Long Ramps Poems

Long Ramps Poems. Below are the most popular long Ramps by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ramps poems by poem length and keyword.


Bring On the Rejection Slips and Or Lost Wager

Bring on the rejection slips and/or lost wager

Though flush with good humor
pun one mock two yields negligible
true cash equivalent value won
dirt poor offspring privileged as prodigal son
pockets bursting with legal tender,
where just yesterday I had none.

All polite declinations
strung together would circle...
(fill in the blank)
matter of fact, I just got a slew of them
today June 9th, 2020, what a lucky man
me haint an idealist...,

but winning poetry (writing) contest
or purchasing lottery tickets...
yeah, nothing butta pipe dream
such improbable whimsical notion
linkedin and tantamount
with milkmaid and pail

Aesop pose fabulous incredulous solution
finally good riddance
hand to mouth existence
hello riches, perchance a dollop
and/or sizable windfall courtesy
drawn PowerBall and/or Mega Million ticket

whereby yours truly suddenly
cursed with chump change,
and/or abundant money
would experience "fifteen minutes of fame"
flush with friends and relatives
I (a misanthrope) never knew existed
(perhaps even marriage proposition,

no matter wedded bliss prevails)
interesting... how moderate
and/or substantial wealth
suddenly finds chock a block
acquisitions (regarding brand new automobile,
custom designed house,

travel opportunities galore
(maybe even vacation to Mars)
(despite coronavirus - COVID -19) prevalence,
nevertheless awareness viz immutability altering
pubescent stunted emotional, physical
and social development

profusely sweating hands, social anxiety
all the while knowing money
can't buy happiness,
yet once and for all at long last
free and clear of grinding poverty
cuz groveling along

the pockmarked highway
avails countless exit ramps
plethora of choices
how to be analogous to jolly Roger
piloting immense ship of state
(approximating size of Rhode Island)

equipped with the latest trappings
matter of fact replete
with every creature comfort
analogous to rich
self sufficient independent country
allowing, enabling, and providing
a warm welcome - think unfurled
Harris tweed Scottish welcome mat.

Meanwhile somewhere in Schwenksville, 
Pennsylvania resident 
(within apartment B44)... 
tenant fritters precious time wishfully thinking
(luxuriant life within theoretical leisure class)
finding this nameless scrivener
invariably hoisting himself by his own petard.


Goodbye For Now

large yellow diesel machines coughed
coughed thick black smoke, caught their breath
struggled convulsively and after a series of loud farts
assorted groans and mechanical creaks                                                       
lumbered like broken old men waiting to pee.
Oh, they worked that day, from sun up                                                                            till the orange red sky was upon them
shivering in the cold dark desert sand                                                  
parked together like defenseless tadpoles, 
shaking and quivering in the damp night air,                                            
their job done for another day.
Building what, sand ramps, that's what.                                                   
From nowhere to nowhere!
another notch in the creative history                                                        
duly recorded for potentates from the east
who understand & see cows in the sky                                                         
or not so pretty women with tight green skirts
whores, dirty mattresses and rats                                                                  
who love the companionship                                           
of pencil pushing addicts alcoholics                                                          
and assorted beasts of the mind                                                         
Squalor is the key here
rub your nose in crap is the meaning of their sage advice
promulgated by the ass kissing majority                                                   
who worship at the altar of mendacity
after all, they were at M.I.T. and were bored.                                                
Who gives a shtt! Publish, it must mean something                                      
If it doesn' they were the first to do it!                                                       
Eat flesh and die. Filthy flesh at that,
hardly fine dining, but that's another story.
Goodbye for now.

An Interpretation of Nature and School

Why was my whole special school life, 
An interpretation of nature and school?
A philosophical contemplation and analysis,
A freeway inquiry into the education tool. 

Because the god concept was lain out,
On the household table, delicately spread, 
I was sharp at social phenomenon, 
Even as a primary child was not off my head.  

When I journeyed down the corridors, 
Slowly, because of my disability, 
I was more often than not on my own,
‘Cos the others would show off their mobility. 

