Long Speedometer Poems
Long Speedometer Poems. Below are the most popular long Speedometer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Speedometer poems by poem length and keyword.
(composed about eight years ago
moments ago this poem underwent
slight poetic surgical face lift
modifications by this bro)
this spine tingling reaction,
sans flushed testosterone
from heads to toe
sketched out sometime
from ~july or august 2012 or so
and (just now) triggered chain reaction for roe
man tick undulations i.e. wishful desires slow
lee shifting (in seconds flat)
from neutral to overdrive
exceeding speedometer limit maximum
nearly attaining speed of light quo
shunt seeing an aesthetically pleasing chic chick
in the summer of full feminine bloom
envisioning plunging hot rod
into her lubricated derrick
(and yes, young enough
to beget me via coital fling
a splendid supreme offspring
of this gap toothed fifty three year old simian),
who doth wanna swing
like a boyish chap
at prime love making time zing,
with thee, whose primary purpose comprised
tutoring my daughter whose deficiency
with language skills warrant
communication exercisesd
born with cognitive developmental delays
in sundry dis guised,
whose academic weakness qualified her since birth -
or soon thereafter meta morph a sized
to receive intervention to allow, enable
and provide her with life skills
even though patience thoroughly utilized
so she can become self reliant as an adult
thus bringing this papa aegis
of said progeny prances carefree like a colt
and via exposure therapy
comfort zones, convince this dadaist dolt
magic touch, sans young women,
(who seem prominent in social service field)
bear witness as thy Punim doth molt
blindsiding actions of tender loving care
these myopic eyes
with hypnotic trance observe flair
ring results conjuring up illusions of grandeur
spurring commendable utterance
of touche...here here
but self consciousness kept gleeful outburst
under lock and key lest detriment comb near
compromising instructional progress,
that could easily dis ap pear
into a sinkhole forsaking requisite basic skills
reinforcement ever since first year
It is a gorgeous spring day, there are greens on both sides of the road.
The smells are fantastic, and my hair is blowing like I’m on a cycle.
I’m actually driving my new purple trans am, windows down, music blaring.
The white racing stripes might have been a bit much, but
Not for me. The sun is beaming on us with magic happy.
BRRRR BRRRR GRRRR
Should I try to outrun him?
He’s gaining on me fast. I glance at speedometer. Swear.
82 m.p.h. This is what happens when I listen to the Oldies.
I pull off, waiting, heart beating fast.
Lanky patrolman pulls himself out of car, gets younger as he gets closer.
“Hi,” I say, brightly.
He says, “License and registration, Ma’am.”
He is carrying his ticket pad, and a pen.
My hands are shaking as I start stammering nonsense.
He studies my license a second, says, “Just a minute, Ma’am,”
Walks back to his car, slides in, sits down, spends an hour or two in there.
I get worried I might have accidentally handed him my big-limit Visa card.
My heart is thudding, as I watch him laboriously walk back to my Trans Am
Who is not feeling so fine and foxy now. “It’s your fault!” I tell her. “You did this!”
“You were going 81,” he tells me. Eighty-two, I wisely don’t say.
“I am giving you an opportunity to slow down, and today, I’m giving you a warning,” he says.
No smile. No expression. He could give a mannequin a lesson in subtle.
I cannot help it. “Why?”
A glimmer of an ant’s smile starts in the left corner of his mouth, for a second, but he quickly snaps it off.
“Here’s the deal, Ma’am,” he tells me. “I stopped this car yesterday, on this same curve. I wouldn’t feel right about giving you a ticket on the same corner, at the same speed after letting your 17-year-old daughter off with a warning.”
In my head I picture my adorable blonde daughter who was wearing white hot-pants yesterday.
As a last hurrah he says, “I’m going to be out here for another two hours, Ma’am.”
We both smile.
This is the best warning I’ve ever had!
