Long Trackers Poems
Long Trackers Poems. Below are the most popular long Trackers by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trackers poems by poem length and keyword.
Hey, never mind the hundred thousand folks
you'd have to keep for decades in the dark -
the sub-contractors, cleaners, office clerks.
Hey, never mind the billions such a hoax
would cost (to really go there works out cheaper!)
Don't give a thought to scammers, media whores,
and all those earnest, honest whistle-blowers,
who gagged to play heroic brother's-keepers
and get on Charlie Rose. Don't tax your wits
by wondering how a monumental lie
could hope to last, or even wonder why
someone would want to try it. Think of this.
In early summer, nineteen sixty-nine,
the Soviet Union hated Uncle Sam.
If there had been a smidgeon of a scam,
the Russians would have formed a clamoring line
of hackers, trackers, eggheads and the rest
to tell the waiting world, "it isn't so!
Our satellites confirm, they didn't go!"
But they said nothing. There's your acid test.
West Texas is a vast, wide-open area, dusty, windy, and dry. Many a time I hid the mostly unbranded calves I took from the herd on the XIT ranch behind the tumbleweeds that had built up in the small valleys across the open plains only the moonlight could see. I tried to move at night as much as I could because rustling cattle had become a dangerous occupation as I was finding out. Cattle barons had hired gunslingers and trackers to bring justice to outlaws like me and they were on my trail. Hoping the wind would erase my tracks I moved as many miles as I could, stopping only when water was found which wasn't often enough and the cattle, I stole were gettin' weak. I was halfway through New Mexico territory trying to get to the Magdalena cattle drive to sell my stock to wranglers I knew but I had to let the calves go and save myself. I could see four mounted cowboys on the mesa under the clear blue sky with me in their sight. I ditched all the weight I was carrying except the rifle and Colt on my hip as I headed into the Sawtooth mountains when a shot rang out. My horse, spooked by the noise reared up, throwin' me off onto the hard ground below as another shot rings out. I feel a burning sensation in my side as I get up to run for cover in a grove of gnarled trees' close by. Bleedin' from a gut shot, I know I won't recover as I hear the four cowboys drawing near. "Give it up boy, you aint goin' nowhere, this is the end of the line" the cowboy said. I replied "go to hell lawman!" as I fired from my Colt hittin' one of the riders. I tried to run further in the brush when I was struck again through the back. Mortally wounded, I thought about home and the woman I loved there. The cowboy on the black steed said "your rustlin' days are over son, anything you want to say?" "Give me a drink will Ya". The cowboy dismounted and handed me a bottle of whiskey, I pulled the cork with my teeth and took a swig. Handing the bottle back to him, it was getting hard to breathe as I said "grant me my dying', wish will Ya". "What is it boy" he said. With my last struggling breath, I said "bury me in Datil".
Brian The Veggie Lion
The trackers all dressed in their safari suits
Trekked over plains in their safari boots
In search of an animal that was called Brian
A statuesque beast in the shape of a lion
Skin prickling chills as they sensed he was near
But the park ranger said there was nothing to fear
For Brian the lion had delicate guts
He's now on a diet of pulses and nuts
No need to be scared, no need to be quiet
For Brian is now on a strict vegan diet
As they too were vegan and never ate meat
They made it their mission this lion to greet
For many a day they sought this strange lion
They knew he was close but they couldn't find Brian
At first they were wary that no-one was armed
But Brian was vegan, they wouldn't be harmed
Suddenly, stood there before them was Brian
A truly enormous, formidable lion
He padded around them on monstrous paws
Saliva was dribbling from slavering jaws
Brian then snarled, ‘We get few vegans here,
In fact you're the first I've encountered this year’
He grinned as he muttered, ‘I'm so pleased to meet you,
It's time for my lunch, I'll just have to eat you.’
The trackers all laughed and said, ‘Go on then, try it,
We know all about your strict vegan diet.’
Brian just growled and then got rather vicious
And later he slept...
Vegans... delicious!
Strong Bonds
Muddy river,
crystal clear,
and sometimes green as grass.
Grains of sand, hot on the pan,
Gifts of pine?, smell all you can…!
Cowboys, Indians, artists
and rodeo, powwows.
Towns gone,
now ghostly kept…
Mines, claim jumpers,
stagecoaches and poker players,
School teachers,
and the right to vote?
Mountain men…
Too many people,
and broken treaties.
Ever paving the way
toward the future…
of a highway.