So I thought about the politics, 
Of the special school and our integration right, 
Our need of ramps and disabled toilets, 
The importance of everybody’s mindset height. 

I classed the whole organisational structure as wrong, 
For using the carers as playtime supervisors,
‘Cos in my old nursery school the teachers contravened, 
In any tit-for-tat playground misdemeanours. 

The teachers knew us in the classroom, 
So adjudicated fairly and with respect, 
Were able to administer justice, 
Wherever there was a point of regret. 

The carers were just not on my level, 
And you had to do what they said, 
Which overshadowed my whole experience, 
Which made me much see red. 

It was believed that the carers had a light on, 
Because they scribed for us in maths,
But your profession level sets your reception, 
Of high-flyers’ stares and laughs. 

I mean, I didn’t ever laugh at them,
For their low rank and position,
But that just meant they never put me with, 
My parents speech and religion.

But I considered myself determined philosophically, 
Not in the free-will line of thought camp, 
And just needed a man, board or committee, 
To rejuvenate myself and amp. 

So I often spoke with the school doctor, 
The boss of the cliques and staff, 
But the other pupils resented it, 
Laughing at my physical prospects, chaff. 

When your life does not go right, 
Insist, if you can, on calling the shots,  
Make appointments with the gods, 
And beam with importance watts.
Form: Rhyme

Corona Virus

Corona virus sent to try us 
Unnerve  Confuse  deplete  divide us 
It comes to scare it comes to kill 
The vulnerable the old and ill
It spreads it’s panic it spreads it’s fear
It’s  harsh  unjust  mortal ,severe 
Dark and viscous it seeks and thrives 
Culling the weak ending lives 
Misery uncertainty  you cannot comprehend 
Deviant Inimical it’s aim is to offend 
It feels like a movie it feels like a dream 
Locked down and scared I want to scream 
Fear of the doorbell fear of the street 
Fear of the people I once used to meet 
Fear for the loved ones I cannot be near 
Fear of the virus fear of the fear 
War is atrocious but the enemy’s clear 
But the Invisible virus will never appear
It’s in the air it’s on the ground 
On things you touch it’s all around  
it seeks and finds the weak and old 
And suffocates until their cold  
It has no conscience no concerns
It feeds and thrives it lives and learns 
Destroys and ruins breaks and hates 
Silently it decimates 
It Spreads so fast it’s hard to cope 
There is no cure there’s only hope 
It deals in death as it passes by 
No comfort for the ones who die 
Annihilation? is it’s mission
It needs no help or no permission 
A wake of tears and misery 
Is the only trace it leaves to see 
Its pray is helpless and will not know 
Until it’s time for them to go 
Hungry for another soul
It now ramps up The human cull 
Seas and borders no protection 
The world now waits for its infection 
A tiny mist of human breath 
Will make you ill or cause your death 
So hide away beyond detection 
Spare your kisses your affection  
Hide so you may be ok 
And live to fight another day 
Hide so there will always be 
A hope for our humanity
It will not relent There is no cure 
So Stay indoors and lock your door 
Spare your touch and wash your hands
Observe the rules advice and bans 
Save your kisses save your hug 
And we will  beat this deadly bug

Crazy World

I woke up tomorrow
And sat on my head
So I ate supper
Before I got out of bed

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

I went through the bedroom door
And was outside in the spring
It was snowing when I went to sleep
So now I’m listening to the moon sing

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

The sky was brown
And pink and purple striped
Shaped like a frown
And leaking through the roof

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

I’m drowning in air
While frying the constellations 
With a magnifying pear
And some red bloomers

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

I’ll try to fix the mistake
By finding where I went wrong
Maybe it was the beet and chocolate cake
Or the stranger I met on Mars!

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

I’m pacing on the ceiling
Dodging the lava lamps
Later I’ll visit the dungeon
On the escalator ramps

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

I’ll wear my best hat on my feet
Maybe some mascara on my nails
And a blouse on my head
And a scarf of decorative entrails!

