Long Pickup Poems
Long Pickup Poems. Below are the most popular long Pickup by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pickup poems by poem length and keyword.
(By the time of the shooting of
"The Misfits", the Miller-Monroe
marriage was in deep trouble.
The Pansy is Montgomery Clift,
The Tusker is John Huston.)
After the Fall
It started as a mental exercise.
I wondered if an East-Side Jew like me
(Richard Rodgers, Brooklyn Dodgers,
Staten Ferry, Tom and Jerry,
Radio City, Walter Mitty,
Buddy Rich, Seven-Year Itch)
could sing the song of Stetson-wearing guys,
could capture something of the poetry
of men who have no words.
But then it grew, as all these projects do.
And then I fell in love with Norma-Jean
(no, Marilyn is someone else). I knew
I had to show the world what I had seen
of men who chase the herds.
(Levi jeans, chilli beans,
mustang culls, rodeo bulls,
Misfit Flats, lariats,
pony carts, engine parts,
happy hour, whiskey sour,
bronkin' bucks, pickup trucks,
buying beers, tying steers,
fancy boots, turkey shoots).
Sincerely? Dearly? Yes. I loved that woman -
the one inside, not on the billboard, pouting.
I cared so much, I guess I had it coming.
I was The Man, the one to take it out on.
A mustang in the dirt,
the more I squirmed, the tighter drew the ropes.
She ran to Gable. Primal passion? Rather,
the one thing that extinguished all my hopes:
he was, to her, the archetypal father.
Varieties of hurt
are infinite. The Pansy, Gable, Tusker -
all sorrowing for something. Norma-Jean
has kept her looks (can't say that for The Husker).
Inside, she putrefied. Love turns to mean,
it's ugly to behold.
The pills? The booze? Or was the problem me?
Or maybe everything just comes unraveled,
but some can hide it where the world won't see.
The consolation of philosophy?
The journey is itself the prize. I travelled
in the realms of gold.
At first sight of first snow colour
Scrapbook memories stir with folk within
Where spirits of love, caring, and sharing were
Whispers of our life we shared, brings wet tears that blur
Of the old farmhouse toasty and warm within-doors
Stipend oak wood was fed into its heart to burn
Fiery amber, yellow, and reds comforting flames would flicker
Crackling, sputtering sound of burning cinders
Wisps of oak mixed with ma’s cooking would journey
Shimmying up its way through the chimney
Outside world had been cloaked in a white glittery sheen
A heartwarming Snowman was always seen
Decked out in his red scarf and top hat beaming
By the front porch greeting passersby
Red Birds perched and rustle the winter evergreens
Conifer and denuded trees would unfurl a story book scene
We would peek out the window when pa honked the horn
On his 1940s green worn out pickup to warn
He was back with a fresh cut noble fir for Christmas morn
11/28/2016
It had been a hot and dusty week chasin' them wily steers thro' the chaparral.
And, later, sweatin, cussin' and brandin' them wild critters in the old corral!
It was Saturday night and he was headin' for Rocky Ford to have a little fun.
His jeans was janglin' with his pay from the boss for the work that he'd done!
He drove down the dusty road in his Ford pickup truck, a beat-up '86 One-fifty.
Clad in his best jeans, Stetson hat and Tony Lama boots - he looked mighty nifty!
In the rear window was his fishin' rod and Henry repeatin' rifle reposin' on a rack.
His old huntin' hounds Pete 'n' Spooks enjoyed the ride cavortin' in the back!
He longed to sate his thirst with Colorado Kool Aid, commonly known as Coors,
At his favorite waterin' hole, Cliff's Saloon, the one with the swingin' doors!
He figgered on kickin' up his heels dancin' with the gals as the night wore away!
He reckoned he could even afford a steak with the beer on his meager pay!
There was a honky-tonk band with a pianer, drums, fiddle and 'electric git-tar,
And Rita wailin' "he done me wrong" songs as Cliff dispensed spirits at the bar!
The cowboy was havin' a rip-roarin' time but Cliff announced last call for booze.
The cowboy spent his last few bucks orderin' for his pals a final round of brews!
It was nigh two AM when he got to his truck and roused his sleepin' dogs.
They paid him no mind at all and kept on snoozin' like a pair of oaken logs!
He weaved his way along the dusty road on his way back to the dreary ranch,
Anticipatin' next Saturday night and Colorado Kool Aid for his thirst to quench!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
You had it all wrong.
You were never a fling,
And there was never an ex.
You were his first—never a flex.
We warned him not to simp,
That it was a sign of weakness;
That men must never love,
That body counts matter more than a GPA.
We warned him
You would make him vulnerable.
Now he finally sees why.
We said he'd want to marry you,
And every word came true.
So, did you feel the same?
Now he knows
He was never the only man.
But was he the main?
Were we really honest?
Is this the true meaning
Of love is blind?
Must love make us blind,
Or are we simply blinded by it?
He rehearsed his pickup lines:
"You're hotter than lava."
"I hate my last name—can I give it to you?"
And you smiled...
Was it genuine?
He believed we'd never lie to him,
And we always warned him about you.
But mistakes make us wiser.
Even so,
He would still choose you again.
