Long Peddled Poems
Long Peddled Poems. Below are the most popular long Peddled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Peddled poems by poem length and keyword.
"American Grafitti" took me back again to High School in the 1960's
"Back to the Future's" nifty hot rod took me back in time and almost left me!
"City Slickers" took me way out west, to rustle cows and ride a horse
"Da Vinci's" code, did not bode well, the Vatican did not endorse!
"E. T. " turned out to be my friend, we peddled bikes far past the moon
"Forrest Gump" shared my lunch, and shared his chocolate just past noon
"Groundhog Day" is darn confusing, is it Monday or is it Tuesday?
"Hannibal" is one cruel dude,..........he sharpens teeth so he can chew me!!
"I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry" invited me to toast their wedding
"Jaws" invited me to take a swim! Those who did, were soon regretting!
"King Kong", was one poor ape who climbed too high for past mistakes,
"Lincoln" had too much at stake, but ended war between the states
"Mummy 1" and "Mummy 2" made me cry for Mommy,...PLEASE!
"No Country for Old Men"...but young dudes look, and want to leave!
"O' Brother Where Are Thou?" escaped their chains to play like Ringo
"Psycho's" bathtubs scare me silly, my next motel will be Flamingo's
"Quarantine" because I'm sick? If I stay in bed, they call me lazy
"Rosemary's Baby"...yikes that kid? Babysit....?? Are you crazy?
"Superman" claimed that he could help me, but flew away with no advice
"Titanic" hit a piece of ice, (that Superman was not so nice!)
"Unforgiven" (now is Superman)...Clint Eastwood is the slicker guy
"Valkyrie"'s plot has thickened...Let's all poke Hitler in the eye!
"When Harry Met Sally" I was jealous....her cafe' scene has made me blush
Xanadu had me roller skating.......racing faster, while I'm dating
"Young Sherlock Holmes" was just a kid, I kid you not, he met his Watson
"Zoolander" 's slacks were Cuban made.. I borrowed some and they were awesome!
(and I'm exhausted!)
______________________________________________
For Cyndi's exhausting ABC contest!! Whew!
Dear readers
Let’s dig in to the business of writing
Many are lies peddled by people who come in your life
Some simply because your judgement is different from there’s
Others simply because you showed no effort in a situation but you overcome or succeeded
Others simply hate you for no reason at all
This has lead to many battle cancer,depression,highblood problems just to mention a few
Today allow me to stand on this poetry alter of salvation and preach
Yes you win in some battles or life decisions while;
In others you loose terribly no matter the investment you have put in
But that shouldn’t worry you or make you seem yourself a failure
Why because we got a God that never gives up on us
You ask how I know this
You may be a Christian,Muslim or Jew or even a non believer
But God took His precious time to design you
You are not a mistake of unprotected sex
But God gave you a unique body and shape that does not resemble anyone else
We all got 2 eyes but no 2 humans got the same kind of eyes
This is because unlike human who got assembly plants for cars God created each one of us in a unique way
We are not a product of an identical human plant but we are a sum total of God’s love to us
That’s why someone can sing while another one can only listen to the song
Another one can dance to the same song while someone else can only watch
Yet the singer, the listener, the dancer and the one watching all are happy
God does not ask angels to continue with His creation plan but He takes value in each one of us
No matter we believe in Him or not but He loves us all as unique as we are for we are His testimony of His greatness’
Run your race,live your dream and clap for those who have had there break through
For yours is on the way as well
We all got our time on earth determined, your achievement are well outlined but we push for others decisions in life as they seem working and forget our own purpose of existence
Last but not the last one,I am a poet my job is to preach here to the online audience
What is your purpose in the kingdom you serve in
May those who testify to my words say it is well
#chuimunga the poet
#made in Africa
@3/10/2021
Form:
It glanced seductively at Louis with intricate petals and thorns from the roadside
A weedy hawker peddled the evergreen climber to make meagre ends meet
Measuring up philanthropy and potential for growth Louis dug down in his pockets