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

I’ll have to climb up six million stairs
Just to get lower than this room
And avoid the rampaging parfait fairs
‘Cause they get in the way

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

I might dye a kitten
Like you do Easter eggs
My prisoners would be smitten
with a multicolored feline

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

I have plenty of mess to sort out
And about seventy aliens following me
And someone keeps offering a padded room
Which I kinda want to see

Stranger things happen
In this crazy world

They say I’m crazy and insane
But I say it’s just this messed up world
So now I’m locked up and in pain
For seeing stranger things happen (Like I said they would)

©Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Peace At Last

when the war was finally over they placed flowers

          into the heated barrel of his battered cannon

               gathered condolences and dropped poppies

                    upon unmarked graves and pompous shrines


he was a lucky one who escaped the inferno

          scarred tired and weary of explosions in his mind
 
               they pinned a few medals and ribbons onto his chest

                         held celebrations and parades and glowed in victory


lost in action and deprived of freedom many times

          he never surrendered and followed mad orders

                    took a few lives for glory freedom and survival

                              now he was confined to a wheel chair of anger


a young veteran who gave all for his country

          for insanity gods and industrial military complex

                    a shining example of the pursuit of delusion and greed

                              a hero hooked to the needle and food banks in return


youth spent at the frontline near hell’s entrance

          a wife who divorced him while soldiering on

                    with kids ashamed of the cripple he was

                              he lingered on between hatred and pain


a bit late for brave conscientious objection

          self-help books from charity to cover his wounds

                     the page of his life crumpled the dust jacket torn

                               he finished off where his innocent enemies had failed


a few comrades paid their respects from a distance

          as there were no ramps for their mobility scooters

                    the priest’s words appeared hollow and out of order

                              but at least the coffin was soundproof and safe



08th July 2020
war

Premium Member Modern Poet's Pinball Machine

Roll up to the amusement arcade.
Behold all the video games you can play -
Dodgem car driving games, smash-'em-up derbies.
Claw-crane lunge-and-snag-a-toy games,
Pop-a-shot in basketball hoops,
Pac-Man, Mario, Galaga, Street Fighter.
Way-back in the far shadowy back corner is the
Old ‘Pinball-For-Poesy’ Machine,
with lights blazing like a disco-machine.
“5 Stanzas Fires for a Buck,” reads the sign.
Come on, Come on, give it a go,
you might spark a thought or two!

So I pay my coin!
Down drops the first shiny metal shot.
I pull back the plunger thing, and let it fly!
Off it goes, ricochets off the bumpers.
Careens off the slingshots and rings.
Blasting up and down ramps, snakes and ladders.
Bells ring, lights flash, up goes the score!
Then—look out!
Just when the ball is about to go down the rabbit hole,
I flip the paddle at the bottom, timed with every twitch of nerve,
up goes the ball into the next phrase.
Up it soars, triggering flashes of memory and firecracker thoughts,
thumps, bumps and clangor in my brain.
The bells and whistles ring -
It’s a riot of sparks and sound.
Sadly then, it ends, when my time and luck runs out.
After the fifth ball drops down the abyss,
I’m out!

The poet is thrilled that someone paid to play the game.
Grateful that the reader shared their pinball plunge,
with all its bumps, thrills, bells and whistles.
Following the orbit of words and sparks,
written with the intention of meaning,
hidden between the lines, in the magician’s puzzle of suggestion.
The poet is happy for the reader to
see what they see, hear what they hear,
feel every pulse and flash inside themselves.
Without the poet casting a spell, or implying meaning,
in the telling.

Premium Member The Fitness Fight

Resolved was I to exercise,
To utmost try to slenderize.
From flabby bod I'd poundage peel
To Grecian god beneath reveal.

But soon my straining torso frail
Becomes complaining, moaning male.
I parts exert unused for years,
Resulting hurt benumb with beers.

To tone my sinews, first I stretch.
Then phone to paramedics fetch.
Just sorry sighs remain from squats
As throbbing thighs get daily shots.

I jumping jacks abandon, too,
Lest heart attacks severe ensue.
And ill-advised was somersault.
I agonized and asp'rin bought.

My hopes have ended it appears,
But vision splendid perseveres.
I'll hunk in shorts, admired and slim,
Achieve by sports instead of gym.