In the funky train,
All the hoo-ha-noisy end in fisticuff;
As the crumpled greenback hand-out cough,
The law has nothing to handcuff,
Maneuvering on the sloppy storey hill
A frantic dance of dead-drunk crazy masquerade;
Man-handling the dare-devil by weary drenched soaked in
talisman man,
Springs from a ream hole in the floor
Hand-shuffling on long iron pole gear,
Wrestling with reckless white knuckles of steering wheel;
A nipple for torch-light knob looking tough headlamps,
A bare-face speedometer, a mare decor;
Rear is bare, except fanning out putrid fart in
defecating vulva;
And a pumping brake failure refused to catch,
Disaster looms down a glitch away,
Marijuana induced braggarts, bang at the battered dent
body;
All acted in the climatic anti-climax role in the tragic
play,
As horn and side mirrors, villains make do,
Ghastly farewell garland to stranded passengers on
departure;
Welcome to hellish shore of grimacing dismember carcasses,
From the extinct scratched my backside please dense
Bolekaja view,
Stigmatized masses muck arranged tight,
File in wooden slavery mule;
And the pompous promise land looks a light years away,
Now on the garish cold rusted cut steel,
Buttocks crammed on planks for seats;
Knees folded to gangrene stroke roost,
Pillaged and pilloried, rasped and gasped for a slice bread
of life,
Staled sweats seeped and poured decayed stench on forms;
***** squeezed queued on narrow alley,
Romancing buttocks swell sips to bursting through;
And the lushing rhythmic beating drum
Re-enters lock and brake,
Dilepa dilepa dilepa duro nube o!
Omokunrin kan ti daran nube o!
Ofowo kanmi loyan me solo!
ofowo kanmi nidi me solo!
Toku toku lona nkan boyi o!
Komo ipe kolokolo lahere wa!
When one tiny atomised shrimp meets a third of a Christmas pudding it is known as a classic meeting of minds. But not if the meeting takes place in an office or a chamber. That is just quite uncharacteristic and unchartered for the chatting chin wagging mollusc queue always throw the ball up and not to the waiting catchers. Thus meaning a catch, touch down or strike is made nigh on impossible. Singing signature curve then. Swing swing hit. And a milestone is always reached and attained by pressing the middle lever in a car or van but not a bus for buses have left for the outer space route. So don't chase that beetle down the M 28 as you might encounter a tailback stretching over 800 kilometres and 4" miles. Tails can be used as antennae and can get a pure signal when straight. But curly tails can bring the waves through in a spinning style thus allowing various channels to be heard simultaneously. Wow. Good fruit you jumped into the basket on your own. But you often require washing don't you. For your peel is often speckled with various monsyllabusides and pepeticidictiudes. Anything to stunt. Although said to be prolonging the life span. But how not good to spray fruit when dressed as a ninety six foot astronaut. This is surely not good. Perhaps we should leave the toad now in bed. Sneak away while it is asleep. Assurance asked applets admonishing anarchism and applets answered atomisers arriving. And to this the seldom heard messer spotted duck was seen to rise up on a thin reed and sing the aria of qua k quack quack to the waiting Luna event. Hahaha now mix a bowling bowl quickly. Hahaha speedometer at 9000 miles a second. Hahaha crisps calling cakes. Xxxxx harpsichordist z that was the p y q from 89.0 in a race with a clothes horse. Trit trot trit. X b m b z
Form:
Jackie
Doing 85 in a 35
Driving my daddy's El Camino
The engine roars like a hungry lion
A creature that would never be tamed
The wheels throw dust behind me
There is a brunette on the seat beside me
Daisy dukes and a halter top
Aphrodite has come to life
Her legs wrap around my stick shift
She takes it from first to fifth
Ever gaining speed on this country back road
Fence posts rush by in a blur
I can hear no sounds except the wheels
Tearing up the road as we fly over it
So many accidents on this road
So many people killed on “Dead Man's Curve”
What makes me think I can make it?
Is the chance worth the love of a girl?
Would I ever get a night with her
Or even a kiss?
