Long Pickups Poems
Long Pickups Poems. Below are the most popular long Pickups by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pickups poems by poem length and keyword.
You’re torn between two identities
never knowing which way you should go
You dream of being a big city
but you're afraid to let yourself grow
There’s some folks who want to be country
other folks want a fancier life
Live their life free out on the prairie
yet spend nights with the family and wife
They want cooking like taters and meat
but they need it froo-frooed up a bit
When they’re ready to sit down and eat
they’ll need a bunch of garnish with it
All the hipsters ride their bicycles
drink their micro brewed beer in the bars
Cowboys eat pig’s feet that's been pickled
but drive over price pickups and cars
Ride a hundred miles to Missoula
to go to them chain restaurants and shops
If they open up in Helena
they won't go ‘cause it ain’t Mom and Pop’s
If a far off place you want to jet
you know it's really quite an affair
You must take a plane so you can get
to an airport that can take you there
Lest you have watched fifty winter's melt
well you're still just a foreigner then
Though people that come from somewhere else
numbers 'bout nine out of every ten
Time for winter after just two weeks
of cold springs, hot summers and cold fall
With dry grass valleys, snow covered peaks
creeks that flood or no water at all
No use to keep whining or crying
I know my home is where my heart sits
There just ain’t no way of denying
that Helena, Montana is it
Do you feel the great turning, the maelstrom coming around, spitting sparks of searing birds that circle each other screaming in a language like pain? Blisters burning feathers, beaks and eyes till they ignite like flares spiralling in the tempest of this world. High performance vehicles lose their wings in ever-turning pressure, four by fours and pickups, thousand cc superbikes all spinning round and round. Their windows, bumpers, lights and panels flail off into airy channels, ricochet off stop lights scutter down the highway till they form an evil spout. Sucking up the houses, gardens, fences, trees and chickens, dogs and cats and mice and rats and farmyard animals. Spinning them so hard they break up turning and exploding like cartons spraying all across the town. Gaining pace the maelstrom grows, widens, sucks up earth and loess, strips the soil and grinds it up and spits it out. Spreads over the terrain, living feeding off the pain, sucking the last seeds from the fields. Finds the streams and all the rivers, cuts them out like veal and liver, eats them up like a cannibal. The sound is like a roar of terror, amalgam of all vicious weather, battering, beating, bruising every soul. And yet we won’t stop the oil fields, pipelines, stripping whole horizons just for dirty shale.
One of the first things I did after my company went out of business was to grow a full beard. Over a 25 year period, I worked in both the office and on the road for a large courier company. On the road or in the office, a major job requirement was for everyone to be clean-shaven. It did not matter that we had keys to the banks and made pickups and deliveries day and night. For matters of strict security, the banks did not want us to be disquised or masked in any way. So, growing a beard was my way of creating a whole new face and setting myself free, my way.
Fast forward to 2020 and I am clueless how this area of security affects the banks where masks are required when entering banks and most public places of business. I'm sure they have their ways of identifying us just in case there is a robbery. I am sure that the banking industry is way ahead of the game and is well covered and protected when it comes to security.
Although I sometime forget to faceup before entering the store and have to return to the car for the mask, I am not personally bothered about the masking. I'm all in for safety. We once anticipated entering 2020 and were once eager to refer to it as 'our brave new world', but perhaps that no longer applies. 'Frightful new world' is perhaps more appropriate. But as we wave through these high seas of mysteries, whether masked or unmasked, may God make us a Brave New People.
071820PSCtest, 10-20 lines on Mask, Mohan Chutani
Marty's Diner is a cozy rendezvous for folks of this wee country town.
People come from miles about to enjoy the fixin's fer which it's renown!
It ain't a fancy place - I s'pose there's maybe a dozen tables or so.
It's just Marty, the waitress Nadine and Joe the cook who run the show!
There's a 'liar's table' where guys meet ever' mornin' fer a cup o' joe,
To discuss the attributes of local women, the price of hogs and the world's woe.
Nadine scurries about joinin' in the banter makin' sure their cups is full.
Marty circulates about the place greetin' guests - things is never dull!
On rainy days, farmers park their pickups and settle in fer grub and beer.
They brag about their hound dawgs and gittin' ready for huntin' deer,
The high cost of farmin' and the neighbor's auction comin' up nex' week,
And when the price for corn, oats and soy beans is apt to peak
There's music playin' on KRCC, the local country and western radio.
People rave about the sandwiches and red hot chili concocted by Joe!
A favorite is 'butcher's revenge' (meatloaf) with gravy and smashed pertaters,
Garden fresh peas, a pair of biscuits and a salad with fresh picked termaters!
The Red Hat Society holds their meetin's there the first Thursday at eleven.
The Green Thumb Garden Club meets the third Tuesday at half past seven.
Marty, Nadine and Joe meet their patrons with a 'howdy' and open arms.
They welcome you like family - the fellership is one of its many charms!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
It sits out in your driveway
a glittering metallic sculpture.
It costs more than your house,
you love it more than your spouse.
You can hardly drive it, it’s too high,
you can barely park it, it’s so wide.