Found a new home for the tree as he sought wild abundance and passionate care
Knew nothing about inflorescence and internodes but was enchanted by beauty
Antoinette his young lover and soulmate encouraged the deal knew about botany
While he marvelled at her gait and anatomy long enough to notice the seeds
Visions of swell budding nature embraced and caressed copious plenteous bounty
Lush pink flowers like the innocent blush on faces after commensurate move sent
Delightful shivers down his loins as he smelt musk though the plant has no scent
A love affair uncontrollable emotions gentle pricks of the thorn and delight
Five sepals and they named them faith kindness compassion exultation and hope
Like the name giving explorer Louis circumnavigated earth moon and sunshine
Kept the most wonderful travels from her navel to wild luscious heavenly harbour
Flowerets of communion branches of intricate journeys and spread of infinite joy
They sailed the oceans together with no compass no chart only light from inside
Discovered all glorious reds orange chakras purple indigo and innocent white
Made love in radiant glows of their garden in vibrant evocative synesthetic flow
The Universe applauded chanted approval as they danced naked under awesome
Canopies dawning awnings and became the hippies they had always wanted to be
20th March 2019
Lies are a bill you pay later
And they might make you a traitor
Cut your nose to spite your face
But you have surely lost this race
In your hands you held a life
That you chose to give nothing but strife
So now you want to play messiah
But in reality you're just a pariah
Look at all of those who walked away
A social circle dwindled to nothing today
And you keep running but keep falling
From the bevy of sins we find appalling
You put up walls, dilapidated walls
Destined and damned to fall
If you present a D to evil it becomes the devil
And now for you that's just a lost level
Because you fail to measure up to your grade
And now from all sides you face the shade
And now you see lies are a bill you pay later
But it still hurts my heart to call you a traitor
Lies rely on more lies to get by to get high
To fly and soar and sigh and ask why
You wasted your chance to be a messiah
And now you're just a pathetic pariah
Who peddled falsities like a liar
Now you face the flames and fire
I saw a teenager on the 42 bus,
An older teenager, tall and thin,
He boarded a few stops after me,
And i thought i knew his journey in.
He looked like a CS student,
As i had been in my older teens,
Or at least an engineer, long hair,
For programming he had beans.
The bus ended up at King’s Buildings,
And passed the university’s central block,
So i guessed he was going into the lab,
The computer lab where he would dock.
That journey time in the long evening,
Was so peaceful and dynamic most times,
That I could reflect to rhyme, consider,
The meaning of life, freedom and signs.
He took his jacket off some way in,
As i sometimes would in my wheelchair,
When i peddled along to the Boyd Orr,
Against the flow of students with day air.
Going into the lab at night regularly,
Made you different in culture and society,
But on your initial journeys you realised,
That you have equal worth and propriety.
Listen to how silence sings in the crypt of the forgotten soul,
Each echo, a devotion at the unseen altars of solitude.
We, travelers in an indecipherable odyssey, shadows on the walls of the cavern of oblivion,
Take on masks of smiles and voices, the gala costumes of illusory solidarity.
Society, a pale star in a universe of secrets,
Is the pilgrim that offers us bread and wine, yet leaves our hearts thirsty.
This play of coexistence, a balm peddled by the wandering healer,
Only soothes, does not cure, the drought of communion of each explorer.
In this gallery of spirits, each portrait bears the aura of solitude,
Every canvas, a mysterious zone where colors evaporate into the abyss.
And what separates us is not a wall, but a thin curtain of illusions,
Through which we barely glimpse each other, our silhouettes teasingly caressing through the mist.
Thus, we live, telling stories around a fire that does not blaze with flame,
But with dreams and words that fall barren, like the leaves of an unfinished autumn.
The anesthesia of society, sweet venom that nourishes us daily, keeps us bound,
Not to the people around us, but to the idea that somewhere, sometime, we will find ourselves, completely unexpected.