But skateboard ramps bring muscle cramps.
Heaved bowling balls great groaning cause.
Midst smoke and smog, I coughing jog;
And lifting weights distress creates.

On bikes I speed, then ointment need.
When skating, fall and aching crawl.
If rowing fast, I'm quickly gassed.
Done swimming laps, I next collapse.

As part of goal to blubber pare
I swallow whole some frightful fare.
I fast food ban and diet plan,
But cannot stand its flavors bland.

It's too extreme to steaks refuse,
Forbid ice cream and buns and booze.
To every meal eat beans and kale
Is dread ordeal that's doomed to fail.

I'll quit improvements causing stress.
Most tiring movements will be chess.
Resembling mummy wrapped in tape,
I'll stay a rummy out of shape.

I'll banish greens, no broth consume,
Buy jumbo jeans, and sloth resume.
For good retire to cuddly couch;
No more perspire nor utter ouch.

         *     *     *     *     *

     (Merely farcical jesting, not
      advocacy of idle gluttony)
Form: Quatrain

The Poet :By American Poet Robert M. Hensel

All About Robert
 
  

Robert was born with a birth defect known as spina bifida. A disability that has 
not stopped him from achieving success in his life. Robert serves as an 
Advocate for the disabled, an on going effort to to better the rights of all 
Americans with disabilities. He is an International poet-writer  with well over 900 
publications Published worldwide. In 2000, Robert was nominated as one of the 
best poets of the 20th Cen.  Just most Resently, he was nominated for the 
pushcart prize, an award giving to Outstanding Poets & Writers. Robert is also a 
Guinness & Ripley's World Record Holder for the longest non stop wheelie in a 
wheelchair, covering a total distance of 6.178 miles. The reason for his record, 
was to help raise money for wheelchair ramps throughout the community. 
 


"The Poet"


Words flow onto paper like rain , forming giant rivers
of unseen lands.
The very force guides us along a journey
that holds of great adventure.
We are the explorers of the literary world.
We must find the courage to write what
others are unable to, with the greatest 
of passion.
A poet dreams. and then must portray his
visions upon the page that lies before him.
It is the beauty of all things that inspires us
to communicate in such a way.
A man does not wake up one day, and 
decide to become a poet.
It must live in the very blood that courses
through his veins.
He is the creator of a world, only he has
known.
He is the actor and director, of all that 
speaks out through his pen.
He is a man of all men, Visionary of all
visionaries.
What you haven't seen, he has.
What you can't say, he can.
For he is the poet.
Form:

Shadows 'Agear' Shattered Anon

It was not only the losers that were staging a hasty exodus around the airport.Largely outnumbering them were native frantic runaways.

Like goaded gazelles, pell-mell, they yelled at hell 
where only disaster and despair could leap to a fare-thee-well.  
Panic and pang made them recklessly swarm and stampede
in a struggle to flee from the land of fear and fire
to a new place wishfully thought to flow milk and mead
before this airfreighter seemed to land as their desire. 


Drawing near, however, they found every access cut 
by grim gunpoints and callous cordons. Most frustrated,   
a few still stepped up and pushed through, guts sublimated, 
only to see ramps retracted and hatches shut. 
Three most daredevil runaways, hell-bent on embarkation,
set to clutch the landing gear without hesitation.
No way to ram ourselves into? No way to get aboard?
"Agear"! Let's push it and persevere until abroad!
They writhed and wriggled, moving heaven and earth 
to barely latch themselves each onto a blue-sky berth, 
like hard-wading lilliputians 
pestering a warm-hearted leviathan,
to which their torsi and all fours 
attached their wishes and woes galore.



But soon after the takeoff, fate condemned their attempts as tragic
mercilessly to the marrow: All their tenacities wiped out by flaccid
balance owing to jolty fuselage and fierce airflow, 
for sure, they were physically shaken off in a row.
Thud! Thud! Thud! These shadows "agear" shattered, 
together with too much of their dreams unrealized, 
telling how miseries of the times are epitomized
alongside oceans of poignant tears spattered.

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