Long Off road Poems
Long Off road Poems. Below are the most popular long Off road by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Off road poems by poem length and keyword.
# 89
...And now a poem by Red:
...And we all say "forget it"
...I just want your kiss
Agent Arkansas 90766 BETA
Alone and Love
An encyclopedia of Lore history
Apples and the worm
Black Angel
Broken day
C-o-l-o-r...course our life off road
Can you find me now?
Confused by Confusion
Crack (the story of Donald)
Dawn
Destroyed
Did somebody call a Doc?
E-M-E-R-A-L-D
Emerald Lives Forever
Energy
Everybody's hurt
Finally A Song About The Things No One Seems To Care About
Forging George
Frozen Poems
Glass (story of Bonnie)
Good Friday
Goodbye you
He's in a rush
Heightened
Hello?
Hope "Sweetheart's" wedding doesn't suck
I can't title perfection- Title: Unnotified
I Hate This Part (idk)
I may be no Rambling Poet ((Tar form))
I'm a rheonotic
I'm leaving -I'm gone
I'm not done yet, Doc
Intro - The 'Real' Sonnet
It just so happens to be
Jared Pickett
Just kidding
Kar-ma
Kilometer
Kiss
Laugh with me
Laying low
Lost all sanity
Lost it all
Lost me key
Lost myself in Mexico
Love the rules
My confession
My frozen fountain of youth
My last poem
My Swoon
My victoria
Never...O.k. maybe one more time...and then never
New World of Old News
Nightheart's begining
Not your daddy's roses are red
Oh, here we go again, Doc
On Wednesday ((Tar Form))
Over and Over again
PDA: the next slam
Poems on Fire
Poetic?
R-4-E-7-D-0
Re-Confession
Remember this
Rheonotic
Rusty
Shhhhhh
Simle tune
So?
Solitary
Stop the violence!- and let me join in
Supernova
T-R-Y-I-N-G
Take down #0459587
That gut feeling that makes you laugh
The Beginning of Breaking down
The Great Sun God
The Night's Heart
The smartest thing I've ever done
The way I want to feel
The wise old man
This is how I feel (You and I/The damned and dead/Hell wants you too/hours and hours)
This one's for real
This way out
To bad.
Today is my day
Traffic (the story of Johnny)
Underneath the Upside-down
Unicorns are not made of corn
Unintended
Vampire fun facts
Verbal Altercation
Waiting?
War and Feast
War-Locked with a Poet Destory
Welcome to the throne room (Doc, it's not a slam)
Welcome to...
What we've come to
Why do we cry?
Why the world left me
Willing attack (What's left)
Wonder
Writers block (the story of Ronald)
Z2A in A2Z Order
Pardon my condor sensitivity,
but can I be
dead serious candid with you
Everybody look down on me,
and talk mean about me
But, in the future, they’re gonna need me
even nuclear more
I’m nature’s finest,
best garbage collector
My critter pals,
when they get their fill of wilderness lost you
They say to me: pick up the trash, will you please,
when we’re through
So I do what I do best ...
I pick the bones clean, rotting flesh and all
I devour the things other animals
don’t got the stomach for
Circling up above,
my telescopic olfactory senses
are searching downwind
I see some fool lost drug mules
thirstily water struggling in the wilderness
They’re slowly dying ... disoriented
since wandering out of the way
Now unbeknownst to them,
the desert will be their last score grave
Once they’re dead and baked,
I’m gon have me a good cadaver brownie cake
Those stashed hash mules done football kicked me good,
‘cause I’m flying high ... higher than before
Man, what an extra-point desert score!
After that sickly sweet rancid taste of victory,
I hear my coyote friends give a howl alert:
pick-up on
Death Valley off road tourist route,
cavern aisle four
But it’s too early for a lunch break,
way too rigor mortis early for me to be eating fresh meat
That poor adventurous soul was compass challenged,
and got sextant separated from the tour group
And he just pauper purchased an early expiration date,
but some things I just can’t bring myself to eat —
I hate fresh meat!
As for now, I’m waiting patiently,
perched on a craggy, desert mountain outcrop
Waiting hungrily ...
for that Big Mushroom feast in the sky
Until that special day arrive,
it’s the same ol’ mundane work routine
Garbage carcase collecting is a thankless job,
but somebody gotta do it ... ain’t that right?
Excuse me, Ms. Mountain Lioness,
can you hand me a rib cage toothpick
from that dead prairie dog
Just give me a cleanup call
when you’re through with the rest of it
CAR COURT
Enter, the older heavyweight steel giant,
The bailiff, a 1954 Hudson, reads unhesitant :
On the docket for this morning : guilty by implication - a Trabant,
In close custody with a Cutlass Supreme for supervision.
Next on the docket: a Pinto for likely gas-tank explosion.
Third on the docket: an English-made car (any marque) - body corrosion.
Lawyer for the prosecution, a pretentious character, a gas guzzler SUV
4x4 off-road with winch - for Saturday use on driveway only -
Hangs out with Vettes; and uses NO2 in fuel. Who?Drugs? Not me!