Scoundrels and sheriffs,
preachers and train trackers,
carpetbaggers, and mayors…
purveyors of law, yet without order.
History remembers…,
Don’t let them forget.
Pioneers, robbers, and slaves,
built OUR country…
Heroes of a past,
we need more today,
than ever before.
Stand up men that put their life on the line.
Western hearts, that carried through time.
Horse and saddle, bronc and buster,
ride again into the sun!
“In God We Trust”
There will come a time
Maybe today, or tomorrow
Where a soldier of fortune
Will gloat in his sorrow
For his trackers and he
On a mission to tame
Will hunt him down
And leave him in maim
Through the wires of code
In binary bite
This soldier of fortune
Will, with all his might
Where will he start
It's for his prey to guess
When he knocks on his door
Instant distress
Before he is taken
A justice is served
For some times in this world
Some things are deserved
He is handed over to their FBI
In the land of the free, their justice he's tried
For if he was left, with the soldier of fortune
He would remember that day
His day of misfortune
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-4.php
If i could talk with Kelly.? What would the convo be.? About; the times he ranged the
Bush, shot his own game; and tuckered free.'
He was only young, a hero now.' Who handed back
Mortgage papers, he'd liberated WOW.' good
Action Ned, you did not just sling lead! And
There ' were also some lowlifes who wanted
You dead' I reckon what Ned would answer me.' Is i did, what I could with what I had the
Rest is history..Had a few more stood? We
Would have shattered the chains.' That held
Us under, I reckon thats pretty plain.' Do you like
A drop of whiskey..I'd have to offer him you see.? to
This free strong Aussie spirit, I'd say that he'd agree'
We both could take a shot.' And i would embrace the man, who rode really With his
Familiy, rode against an (evil gang) made up of
Some blackgaurds.. they called themselves
Victoria constabulary, they would oppress, and shoot
And hang; way;way too many.' Not the type who worked
For real peace, they hired cannibal black trackers, that said upon Ned should feast.' No wonder he was bushranging .' Much better than being eaten, after death.? Yet as we
Know he shot it out..Against a great mob of these scummy
Cops.' Ned you did your best, mate stay at rest
I raise a glass today.' I toast the memory of
Ned Kelly.' One more true hero, of a whole and hard country.!
We want to heal-
scab stealers wont allows us too
sneaking up on us-
giving us new busy work
side trackers –
killing us
the only hope we had left
invested in our progeny.
progenitors
Our children become our ancestors
Arrested -
Denied freedom.
assaulted,
Degrading us our offspring.
They make examples out of noble men.
Leaders not knowing what day will
be their personal doomsday while
They recite a healing prayer on balconies
Thinking “is this my end”.
"As they risk healing folks in large crowds with
un-trusted friends watching their backs
Let me get these words in As
We begin to heal from
the power of love.
These "scab thieves’ who snatch
scabs off the old wounds.
Create and open new wounds,
As they dare us to heal.
We fall to the ground.
as the targets keep
Dropping they
Kill the mighty to
Control the weak.
We are angry -No time to heal -
Angry People
Bopping ignorant
Pop ups- Bobble heads, popping up
like bobble heads at a carnival.
We needed the big black men-
who soon after that
Perplexed us
Who were they that stood
on Hunter street?
In front of Paschal Brothers
Over near "Don Clendenin’s"
surrendering
Waving White hankies
at tricks and enemies
We are bleeding now...
The scab makers are winning
where and from wince –
Do they come from?
or go to?
Wall Street or colleges-
White collar preppies-
promoting separate causes.
We still chant
Free Mandela
“we loved him too
They all were gone
to the grave or to prison.
Many wounds open
blood everywhere.
Perplexed.
Things fall apart again in...2013
2013 is here.
We are still with open wounds
Remember now wonder
can we heal if they?
keep re-opening our wounds.
My tolerance is no more for
nincompoops and
Poot—butts, chastising
Empresses and Kings.
Knowing nothing....
While pulling off scabs
Who am I, if I lose focus?
There will be no us-
So, I relent,
Leaving them where
they are - or at least
where I found them!
I really feel that until I die
I have a connection to someone’s
future I have wounds to heal.
I must remember-
“I cannot get angry for you”,
Lest I get stuck fighting your battle.
“I will get angry with you”
I will fight aside of you.