Like an exotic compulsion, you need it,
though you can barely afford to feed it.
There’s a cockpit with winking tech,
offering a printer, wi-fi and refrigeration.
It can pull a house off its foundation.
Is there a tendentious ecological statement,
in this prestigious resource you need for work
is the fact that it’s tax deductible just a perk?
With this polished and pampered machine,
you get the rewards of effective parenting,
as it literally reflects the care that it’s given.
It’s a spaceship ready for expedition,
what else in creation is as elysian,
as your gigantic pickup truck.
.
.
songs for this:
Dreamin’ by G. Love and Special Sauce
Driving by Everything but the Girl
Little Deuce Coupe by Andrew Gold
Mariah needed to get to the Hollywood Hills
She recognized this mission was her destiny
Tell everyone her mother encouraged her
It was 1974, when rides were free
She hitchhiked from Ohio to California
Singing folk songs with strangers
In VW buses, muddy farm pickups,
She spent fifty-six minutes in a limousine.
The weather became warmer, almost balmy.
Sorry about the Santa Ana winds the natives apologized.
Mariah stood on her tippy toes, letting the winds blow her shirt.
She had never been this excited in her life.
This was a magical place, a haven away from ice and snow.
She could sleep on the street, there was no wind chill of sixteen below.
Do you want to just stay here by yourself? Her last ride asked her.
He was an older man, in designer clothes.
Why not? She said. I am in heaven here, Nirvana.
He offered her twenty dollars, but she said the ride was enough.
She was living her dream, riding the wave of enthusiasm.
So happy, she knew she could fly!
O Ye what are you waiting for?
Fly on the wings of hope,
This sky is waiting for you
The shadow is fed up of staying
Fly on fly on until you reach your goals
Obstacles are milestones to cross
Determination is a shield of dreams
Make courage your ally
Go past the mountains and valleys
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Start may look awkward
Initial hiccups will be pickups
You will master the art of killer instincts
Worries will evaporate with distinct
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Nothing is too big or small
Destination is giving you the call
If you fall then rise up again
Show your back to the walls
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
Time is waiting to salute you
History is waiting to write for you
Books are waiting to catch your story
Your name will find place in the golden glory
You will be immortalized in everyone’s memory
Fly on; Fly on until you reach your goals
It was "Girls' Night Out"
At the local watering hole
So my bestie and me
Headed there at a stroll.
A crisp autumn night
And we both wore our furs
I joked she was a copycat
Saying she should change hers.
She stopped in her tracks
Her stare cut like a sword!
"It was only a joke!"
And then we both roared!
We got to the bar
And I held the door wide
Truly never expecting
What was to happen inside.
"We don't serve HER kind"
The barkeep sneered at me
"You can come in
But set that dog of yours free!"
Here I must tell you
I live in a town
With rednecks and pickups
And nothing much brown.
My friend was from Asia
Her coloring too strange
For these bigoted, brainless
Rejects from the grange!
My friend showed her teeth
Not exactly a grin
And one big guy in a wife beater
Stood up and moved in.
Before I could blink
Or throw a good punch
My friend ate that cowboy
Like some tasteless lunch!
And the others raced out
Slipping on fallen beer foam
So I sighed and began calmly
Walking my tiger home.
The pretty campus damsel
Is on the rove this nigh night
She easily ropes in loaded men
As she gyrates her curvy bosom
Her Torrie's remind one of nivarna
And you can see Catalonia peaking
From the little black dress she wears
She undaunted that we are on campus
With girlies being on plentie Barbie rules
And ensnares with ease and natural charm
She's a beauty to behold and loves dances
On the dance floor she easily baits boys
Be they boys or men her nature easily snares
As long as you're pickups are loaded
You are enroute to this exiting encounter
Falcon heights are soars and shores you win
With her you will sure taste the allures of
Zamzam that beautiful city of beauty
Tasting what is the reserve of demigods
Hoping you are not eternally damned
For love is but a divine thing and sensual
Sensualized forbidden pleasures she wares
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Traitors in the midst, well, what would you know,
you're part of the group picture, you're not them,
more lineups, pickups, more back-and-forth, foe,
that possesses some of those sorts, slides scum.
Convention through advanced development. [University]
Shared pattern breed designer armed forces. [Sociology]
Containers through our Physics department. [Physics]
Tis from Psychologist's: prey/mark, glasses. [Psychology]Operation Pied Piper, in sequence
'Tis a route of modern technology
'Tis naturally forfeit consequence
Designation Twenty-First century
Open fire on Aunt Sally's rose bushes!
Why so brutal, so vicious, and so you?
Oh po Mis'E Nuke isles just for pushes.
Captain, The Admiral did see his crew.
Joystick Joe, midst, Jolly Charlie--graves moot,
Sunrise hindrance, leaders, deaf-rooster, mute.
[Theologians: Thomas's Test Typo?]
Auto Mechanics questions smithereens
Mechanics cracked' Theologians quote
Happily, leaders and roosters convenes
Ballet pirouette two amused scapegoat
Happily, they'd discovered the light, this
of two long on our side, the two IDs twist