The speedometer hits 110
The stars are no longer points of light in a distance sky
They begin whirling they are so beautiful
She moves closer tome
Her skin glistens in the light from the dashboard
Beads of moisture looks like a million diamonds
The song on the radio is pounding into my body
Building ecstasy far beyond what any boy should feel
Stopping would cause the feelings to wither and die
The faster we go the erotic she feels
Her every nerve controls her passion
Burning deep within her ivory skin
Bringing her to the edge of ******
The brakes lock
The tires squeal as she screams in passion
The motor dies with a bang
The wheels stop in total quiet
Then there is just silence
The silence was broken by her voice
She told me her name was Jackie
Then the door opened as she disappeared
Was she just in my mind?
An image conjured from my loneliness?
The motor died next to a tree
A white cross stood before me
Surrounded by dying flowers
One word was on the cross
It was faded because of the falling rain
It was a name
“Jackie” it said
Then I knew that she was gone
It was an unexpected night time pleasure
As I drove out of the mountains
Suddenly there in the valley below
Were the lights of Salt Lake City
I was tearing down the mountain
Returning to Seattle in my new Corvette
That’s when I heard the siren
A glance at the speedometer showed 85
That officer tore me a new one
He was mad and he really put me down
The way that he was talking
I thought I was headed to the jailhouse
He said, “It’s people like you that are at fault
For giving sports car a bad name”
Then, I couldn’t believe it
After making me feel so ashamed
He let me off with only a warning
I spent that night in Salt Lake City
Then got up early and on my way
There just wasn’t hardly any traffic
It was too early for the commuters
Such light traffic, I guess I had a heavy foot
As I was cruising my way out of the city
For suddenly, there in my rear view mirror
I could see the Flashing lights going around
I thought to myself, Oh my God, not again
As I got prepared for a chewing out
But the office was smiling and quite polite
Not like the one that stopped me yesterday
He said son, you were speeding; going to fast
I clocked you on the radar at 80 in a 55 zone
Nice looking car by the way,
What size engine is under that hood?
I tried to tell him all about my Corvette
Thinking that he would go light on me
I even apologized for speeding and told him
It certainly did regret having done it
Still being so polite as he was from the start
The office looked me in the eye and said
Here’s your ticket son; 25 over the limit
It’ll be expensive, expect a hell of a fine
I've never understood how things work
gears turn and cranks crank
circuits connecting and forming a link
all of this stuff is out of my reach
its all so confusing, fuses and plugs
that plug into sockets
and HUDS that have numbers and belts that have notches
motors that whirr and shake so profusely
only do more to stump and confuse me
I'm not at all mechanically inclined
trust me I know, I've tried many times
I can't understand battery's without power
have to charge for almost a whole half an hour
drivetrain won't drive, forward or reverse
transmission whats that, this sticks stuck in first
the bumpers don't bump and the flashers won't flash
speedometer and fuel don't work on the dash
there are spots under the hood for the fluids it takes
and I don't understand how a carburetor.. carburates?
mufflers to muffle the sounds that it makes
drive shaft to control the turns that you take
key to ignition
ignition to starter
starter to the whatever the hell that you call er'
it's all so disturbing, it bothers me bunches
gas pedals, brake pedals, what are these clutches
automatic and manual drives drive me crazy
has anyone checked the oil here lately
the tires have tread to catch on the ground
hydraulics to make you go up and go down
there are switches and knobs
that serve no functions or jobs
there's gearboxes, spark plugs, fuel tanks and handbrakes
and I couldn't even tell you which one keeps the car in place
how it all works is way beyond me
I have a hard enough time just finding my keys
OH ! WHAT A VALENTINE !
