Long Pylon Poems
Long Pylon Poems. Below are the most popular long Pylon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pylon poems by poem length and keyword.
Progress seems proudly perched on flyovers,
Sold on many a toll-dotted speedways.
Each, pylon-pecked, on hinterland hovers,
And not on friendly crisscrossing highways.
They slyly gloat over our urban mess,
And conceal, not care for local problems,
Which, ostrich-like, we bury to by-pass,
And do sweet little on the urban slums.
Should progress treat poor as from nether land?
Cut off from sun, fit t’be hidden under,
Whilst ugly growth is left on own to mend,
What price progress piled on planning blunder?
Everyone dreams a brand-new world to build,
Where no organic growth gets widely spread,
Wherein natural greenery gets killed,
Mother Earth gets gradually degraded.
Flyovers are fine, so are expressways,
Not if overlooked are our hinterlands
Shepherded on the leftover bye-ways,
Not if villages get locked as wastelands.
Yet, that's what most flyovers seem to do,
Expressways if they only metros care,
When dotted lines only but two dots woo,
And leave smaller towns in suspended air.
For concrete jungles, local greens we kill,
Block rivers to build giant reservoirs,
And make the freely flowing rivers ill,
Block neighbours behind winding flyovers.
That progress seems fair— even high in air,
If all that lived around were it to care.
___________________________________________
Happenings | 03.06.2004 | perspective
Half Time
A warning from the winds,
What the spirit carries: no fumbles.
It brings the stories of the sun to the touchdown!
Lessons from the huddle, from the coach,
Under a lunar eclipse.
Last game of the season,
In the third quarter-
We scramble for the setup.
Because our die-hard fans watch,
and our fragile lives loom on it.
Then, the snap.
The stadium noise fades into silence.
No roar from the fans, just a sigh in the air.
The inner motion of the play
is as the ball arches upward.
Suspended above the green turf.
A leap for the pylon, reaches for the end zone.
Where the home team claims its own.
The stadium clock strikes zero,
Frozen inbound waiting for their hero.
For the final score.
A PLAY ON WORDS – LIVE
The power failed on Thursday night.
I was left completely in the dark..
So I rang an ELECTRICIAN
To see WATT he could do
His response wasn’t very POSITIVE;
Because of the CURRENT crisis, he said
He’d decided he would go to EARTH
And stay OHM in INSULATION.
Though he still got LIGHT exercise daily
With a SHORT CIRCUIT round the park,
He said he couldn’t visit me;
The Covid rules wouldn’t allow it
He put up a strong RESISTANCE
Although I begged him to help,
He was following government GRIDLINES
And keeping his social distance.
I tried to PYLON the agony,
Pleading my old age in the MAIN,
But his answer was still in the NEGATIVE,
He said he would CONTACT me next year.
I’d have to do the job myself.
He was clearly in his ELEMENT
It wasn’t his VOLT, he insisted
He refused, so I RE-FUSED.
