024.
??INFINITE ATHLETE VS TEAMVIEWER??