Long Passenger Poems
Long Passenger Poems. Below are the most popular long Passenger by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Passenger poems by poem length and keyword.
Diesel fumes soar through the air
Venturing from South towards the West
Riding the rails without fail
Around the mountainous bends
The valleys and rivers below
Maneuvering through trees of forest among the hiking trails
The Sun beacons in peeks of shades among the trees
The theme “GO WEST YOUNG MAN” being a mission follow through
Station after station
Taking the scenic route of America’s best
Intermittent views that parallel with the train windows
Endless miles into the destination to arrive
Splendid majestic mountains high
Open space as far as the eyes can see
Scenes of America’s landscape
Travel Pursue
Major cities and towns of America’s neighbors
Once upon still establishing in the present
The smell of Diesel flows through each passenger car
The sunset Limited has travelled far
Conversating passing the time to other fellow passengers aboard
Strangers at first then friends thereafter
The Sunset Limited fulfills its promise
Journeying on without delay
The thought of the west and how it was won
The Wild Wild West back in history
Reliving the train historical phases
When stagecoaches and Indians were the focus of western heritage
The sun beams and shines over the silver causing shadows
The night assures restful sleep
As one ventures, their souls to keep
The four days have awakened our eyes
Los Angeles, we have arrived
City of Hollywood full of entertainment
A week to view and tour
Sunset Limited was a follow through
In Los Angeles, there is lots to do.
Written: January 26, 2024
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Rumi Quote ("Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because, for those who love with heart and soul, there is no such thing as separation.")
All beings carry an inner flame, a divine spark,
Our goal is to allow light to shine within dark.
Everyone has a stiff gift, talent, or skill to share,
Serving others makes our souls elysian to dare.
Acts of love and caring could offer us delight,
By exhibiting warmth, not schist and phyllite.
It is our collective effort to improve life-earth,
When our soul's task is what drives us to birth,
We feel content and halcyon in our actual sense,
We are aware that we are shifting our presence.
Beyond everything else, this ought to be crucial,
Aversely relishing awards of hustle for frugal.
Spirit is a passenger on an arduous path,
An odyssey spanning countless sides of wrath.
Soul grows and evolves with its realness,
And draws nearer to its trustworthy purpose.
Spirit vision is to testify that it is divine,
To meld in a sumptuous root, letting it shine.
Doing so implies soul concedes vanity,
And wholeheartedly embrace its core chirality.
Embracing an ethereal embedded element,
Fulfill fair function, fixing forthright firmament.
Realizing we're not the dreaming dual drama,
Bilocation hints to grasp a restive soul's lama.
The path of a spirit can be filled with faintness,
Yet it regularly bestows layers of greatness.
Following death, psyche gains fresh insight,
It blooms and grows in power and oblivion rite.
Spirit will ultimately fulfill its destiny,
And shall be united with its roots celestially.
But, in any case, the soul persists in its path,
Expanding and maturing with every wrath.
Many Soupers are getting older, the train ride to heaven has started rolling.
Many creative~wonderful~magical writers we do have, too many names now on the list.
The train is getting fuller, with a new passenger that was just added. L. Milton Hankins now riding in the red caboose, he is bringing up the rear drinking juice.
One day each will take the train ride, then we will all meet in heaven. No more pain or suffering, a day to unite and say hooray. We may be called to read what we write, smile~laugh then tell Soup goodnight.
Date Written: 12/28/2022
1 Place
In Honor of Milt - An Un-contest Contest
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
Living is like embarking on a ship
A ship having no specific destination
A ship with no captain
No sailors
No handymen
A ship which simply has to keep sailing
Amidst the rough waters of Earth's seas!
Prone to be easily sunk
It imbibes,
In its passengers,
The feeling of uncertainty
Allowing them, though
To relax
And to hope
A little
By providing them spiritual pathways
To try to save their consciousness
After they shall shed off their bodies!
The pathways are played to the passengers
As the ship determinedly goes on its way
The pathways are played,
All the time, continuously,
Even if some prefer to listen to life's songs rather!
Life, so like a maniac,
Reaches out to the ship and pushes itself in
Baffling the passengers with its many tricks and illusions
So that they do believe in it and forget
That,
Should they try to step out of the ship,
They would fall in the waters
As,
Each passenger is meant to reach a specific harbour!
As they fall, blindly and ignorantly in the raging waters,
Life roars with laughter
Feeling so mighty
As it knows
That those who fall into its trap
Will have to start its game all over again!
I, for one, remain rooted on the deck of the ship
I have seen through life's games
And I fall not for them
Yet, it happens that I long to allow myself
To fall in those rough waters
As doubt and distrust fill my whole essence up
And I simply wonder
About the meaning and the purpose of it all!
However, each time,
The power of faith rings its bell loud in my heart
Pushing me away from the ship's edges
Why, if life does be with its ship and with its rough waters
Pray, it must surely have its own purpose
Doubt does show itself up in my soul
But then,
Is it not said that
Faith gets strengthened through doubt!
We were not in line, but waiting for something.
It was an evening in June, 1968.
An expensive Cadillac appeared and the passenger door opened.
A gorgeous leg exited, along with a flashy red silk dress.
The woman was blonde with caramel skin and princess eyes.
Her date was a handsome man with contrasting features.