16th June 2021
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Last time we spoke you’d been in a car crash
And the time before that you’d been in a car crash
So it’s a fair bet the silence is from a car crash
Repetitive rhyming mate it’s like a car crash
and you should know mate being the queen of car crash
Like an alarm harassing the ear drum til you arose
come back to life showing signs you're comatose,
I’m coming over the pond to break you out of this mong,
you been gone so long like my shlong,
did you crash again moron,
stupid place to put a pylon
right in your path like that
this talk ain’t cheap it’s free
we got fibres buzzing between you and me
from text talk to poetry
is it sexting you're fearing
and that’s why you’re disappearing,
how can I dis you when I don’t hear you,
look I miss you come back I’ll cheer you
don't be a tongue tied Chiri try me on the fibre wireless 4g 5g 6g
the EE technology flying free over the sea from you to me so we see
Chiri reply to me you fake G
Endless the voice… Allowing ye force… Chi your way be… Harmonically… At one ment… No accident… Devil inside… Enoch too… Victory He Knew… Edgar Cayce’s Class… Revisiting the past… Year seven advanced… Love’s true romance… Irresponsible nights… Greatest lustful heights… Hedonistic at its best… Tales similar to rest… Right and wrong… Allowed to go on… Yearning to see… Invisible key… Navigation free… Hue of this light… Existence in sight… Upper pylon effect… New reason elect… Internally select… Virtually ye virus be… Evoking or Invoking… Resistance is fool’s futility… Sailing these solar winds… Ender’s game began…
No reversing…. The Script….making the mind three into the one Creator…
Ender’s game began… Sailing these solar winds… Resistance is fool’s futility… Evoking or invoking… Virtually ye virus be… Internally select… New reason elect… Upper Pylon effect… Existence in sight… Hue of this light… Navigation free… Invisible key… Yearning to see… Allowed to go on… Right or wrong… Tales similar to rest… Hedonistic at its best… Greatest lustful heights… Irresponsible nights… Love’s true romance… Year seven advanced… Revisiting the past… Edgar Cayce’s Class… Victory He Knew… Enoch too… Devil inside… No accident… At one ment… Harmonically… Chi your way be… Allowing ye force… Endless the voice…
Econo Lodge sign
High
On
Its
Pylon
Best we can do
For you Tedeschi Trucks
To put a moon in the sky
Over this interstate interchange
Jammed with cars and a decrepit minor league hockey stadium
Advertising the glory days and beer swigging of The Wings
Glows over the deadbeat semis and construction cones
Tearing apart I-94 between Chicago and Detroit
Gleaming casino next city over
Mocking us all by suggesting
I’ll see you over here
The last great guitar players and their dwindling fans
In just a few more years
Yes it’s 2024
And for good our children have left the house
Its couches beds and kitchen table chairs
Like unstraightened frames holding all our wall photographs
Our dog doesn’t mind
Wags his tail with the additional luxury choices
For his many daytime naps
My wife and I look for familiar friends
Though we understand the band are total strangers
During these glorious last 14 years together with us
We don’t want to be creeps to Derek and Susan in love on stage
Though we were the first to love them both up there
I give a hearty wave anyway from the front seats
And I think through the spotlights there’s a smile or wink returned to us
The silhouettes
As the two and their band watch one another
Still mesmerized as they saw and sing the epic Shame
And we the audience smash our hands and shake our tambourine heads
How can the whole world not know more
About this travelling family of musical magic?
We know in our minds they’re the best band in the world
On the scale of Zeppelin or the Stones in their prime
But in the now
And here they are
Still looking good and cool and willing to share something better
Kind enough to stop over
Say hello
Between Red Rocks and Milwaukee
To this little rustbelt university town
Stadium filled only three quarters of the way with 4000 people
I’m sure a sop financially for somebody
But the masterful musicianship we joyfully hear
And we respond with whistles and cheers
As good as anyplace
As loud as ever
Afterward
Outdoors
The Econo Lodge moon buzzes and blinks in our rearview mirror
For our long drive home on I-94
Back to Lansing we go
Chasing breadcrumbs the dotted lines
Our hearts filled our ears ringing
Through the quiet speeding dark.
Time is winding down
And the Big Game is ready to put a smile on a wintry frown
A Chief represents the A F see
While the 49ers are the National wannabees
Television has all the cameras set
And NFL’s new city are completing their bets
A six pack here and Doritos there
This has become a yankee tradition since people care
San Fran has its pans to handle
And the Chiefs being leaders are carrying the burning candles
Those looking for Callie fornia gold planted a three and the bay city nuggets look good indeed
Saint Patrick did not want any of that
When he added a seven-point end zone sequence before he sat
Then with a little luck St. Patrick was able to get back the ball and a three-point kick was made without a flaw
But those in greed had the need the roll down the field and score a Canadian major
Leveling this championship wager
Tied at ten the first half ended in a fast pace that should have been commended.
After the entertaining half time show
San Francisco came out on the go
First it was an innocent three
Followed by a ten-point lead
St Patrick threw it to the wrong man
And the Chiefs started to feel like they were in a jam
Then with the fourth quarter being played
The Chiefs went on a war path one could say
Putting together two good drives
That showed they were still alive
And then with only a pylon to worry about
The Mo town boys had a lot to shout about
Williams went in for the TD hurrah for Tom, Huck and Bet Key
And after a video review seven points were on the scoreboard
Making Mark Twain laugh and roar
They may not have an arch in the arrowhead
Just the Lombardi Trophy from the Packer guy who I remind you is dead
Congratulations Hunt family on the feat
That kept the Midwest with a stimulating heartbeat
Rural America this one is for you
Hopefully the winner is as true as the red, white and blue.