He grew one of them bushy mustaches
like Sam Elliot wears under his nose
Bought him some fancy duds from Cabela's
sure looked spiffy in his Buckaroo clothes
Alligator skin boots and silver spurs
thought he looked like all them real cowboys did
Added chaps and ten gallon Stetson hat
and called himself the Kansas City Kid
He'd got him a Palomino horse that
he didn't have a darn clue how to ride
And a beat up old red Ford pickup truck
with a blue eyed dog to be by his side
He packed up and headed to Montana
from his home in the woods of Missouri
Said he was fixin’ to be a cowboy
and the best anyone would ever see
He rattled that old truck to Montana
it conked out right there in front of the ranch
He said he wanted to learn to cowboy
if the boss seen fit to give him a chance
Well the boss brought him out to the bunkhouse
told all us cowboys that his name was Tim
Said he wants to be a cowboy you see
so show him the ropes and take care of him
I asked him what he knew about branding
could he stick an iron to a cow's rump
He said he would probably be alright
if I'd be kind enough to show him once
Well can you at least ride that horse of yours
to cut out a heifer or throw your rope
That boy looked at me straight into my eyes
gave me a slight grin then shook his head "nope"
Think you might be able to break a bronc
that has spent its whole life out running wild
“Well I was in a real mean sheep bustin’
back in Missouri when I was a child”
What about fixin’ up supper vittles
I might be able to use me a cook
"Pretty sure I can do a decent meal
as long as I have some kinda cookbook"
Well I got me these here bulls need cutting
and a short stretch of fence that you could mend
Can't be that hard to cut a bull he says
if you would just show me how to begin
That was twenty years ago boss hired Tim
cause there was something in him he could see
Tim spent all that time learning to cowboy
and became the best there would ever be
I look out the window at the tree
in the back yard next door
just behind a small yellow house.
Its crown is still green, but I
know leaves will fall.
A dump truck
with a flashing yellow strobe
crawls along the side street
as a city worker looks
for cracks in the asphalt.
And the neighbor’s pickup
has been gone since last week.
He said in passing one day
he didn’t know if his lease
would be renewed.
I figure that’s the way it is—
people move into the house
and are gone before I have
the chance to know them
as they grow into their lives.
And the city—
it is living and dying
even now, forty years after
the tractor factory closed.
Locals in the neighborhood
bar downtown still gather
watch football or baseball
and commiserate—
but even someone new
is greeted as a friend.
And I’m back in town
to stay after four years
of working with construction
crews in five different states.
Two darkened windows
of the quiet house gaze
across the front yard, ghosting
the lives of those who have
come and gone.
under
control
all's well
in whole
never
better
to the
letter
what's this
mary ann
open up
worm can
I see
blonde curls
flying
squirrels
am I
insane?
or, just
a bird brain
wait, but
it's open/shut
one minute
wingnut
I'm in the
trenches
taking leave
of my senses
open eyes
light a candle
she flies
off the handle
feelings
linger
she gave me
the middle finger
a big
talker
off her
rocker
in trouble deep
losing sleep
counting
hallucinations
and sheep
twiddle
digits
fuss and
fidget
keep a
tight lip
take
another sip
or a
gulp
beat yourself
to a pulp
living
hell
I hope
it ends well
or maybe just
a hiccup
fifty-two
pickup
Corona virus pickup lines...
Hey baby, I'm still employed.
What's a girl like you doing anyplace? Seriously, wtf? Go home!
You're hotter than medically recommended.
thoughts..
Don't fall so in love with sad poems that you become one.
Today is both the oldest you've ever been and the youngest you'll ever be
I'm sure waterboarding is all they say it is but try and take a rubber band out of your hair you used for a quick ponytail.
That old monster school is rearing its ugly head.
School (11th grade: virtual) starts in 13 days. sigh
School doesn't teach life skills - but I can solve a parametric equation.
Age doesn't define maturity any more than grades don't define intelligence.
Friends joke with one another:
‘Hey, your dad’s dead.
’Hey you’re poor.’
That’s just what friends do.
Watching my mom on the computer and thinking
Why did you do THAT?
Why are you using Internet Explorer?
Your caps lock is on.
OMG you're so SLOW.
You don't need to double click THAT sigh
Is this is going to take ALL DAY.
MOVE AWAY - LET ME DO IT.
Five o clock friday a hot afternoon
Daddy will be home from work real soon
Here he comes pulling into the driveway
58 Chevy pickup ill drive that truck someday
Into the house he went he had a hard day
Brother and i following behind him daddy daddy daddy
Momma cooking spaghetti aroma filled the house
Momma said wash your hands boys dont shout
After dinner daddy said lets go to the drive in
I jumped up and down momma said whats playin
Goldfinger Steveve McQueen The Great Escape
Wow i thought in my mind i cant wait
Out of the house we all left
Into the car we all piled in 56 Olds Rocket 88
At the drive in were pullin in
Daddy paid 50 cents each kids under 12 free were in
Almost dark now movie about to start
A big cockaroach ran across the cars dash momma jumped out of the car
Those were fun times a kid growing up
Memories of the drive in daddy made it happen just for us
Form:
Grandaddys gun is sitting in my safe
It's a rusty old single shot 12 Gauge
It rode the rack in his pickup
And to him it was just a gun
But to me.... It holds countless memories
You see that kitchen prayer on my wall
It's the same one we recited, when I was very small
We'd say it fore each Sunday meal
But that's not only its appeal
To me, its much more than ornamental....It's Sentimental
I'm not sure what it really is these days
Is it low T, or is it just my age
Of all the things I've ever owned
What I cherish most in my home
Are the things, that are so elemental
I'm sentimental
Over there on the mantel lies my best dog
With his collar and a lock of hair, taped to the box
I couldn't put him out in the yard
Cause if we moved he'd be too far
I still remember, when he came home from the kennel
I'm sentimental
You can call me any name that you'd like to
And my wife says I'd keep it all, If she'd allow me to
I don't understand why everyone has to be so judgmental
I'll be this way till my dying day
Just call me sentimental
I'll be that way to my dying day
Cause I'm sentimental