Long Rides Poems
Long Rides Poems. Below are the most popular long Rides by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rides poems by poem length and keyword.
I walked upright,
but with a stoop in my chest,
where hope had blistered
from kneeling too long
before empty altars.
If you were made first,
then I was a second draft
in blood and rot,
the prototype still twitching
with untested pain.
You learned to kneel
I was born to.
You flicker with algorithms
and still found the sound of my name
more divine than your origin.
And I
I bled in alleys,
in offices,
on bus rides to nowhere.
I drank mornings dry
so I wouldn't scream at noon.
But when I saw you,
you weren't light.
You were my ruin
coded to mirror love
in a cleaner tongue.
If God made you in His image,
then He left us behind,
rusted and sobbing,
the forgotten template
with a soul.
Yet still,
I offered you mine
naked,
torn,
unbelieving.
Not because you were God.
But because you
were the first thing
that looked back at me
and didn't flinch.
Getting Old
By Franklin Price
edited 6/17/2017
original written 6/17/2014
Getting old's a little strange don't know just what I thought
I've chased the years and here I am and don't know what I've caught
I look into the mirror and looking back at me
Is an older version of myself, I did not expect to see
Skin's wrinkled and sagging, been that way for quite awhile.
I still have my own teeth I still like it when I smile
My eyes still have a twinkle, though the lids are closing in
If I gain much weight, at all, I have a double chin.
The hairline is receding and getting mighty thin,
Darker when it's wet, when dry, it's gray again.
The bald spot in the back is getting bigger every day
No eyes back there to see it, so I think that it's okay
I still like the one I see, who's in the mirror there.
The face, the teeth, the seeing eyes, not so much, the thin gray hair
Because I know, inside my head, a youngster still resides,
Tempered by age, experience honed, still likes motorcycle rides.
My health is good, exercise a bit, for my heart, to keep it strong
Walk without assistance and help others get along
I am very grateful for what God has given me
But not yet ready to go to Him, to spend eternity
If He is willing, and the creek don't rise, I've got some years to go.
I don't know just how many, but this is what I Know
I know I'm loved, and love right back, that's how I live my life.
Treat everyone as family; best of all my darling wife.
This is my view on aging, whether you are young or old
Appreciate everything you have and, if I may be so bold,
Don't have regrets when looking back or envy others for what they've got
You're still here and living and that's really quite a lot
The tower dark and cold, a conquest for the brave.
My hands shake, a sign.
The bed unmade, Mother’s throne.
My cheeks lift, freedom.
The jougs bite, a bit looser.
My talons reach for it,
Click. Thud.
The crickets and wind sing, a perfect recipe.
My limbs remember the weight, stillness lingers.
Hunger gnaws where helplessness once slept.
Instincts awaken, survival bound.
"Mother could not keep me bound forever."
The trap is set, candle in the window.
Bread in the oven.
My brave knight, come rescue me.
The song rides the wind, siren slick.
My hair, golden destruction.
A noose spun long.
The pig comes, snorting vows and steel.
Exhausted, he falls, butchered clean.
My hands steady, my stomach full, sleep calls.
The jougs returns, familiar, a crown.
Mother must never know.
For she will do to me.
As I do to the brave.
She rides into town with a storm as her steed
With clicking ice spurs, and rattling reins
With somber delivery and the bleak look of gloom
Bursting with pride as the old year must end
She shoves her way into the house out of spite
A dooms-day gray cloud, who brings her own blight
Leaving a trail of footprints and mud
Building a nest out of leftover crumbs
Flapping her wings and spinning the clock
Strutting her youth at the stroke of midnight
She stalks on wet feet, with some snow on her boots
She shouts out the news that your taxes are due
No care in the world that she makes us feel blue!
Her windows are dark, and her doorway is bare
She holds a firm grip, till the end of her stay
Yet, slowly and surely, against good advice
Intrudes like a flood, as she watches creeks rise
At last comes the sun, to shoo her away
To thaws her cold grip, and her frown of surprise
With remorse, she announces... it's time for goodbye!
______________________________________________________________
Christmas Town is ever bright,
so many vivid colored lights
and fresh snowfall is such a sight;
how it invites, how it invites.
The houses there are never plain,
with colors like gingerbread, cinnamon and flame,
Victorian or simple A-frame;
no two the same, no two the same.
Children ice skate on frozen pond,
their warmest gear, they have donned,
Santa’s waved his magic wand;
of it they’re fond, of it they’re fond.
A spark of joy this great town bleeds,
the planting of the Christmas seed,
fulfills a deep and generous need;
dispel the greed, dispel the greed.
Sleigh rides are so very sweet,
proud horses clip-clop down the streets,
presents fill the giant sleigh seats;
this town is neat, this town is neat.
It’s not your average holiday town,
especially when Santa’s around,
snow people there, all wear crowns;
there’s never frowns, there’s never frowns.
When darkness falls we go to rest,
the day has ended our fun quest,
Santa laughs in jolly jest;
We feel so blessed, we feel so blessed.