I miss the me before my hope was stolen in broad day light
Sadness impressed it's will on my mind
Making my mind sick
So, to all the kids "take your vitamins"
My mind doesn't feel like mines
I have a couple of time trackers that I try to race from time to time
Feeling like I just can't find the energy to simply live a normal life
My mind is often moving too fast for my body
I feel like a nobody when I'm around everybody
Knowing it's not true
Mind tricks have me thinking maybe my time is coming to an end
Telling myself you know that's not you
It's your shadow
The dark side trying to finish you
My shadow is my best friend that I never wanted to meet
A constant battle
I wish I could cut my shadow off
But I can't get rid of it without killing myself
You need the dark side, past, and future in order to grow
It may not be a part of the life you want to show
But the show must go on
And then I receive the count down
On in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...
Hello vengeance let's kill my depression
p.s. the shadows only cool me down now, I won't let the darkness take over...
Can we see all the evidence.? Is justice in residence? Under our glorious sun what dark deeds have been done.? We knew it
By the ( moniker lucky?) Which comes from lucifer.' It never before struck me.'
Now its rolling round inside of me.? Ned
Was a man who got pushed too far, and
The empires tentacles, reached out with fan-fare'
From South Africa, an inspector came and
A mass of Vic troopers, cannibal black trackers, and the papers smeared his name, that was in 1889.! Its quite simple and plain.' 2026 now, Dezi you killed too ( no body cameras worn?) So we are
Told.' Hey you coppers is that real true? Is it
Dinkum? Or just stinkin.? Whats emmenating from your heap.? Are there any real ( lawful coppers.?) Active.
? Maybe
They have resigned, or perhaps they're
Paid to sleep.? Yet let me raise the issue;
Of a battler.' ( known as Biff ) who has
had
A past of law-less-ness.' Yet has turned
around , and willingly gives, out his feats,
just a man of
Benalla where i'd once go to watch the flicks
Turned ( journalist ) you-tuber..in Vic the
Bloke still lives? So he did a minor
tresspass.! at the place where that
(rat-sell.!) Went down, to inform the
general public, about any freaky
actions? And what have we found.? That he's being taken to court..And its rumoured he'll face
A judge he has known for years.? The same judge Dezi was taking to court.!
Yes looks like ( predjudice to my eyes )
And it tolls, also dirge-like in my ears..So
Thats the type of system, in Victoria at least, yet the states are all connected mates.' Its the nature of the beast.! A shame before the world so wide, just corruption and cover-ups on all sides
Cause Biffs legal team (
has left him folks!!) Just like that..As
with Tommy Cooper's
Catch-phrase..( which led onto many jokes.')
Yes that is the absurd reality, so I wish Biff all the best ( and a full public gallery')
May you-tubers, swarm into the joint'
And God in justice the verdict fully annoint.)
Great country rich, land of my birth, that cradled my childhood and taught me of
Worth.'
Land of struggles, and dreamtime lore.'
A country of invention, and of weathers raw.'
Do we have an easy history.? I must answer no.' I owe us; that much at the
least.'
In my mix of emotions, i shall try to so'
Well, to put a relief of our history in this
I'll tell.'
Of a crowns avairice, of some humans in
Chains, others free agents who came to
Make gain'
They came to Australia..with expectations
And dreams, some of great horror' they did
Create scenes.'
Then there were the existing, the Aboriginal
Mobs, living for millenia with their corroberee councils..
Hunters and trackers, survivalists and they paid their costs, leaving newborn infants, in
The open to die.' If the extra life would be too much? This was a part of their bush lives; to oft..
Then there were the guvenors, and officers of the crown, instructed to tame the country.'
With their own views.' As they built the settlements, and kept their convicts
Down.'
There were lashings and hangings, And genocide too.' All tasmanian Native
Peoples wiped out..Its quite true.'the decades advanced..
( The boomerang factor )
From the past collision of cultures, a new country was emerging..Herb Elliot was to become a champion, Lionel Rose Evonne Goolagong,
Shane Gould..We were really flying.'
In the 1960s and 1970s there was an atmosphere of change and hope.' A wish
To be more unified, and a regret.' I tell
No jokes.. I ask all Aussies can we
Go back.? And fix the wrongs we did not
Do.'
Or do we move forward on Australia day.'
And all the days that follow too.? Can we
Be free of trauma.? Yet refer to lessons past.? I advise resume in the ' true blue spirit ' and give the world a blast.' Avoid the
Forigen influencers who want to rake dead
Coals..' Only to enslave us all..!!! Now
get up' be your best; be really bold.!!!