Blue-checkered curtains are faded and drawn,..
after the years since she made them from gunny-sack cloth
The Singer, long idle, now gathers more dust,
with its needle still threaded and the treadle at rest
As I clear out the room, I think of long hours
of foot-peddled power, and strength in her soul.
She would unroll the fabric of roses and flowers,
with determined resilience in dark circled eyes.
But prudence, endurance, would salvage a way
Abandoned and left in a sea of lost dreams
She picked up the pieces, of patterns and hems
Making a living, and raising her kin,
didn't come easy, but she had to win
A life left unraveled, she must sew up again.
Working past midnight. Spindles would spin. Somehow rekindled
to live once again.
Making ends meet. Selvedge edges and hems
Sowing her heart, sowing her skill, and sowing her soul
Sewn together again
______________________________________________________
4/20/18
Dear Mr. Pound,
Your holiday in Italy
Has besmirched your legacy.
Your Cantos, they plead,
But don’t exonerate,
Not as far as I can see.
Dear Mr. Pound,
Did praise from Hemingway
Whet your narcissistic thirst?
As an ex-pat abroad,
Did you assimilate
What enlightened nations curse?
Dear Mr. Pound,
You made Il Duce smile.
There’s evidence that proves it.
Was your Republic of Utopia
Bi-polar by design?
Or was it simply hubris?
Dear Mr. Pound,
You strain my intellect
With your imagery of life,
And turn my conscience
Hard on itself
With a keen, dissecting knife.
Dear Mr. Pound,
Your lyrics sing to me,
But your politics offend.
You peddled fascist ideology.
If you want my true opinion,
I refuse to condescend.
The nit-wit and the nincompoop
cordially bowed on the concert hall stoop.
Greeting the doorman, quite gaily
who nodded back, though more grayly.
And nobody dared to complain or bemoan
that fools were ruling the cobblestone
streets, where urchins peddled faux-wares
beneath the stoop, out in the square.
And the nit-wit offered a hearty wave,
but clearly knew not how to behave
While the nincompoop seemed a tad more at ease,
his pants were quite low and his crack in the breeze.
And nobody wanted to ask or inquire
whether they should pooh-pooh or if they should admire
buffoons, so clueless, off-putting and addled
for climbing the stairs in their outfits all raddled.
Yet, there they stood with their tickets in hand
eager to root for the symphonic band
as though it were some highfalutin sport
of which they knew nothing, but they would not abort
the notion that they have a place 'bove the masses
or anywhere other than out on their...well, you know.
10/27/16
I wuz relaxin' on th' porch t'other day admirin' th' apples on my trees.
Th' branches began to quake, I thought it wuz jes' a passin' breeze.
Alas, 'twuz them pesky squirrels an' birds eatin' their daily brunch,
Gnawin' an' peckin' on my crop, layin' waste to quite a bunch!
I mused, "Now hold on there, them's my apples they is munchin' on;
I'd better git a ladder an' pick 'em before they is all gone!"
Didn't look like that big uv a job, but therein lies th' rub;
I didn't think there wuz enough uv 'em to fill a washin' tub!
One tree each of Jonathon, Red Delicious an' scrumptious Honey Gold,
I planted many years ago when I wuz young an', oh so bold!
Now in th' autumn uv my life as I plucked 'em by th' gross,
I regretted plantin' the consarned things an' grew somewhat morose!
My spouse an' me filled numerous boxes an' many a shoppin' bag,
An' pared an' chopped up bruised ones - it really wuz a drag!
I peddled th' things to neighbors, th' kids an' many a friend,
Even to casual passersby that I thought I might befriend!
We 'preciate th' left-over apples that God's creatures with us shared,
An' we'll enjoy th' sweet applesauce an' pies my dear wife prepared.
But if in ensuin' autumns an abundant crop uv apples appears,
Th' critters kin harvest 'em - I'll jes' watch an' enjoy a couple o' beers!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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