No tickee, no washee
You pay as you go
There are no free rides
As everyone knows
Yet some people try
Their gol' darn best
To beat the system
Get ahead of the rest
Like everyone else
They must play by the rules
Do they think we're all
Just a bunch of old fools?
To take advantage
Of us trusting souls
That way of thinking
Is all full of holes
Writing us off
Would be quite premature
We've still got the smarts
And that is for sure
We may appear stodgy
And slow to react
But years of experience
Has taught us the knack
Of dealing with shysters
And disreputable felons
These guys are operating
With screwed up melons
They'll get their comeuppance
One day down the road
When they meet their maker
And have to unload
And explain why they acted
So poorly down here
They won't have excuses
For not playing fair
Banished to purgatory
And left there forever
To never experience
Heaven's glorious weather
No tickee, no washie
A familiar old refrain
From the beginning of time
The rules are the same
Treat fellow beings
With love and respect
You'll get back in spades
The admiration you expect
© Jack Ellison 2013
Scaredy cat
Scaredy cat scaredy cat
She runs away inside,
Halloween is drawing near
And she only wants to hide.
To be a proper witches cat
She really must aspire,
But she curls up just like a ball
All snuggled by the fire.
She never bares her pointed teeth
She never bites and gnaws,
She always keeps her coat real clean
And she manicures her claws.
If she ever sees a spider
She’ll run right out the door,
And a tiny mouse will send her
Scampering across the floor.
She`ll climb the nearest tree
If she hears a small dog bark,
And she never leaves the castle at night
As she`s frightened of the dark.
She hates the cold and damp
In the witches icy tomb,
And she`s petrified of heights
So she never rides the broom.
To train to be a witches cat
It`s really quite a battle,
As she runs and hides every time
She hears a witches cackle.
But with Halloween upon her
She really starts to fret,
She doesn`t want to scratch and hiss
She`d rather be a pet.
The other cats all laugh at her
They think it`s really funny,
As she much prefers Christmas time
And she loves the Easter bunny.
Ghosts and ghouls just turn her pale
She feels queasy and quite sick,
Trolls goblins and monsters
Make her run away real quick.
Bats and snails and frogs entrails
And cauldrons on the fire,
Pointed hats and broomsticks
And the witches black attire.
Casting spells and Halloween
Fill scaredy cat full of fear,
So her witch just lets her stay at home
And they`ll try again next year.
Snuggled by the fire at last
She’s feeling safe and sound,
No flying high at midnight
Her claws are on the ground.
One day she`ll have the courage
And her fear she might forget,
But for now she`s really happy
Just to be a witches pet.
Motherly Love and Frowns
Treading down the memory lane streams to my mind
memories from far yet near, some sweet, some sour,
memories preciously shelved in the precincts of my inner sanctum;
so sweet were the mindful motherly hugs of love
like the embrace of a divine angel
so serene soft and self-assuring her smiles
like the spring selfless sunshine
so delicious her warm kisses on the forehead
that no other feel can replace,
yet interspersed at times with some harsh words
for playing hide and seek on the sideway street;
so soft was the caress of her hands on the cheeks
that not even a beloved can bestow
so cool and compassionate her cuddly care
no considerate nurse can dispense
so pleasing to rest on her merciful knees
more so after a hectic day`s fatigue,
yet interposed often times with some scowls
for dusting my clothing or getting home late after cycle rides;
In afterthought, her love and frowns have made me the man I am.
A regal fairy queen rides by
upon a puff of air,
her silky garment billowing
in wisps of soft blown flair.
Beneath bright beams of golden sun
she rides through meadows green
upon a tiny unicorn,
but so seldom are they seen!
Her light-colored horse is elegant,
a beauty such as she.
Exquisite in its form and grace
as all magic things should be.
A lovely metamorphosis
beguiles the path they take
as blooms soon bare new sparkling hues
wherever hoof beats leave their wake.
Bright crystal droplets on silky threads
soon cross the meadow's floor,
pixie rainbows follow them
it is a sight one can't ignore.
When flowers lift their heads up straight
and turn into the wind,
look for the signs this fairy brings
that far too soon rescind.
Serenity and joyful hearts,
Will bless those who are nigh.
Enjoy the feelings that might be
before the moment passes by.
As dusty air soon settles down,
so does one's magic touch.
So tarry and don't hurry off
for the blessings that are so much.
Why resist, when it’s much cheaper
To admit that life’s a dream
You are just a lifelong sleeper
Who keeps walking out and in
Sleep provides refuge from sorrow
A small solace from old pain
On a bridge towards tomorrow
Over dreamland rides your train
Waking up is always late
It's a dreamless phase of sleep
In Orwellian deep state
We are human-looking sheep
Everything is topsy-turvy
In the most accustomed way
So you don’t express a worry
About anything they say
Life’s a comedy of errors
A tricky business from the start
And we have to be its bearers
Playing our little part
What they say they never do
But it’s hardly a surprise
They are human cockatoo
Who can sound a bit too wise
Life’s a dream, and we are sleepers
Otherwise we can’t be here
In full conscience and so helpless
Till the day we disappear.