Downbeat guy as the defence counsel , a solid no nonsense Hummer,
A real enviro-bummer,
Klutzy ugly and personality like a mack truck in summer.
Trabant coughed its way to the stand.
Clerk of court Volkswagen, order in hand,
Read the indictment quietly, efficiently, bland.
Prosecution began with noisy opening musical-horn tunelets
The jury, all serious-minded stolid Volvos and Toyota Starlets
Were not impressed. Hummer clumsily interrupted with an objection, “Let’s
Stop, on the grounds of precedent,” but at this point Pinto reversed,
Crushed its trunk and its gas-tank exploded, and worst ,
Hit the the English car : and into flames they both burst.
Cutlass argued with the SUV, which was winched away pending sentence.
Case against the English car dismissed from lack of evidence.
Trabant was deported back to Germany: no import licence
Overseeing all these proceedings : the ever-reliable, I-won’t-budge,
The I-have-a-spotless-reputation, I-hold-no-grudge,
The mechanical virgin, the silent Rolls Royce as judge.
...........................................................................................................
Man made piece of perfection in god's image
Unique to my own root cause
I breathe your squeeze, curved folds and prods
Contemplating the dreams, you will fulfill
My second chance of innocent wisdom
I will be your dog and master
You my piece
Open for information, this shop is filling up
Wide-screen wonderful as concentration
condensed gripping my number
Closed to recover as the mice creaking raises a Mexican bull
Observed with Charlie in fear of consequences
This dance is freestyle; are the judges impressed and alert?
We shop the horror as the cycle lanes increase in repetitive sense
Steam the dumpling and eat my sweet surprise
White dusting a familiar sweet smell as this pudding is intermittently welcomed
Off road on a peace mission, trademarks of our daily horror
Many thanks for your performance: we share bread as the whine is held silent for now
Once upon, I compare as my trophy fogs
Our rock and roll the best lullaby as you visit new lands
Until the end stops, you return in a dark twisted red cloud
Angry angel performing a heavy Ballard as a personal hurricane attempts a return trip heaven bound
Irrigation shaking our foundation
I age into wine and gums
Confusion stirs so long as memories of a distant familiarity form
I dare not move as the feathers sound a warning
Neutral territory as bland a star can be
I am a creep, and I must stay true despite the design
Still up for freedom while my captor plays a change in palate
Yellow wood with a still red sky as you turn without moving, a blueish purple
Our world is water now, we ride the waves.
Fearful, we play the game
This morning I went for a country stroll
Saw greenery of summer at its best
But off road walking had taken its toll
So the next stop was an Inn for a rest .
Ploughman's I ordered with a pint of beer
I took a seat and watched folk come and go
The sounds of banter and talk I could hear
Background music playing easy and slow.
I finished lunch and left by the main door
A shame to leave such merriment behind
And tempted I was to just have one more
But the home journey I still had to find.
I looked at my map then got on my way
Making the most of this warm summer day.
Written 20th July 2019.
(A ploughman's lunch is an English cold meal of bread, cheese, onions and meat, usually accompanied by butter and pickles. As its name suggests, it is most commonly eaten at lunchtime, is particularly associated with pubs, and often accompanied with beer.)
(The Cotswolds is an area in south central and south west England comprising the Cotswold Hills, a range of rolling hills that rise from the meadows of the upper Thames to an escarpment, known as the Cotswold Edge, above the Severn Valley and Evesham Vale. The area is defined by the bedrock of Jurassic limestone that creates a type of grassland habitat rare in the UK and that is quarried for the golden-coloured Cotswold stone. It contains unique features derived from the use of this mineral; the predominantly rural landscape contains stone-built villages, historical towns and stately homes and gardens.
Source - Wikpedia.com
Covid spread throughout the kingdom –
the people inside the elite compounds,
if they heard the many sounds of the
ill falling dead, did not seem troubled,
not a single head – besides, it was, for
them a special day, 60th birthday of
their consecrated God and his Queen,
to whom all will homage pay –
Politicians and Hollywood celebs alike
will take numbered turn fawning accolades
at the podium mike. Tables strategically set,
armed security carefully to vet every
privileged guest before passing the Walled
Castle-door, so not to allow Covid
to take flight and soar, spreading deadly
spore through the air – over His Majesty's
Red-carpet-floor...
There are plates with gold trim, not the
painted kind – of Twenty-four Karat as their
goblets of wine, precious silver from royal
chambers, billionaire vaults, brimming over
with champagne from prized cellars, vintage
of all sorts, tribute paid by appeasing, complicit
European Courts, with thousand dollar a-bottle
highly acclaimed ports. There will be classical
music combined with White Shaming Hip Hop Rap –
diamonds and precious other gems abundantly given
for gifts, the nation having been well sapped,
American's Treasury criminally tapped,
for the king and queen's off-road treats – while
theft and murder rages in the commoner's streets –
shortages developing to the point masses of
people will soon have little food to break-bread
and manage – to the ruling devils, simply
collateral damage....