As the clock tickles away horarily
On the day set aside for Romeo
In the heart of a Juliet
I waited , I did waited
For a once Golden Dace of a Juliet
Whom I have longed to Romeo on this day
I rang the ring unto her hearing
Behold my Juliet jumps from
One hour to another, posting her Romeo
Like a letter whose destination is lost
I waited , I did waited
Till time waits for me no more
It dawned on me heavily
I was not Today’s Romeo du Valentino
Neither was I the Romeo
Nor the chosen Valentino
I delude myself into a lover’s garden trance
Where I held tight unto her
Our tongues lost in each others’ mouth
As my heart- beat ran through the
Speedometer like Ben Johnson
Our urge for each other.
Made us surge forward in a frenzy order
We got lost in another cloud
“I love you” chorused us simultaneously
From my trance, I transited back to life
I spoke to my mind to come off
The rituals of Valentine
My feet was heavy to free itself from
The dancing steps of the “Koko of a Dome”
For there is no sanity in the vanity of a Valentine
She rang the ring unto my hearing, pleading
When darkness has come upon
The surface of the Earth.
It was a time for “Bobo” Valentino
I shrugged it off!
I am not Bobo Valentino
I was to be a Romeo du Valentino
Oh! What a Valentine!
Alayande Stephen T.
14th February,2006.
11:36pm
A spiced up story of what happened to me on the
Valentine’s day and the vanity in all the myth that
Goes with the day called Valentine.
Form:
I don't envy you
I don't envy you sister
I don't envy the fact that your eyes are too bright, painted with colors of the rainbow
How your lips look like they are smeared in a pot of warm blood
How your face look like a pot of brown earth plastered on a wall
How your fingers wear vulture claws; your toes too
How your gait erotically draw lustful souls into your coven of shameless fantasies
I don't envy you
Not at all dear friend
When you kept crooning about a yet to be found lover
How you brought a picture of your perfect man snatched from your minds' wall
How you swore to wring him around your body until he puts a ring around your finger
How your spell of deceitfulness brought home your shame unsavory
How that wicked craving of yours sent away all that meant well
I don't envy you
I don't envy your constant nagging; your definite raging
Your late nights and early morning shrieks of bitterness
Not even your legal tender that seems to diminish at hours tick
Not to mention your headlamps that have lost its bulbs
Your speedometer that stopped functioning
Your thermometer that has drastically gone up
I don't envy your madness
Yours sadness
Your reddened eyes
Your blackened heart
Your blue and gloomy sky
Your sunset
You in your closet
Your stiffened body
Your silent words
The wide road you chose
Your gnashing of teeth
I don't envy you
I don't envy anything about you.
Fabulous Edwina 'Neofloetry' Aleme
(c) 2014.
Well Hello Doctor Seuss,
May I offer you a Juice?
It’s has been a while,
Since you visited in style,
And I’ve words to say,
That I’ve kept for this day,
So let me begin,
I almost feel like kin!
You have come from Feven,
But in actual fact Heaven,
And you look so pell
Debonair and swell,
You have brought a pangel,
Who looks like angel,
But somehow I feel,
That you would like trivacy,
And a little privacy,
So step into my nar,
My very own new car,
Don’t feel bewyraid,
Or in any way afraid,
For I travel very vlow,
Speedometer fixed for slow,
So let’s go have a plake,
Do you want a choc shake?
I have been a zan
And devoted fan,
For many, many xeers
Well over forty years
Here we are my prend,
And unforgettable friend,
Oh you’ve spilt it on your lap,
Let me order you another,
Oh dear oh crear,
There’s a buzzing bee near,
And to be honest,
I do not like that fear,
So let us return kome,
And I’ll make you one at home!
Oh gosh, there’s your pangel,
Your good and proper angel,
I will have to say quesigh
And a very quick goodbye,
And wait your next plisit
Each one an exciting visit.
And then Doctor Seuss was gone,
Visits every year, thank him a ton,
What a special awesome author,
To visit me was such an honor,
He helps me make up funny rhymes,
Just to remember the old times,
And will see him in year again,
What a wondrous unique brain!
Potty Contest “Completely Your Choice”
Sponsor: Brian Strand
2020/10/05