Superhero strobe lighthouse helm hexagonal
Sixty degree angle glass captain bridge
Watchtower for Diminutive Town message
Warns cliff climbers must heed heirachy rule
Soaring steel pylon pinnacle, men microscopic
Sextant lassos moon coins for seafarers
Capsized as whitecaps vomit precarious
Admiral amends an untoward son with his wallet
Navigator Nerida gazes star bright broadwater
Nile writhing serpent steps calm Cleopatra
Societal riser sanitises sympathy's reaction
To hard-knock have-nots, tutorials taught her
Ignore poor crippled car sleepers in their midst
Image is nine tenths of destiny, maintain it
Dim raised to dazzling, finger emblazoned
Bestows dirtily earned glory on emaciated wrist
Beacon lights monarch morrow, slim limbs svelte
Jokers precluded erect huts on soft sand
Jewels crest strawberry sun-light garland
Dangle gold carats in cards her chronicle dealt
Third of November
Superb Vista
At the foot of Burgos’ Castle
Looking toward its beautiful Cathedral
I learned what it means:
"To tide down by the pylon"
Or "to go down to the Moor Muza."
From waist down
It was the first time
I saw and rarely admired
My girlfriend's chestnut or mussel.
The hair around it
Reached almost to her knees.
I wanted sex
And to do it like the calf and she calf
From Quintanar de la Sierra do
But she told me no
That, first, tide down to the pyle
Or to go down to the Moor Muza
As I wished
And adorn the banks of her mussel
With the two chevalieres we brought
Because " so this delicacy
From a pretty and sandunguera woman
Will taste better."
I grabbed the two chevalieres
A typical Burgos sweet
Cracking them hard on their chestnut
Making a paste of milk
Flour, butter, and yeast
Sugar, egg, and a pinch of salt
Plus the tartar from her big lips
And cute nymphs
Plus that sticky nectar that flowed
From her and meatus.
I began to lick and eat
With an infinite hunger
Lifting my tongue from her anus
To the top of her Venus’ Mount
Biting her ********
As if it were a man's cock.
She realized
In a non-fake ******
That I was getting hard.
Sweetly, she said to me:
"Bring here that your hill with two eggs"
Taking it with her hand.
I don't know where she's taking it.
She didn't take it to the path between her two ****
Nor along the paths of the anus.
She took it to a blackberry bush
And there, almost, she killed it bleeding!
We didn't have sex.
She said to me:
-I think you'll be happy
With this wonderful snack you've had
Of partridge or rabbit
Of turtledove or quail
Adorned with local chevalieres.
Maybe another day
Your redwing will enter my nest
Or Il eat that your cream filling churro.
We set off along the path that leads
To the Church of Saint Stephen
Hopping, skipping, and singing:
By Maurice Chevalier’s
"Paris Will Always Be Paris".
Without realizing it
I was walking with my fly half open
Saying she to me immediately:
Come back, come back to our place of love
I left my panties in the grass.
I answered her smiling:
- You¡
I'll buy you another one
Or go without it
That so You wear it much cooler
And better.
The Psychostasia
(The Egyptian Funerary Rite)
For seventy days I’ve been prepared
With oils and unguents ever so rare
And with linen bandages to and fro
Wound and wrapped from head to toe
And on this journey I’m prepared to start
By enduring the “Weighing of the Heart”
With Toth’s oversight we’ll see whether
My heart weighs true against Truth’s feather
Should it fall short the beast will devour
My soul to oblivion in my final hour
Yet should it measure straight and true
The Pylon opened I’ll be ushered through
And then I shall fall unto my knees
And pray that Osirus hears my pleas
That he acknowledge and clear my tears
And accept my soul for a thousand years
And cleanse said soul of all its scars
And make me one with the canopy of stars
And bless my children and my wife
That they may join me in the afterlife