I look to the sky and ask,
Can he help find my way?
I've been wondering through this darkness
And still haven't found the light of day.
Struggle after struggle
I'm trying to find my way.
Time after time
I'm clinging to that little bit of faith.
Physically, spiritually, and emotionally drained
Venturing through this storm
But I can stand the rain.
No angels on my shoulders,
It's just demons now.
Fighting for first,
Never know which one is leaking out.
I try to stay positive,
Be optimistic about things.
Then turn to a pessimist,
That's a depressing change.
My mind goes insane,
I can't stay in one lane.
Veering off-road,
So my paths are never the same.
Many things I've seen,
Every memory is a movie scene.
Many are great, but has a fuzzy screen,
Bad shows up clear as day, it will make you scream.
Nightmares keep taking my breath away,
I can feel it in my chest.
Dying multiple times,
But wake up with cold sweats.
I lay here and look up,
I ask why me?
Why put me through the fire,
But have me cold as an ice rink?
Many things inside that I want to question,
Hard to pour out,
I have introverted aggression.
They say send your prayers to god,
Sometimes I feel like I have to leave him a message.
I ask again,
can he help find my way?
I'm fighting for my dreams,
I'm going through wars to be king some day.
Even though this road I'm taking,
May not get me there right away.
I still cling to that little of hope,
That I won't let my faith die away.
Form:
This is my dedication
I am legend, so just push the start
I will save your family, so just call me Noah's ark
A pause on time as they show gratitude to the craftsmanship
1970 they created me, randomly introduced companionship
I transported the elite, by the way I still do
Range Rover was the name they gave me, so I said I do
It's been 44 years, V-6 or V-8, it maintains the same philosophy
I personify admiration; we read while it's in motion your Autobiography
Oh I forgot, HSE and Supercharged are other alternatives to what you can call me
Each with its legendary design and trim, okay enough about me
I send this invitation to honour me by occupying the rear seats
Yes, the Executive-class individual rear seating, those seats
Offering grand motoring while you show off your wealth
Those who pursue me grasp my worth
My capabilities engraved and stamped off-road
I reign supreme as they make way for me on the road
Take a bet; you can't go wrong with the horse power I possess
6 or 8 speed with pedal shifters, I ask you to regress
Allow me to grace your eardrums with the Meridian sound system
View what lacks around you with a surround camera system
I represent the fourth generation but my history remains intact
I had a conversation with my sister earlier, Evoque, she's compact
We agreed that we are timeless, absolutely classical
Should we pass on, our images are imprinted, just absolutely magical
Form:
My wife went shopping yesterday
Posted missing what do the police say
Her weight color and eyes
Please tell me he cries
I need to know for the missing's display
Hey dude can you help me a little more
I know the more you tell hurts you sore
Was she slim was she fat
As a matter of fact
For this loss I'm feeling you adore
What kind of car was she in when she went
Did you own or was it a rent
C'mon, don't be a schmuck
She stole my lovely truck
Charge her for this felony dissent
Hey dude, we apologise for this run of luck
Describe her, for your so out of luck
"Brand new Stealth Black 2015 Ford F150 Raptor
4x4 with eco-boost 5.4L V8 engine special
ordered with manual transmission. Black ARC
bullbar with winch and LED driving lights.
Rock sliders and snorkel. It has custom matching
black canopy over the truck bed.
Hayman Reece towing package. I added a 4"
lift kit with stealth black special alloy wheels and 3.5"
off-road Mickey Thompsons. Custom leather seats
and RM Williams floor mats. DVD with HEMA
navigation system, 21 channel CB Radio,
six cup holders and four power outlets.
She even scratched the door, as he fills up,,,,
Don't worry buddy, we'll soon find your truck
.
Another request to Limerick another Joke.
A little different from the norm, but who gives a truck ;-)
Sometimes, when I step on holy land, my skin breathes flame.
The earth is a bouncing betty.
What sun am I, born of war, drowning in blood;
that pools like mercury?
Thunder bolts in the brain,
messages mistranslated.
We forget we're all heroes,
in the true kingdom.
There are times when the
Valkyr howl for nights on end.
A furious incantation.
Off road, no four wheel drive. There are too many
signs.
Electricity runs. It's water in our veins not blood.
So of course water can turn to blood.
Conjealed carbon integration of void
& soil.
What child am I? born of war,
Born of graves and tongue?
What projection of ghosts am I? traveling at light speed
Overlapping tranquility.
Forever misfired in to the heart?
OUr hearts can't take the shock of divinity that drips
on to these pages; my winged combat boots fuel the quest.
I am forever.
I am constantly being picked from teeth, scraped
from feet; drank from glasses.
A tree falls with an axe swing; a soul fling.
Seeing how far the soul can stretch before the blade hits.
Bone hollow.
Don't you feel me in every molecule of being?
We?
Who am I?
Mirror wounded and unhealable, no matter
what the Oracle says....
There is no one.
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