He was as dark as she was light.
They were confident like movie stars.
I was a teenager and did not meet them.
I do not know their names, but I have never forgotten.
The way they were comfortable with each other
Their clothing or their classy midnight blue car.
I thought “when I grow up” I want to be them.
(Soliloquy of a young passenger aboard the Titanic)
I know last night's storm. What? Oh, I forgot.
In the midst of fading sounds and shadows
I'd heard less, seen less, be wanted for not.
Whilst in the fullness, buds I, a youth grows.
Death be heard, death be seen, what does it mean?
The dearly departed ... was it so dear?
Live I these years, and be dead at nineteen?
And what of my dear family ... I fear.
A precious life gone, was it worth the price
For whilst my soul lived, know I was ignored
Glad wouldst I be found, naught a sacrifice.
Leave this soul behind a life as pictured.
Soon I, in the midst of soulless searching,
Sole say I, What wouldst be the reasoning?
Pouty lips crave your passionate kisses
Why must you torture me, by holding back
Give into your heart's desire and feel bliss
It will be our love song , a sweet soundtrack
This melodious tune will play all night
You and you alone can put out this fire
You're the pilot, take me on a good flight
I'm the passenger please take me higher
I don't mind turbulence, just go steady
The altitude is just right, I can't wait
It will be a nice trip, I am so ready
My love this is such a heavenly state
Baby I hear birds singing, we must land
It's fine my love because it was quite grand
11-22-16
Alexis Y.
**A Travel East**
We pass the Grand Mesa cruising like lightening at 95mph,
I feel like a passenger on a toy train.
A mountain 11,000 feet above the ground,
auburn colored, rock faced cliffs, complimented
by a spectacular baby blue sky.
Clouds scatter, trying unsuccessfully to cover
the rapid sunrise.
Blue,
Indian orange,
and red mix together well
with the beauty of the cliff face.
Along the base,
the Colorado river
races.
Not quite a rapid,
yet swift enough to scare rafters,
and small animals.
Miniature icebergs travel through a small channel
created in the ice of the once wide river.
A family of coyotes gather on a patch of solid ice.
The young playfully roam,
while the adults relax, lick themselves and watch.
Deer prance across the terrain,
chasing the train.
Detained,
inside a fence,
cattle graze in a group of one hundred or so.
A cottage rests along the perimeter
where children play.
Bundled from head to toe,
Snow,
thick and heavy.
Frosty is created!!
Homeward bound!!
The ride semi-pleasant,
better than the first.
The lavatory still with that distinctive
musky urine scent.
The passenger car seems bigger this time,
more spacious.
Room for my long legs,
and wide enough to accommodate my beer gut.
I hear the rantings of an old married couple
as they bicker about what time dinner should be reserved for.
Beside me,
laying awkwardly,
an old man snores.
Shallow breaths in between,
I can hear his heartbeat.
Pounding like
a heavy percussion solo,
his feet propped on his duffel bag below.
The lobby car when first entered
looked barren.
A few passengers sit with books and laptops,
others watch as the fast moving terrain passes
through the tinted double glass.
My cell phone lost battery life and I
needed the accommodation of electricity.
Occupied,
I wait for my turn.
From my peripheral I saw her,
I could sense her aura.
Smell her aroma of Vanilla Musk.
Dirty blond hair with red highlights,
short but not to short,
with a friendly disposition.
So,
I sparked a conversation,
that helped better this expedition.
Jared Pickett
3/7/08
Asavvy1
Whether a trip to a sister's funeral in Chicago;
Or another trip to Los Angeles for my aunt's funeral;
Or a slow ride to a family reunion in Chicago;
Or a 'Bucket-list' trip to an NFL game in Kansas City;
Yes. It seemed that most rails I took led to Chicago.
It's true. Several times we never left on a jet plane.
There were some great train rides, long and slow.
There were five time-consuming and memorable rides,
Sharing a dinner table with a mother and child;
Or a conversation with two unforgettable strangers.
The Great Salt Lake and breath-taking sceneries,
Including dark rides through narrow tunnels;
Roadside stops in small American towns; Great
Views of the Colorado River, and lots of friendly
Waves from a passenger train called The California Zephyr.
The California Zephyr is a well-chosen and defined name for
a train that served us well. Indeed, it was like a gentle wind
blowing from west to east. There were 58 treasured hours
spent alone with my lovely spouse as we ate enough almonds
for a lifetime and some very expensive snacks.
Hey guys you thought it was fun to joy ride
Steal a car and go wild
Racing through the streets
Faster and faster
You were heading for disaster
Your passenger can be heard shouting on his mobile to another friend
SLOW DOWN! SLOW DOWN!
But the driver laughs
The police are chasing
Blue lights flashing
He doesn’t want to get caught .... and end up in court
The speed increases
Ninety miles an hour
SLOW DOWN! SLOW DOWN!
You can hear the panic rising in his voice
But he’s strapped in the passenger seat
What started as fun is a living nightmare
Left turn, right turn
Weaving and dodging the cars on the street
Then they reach the point of no return
CRASHHHHHHHHHHHH
Sadly this is loosely based on an audio transcript from the video recorded on the passengers phone and was the last recording of their voices so I’ve written it as if it were a final phone call - the footage was released by the parents to act as a warning to other youngsters
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