Long Tractor Poems
Long Tractor Poems. Below are the most popular long Tractor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tractor poems by poem length and keyword.
Blinded by the light
Riding my bike in the middle of the night
Pity my plight
I ran over the foot of a runner in the night
I admitted my flaw, but then we both saw
a UFO with 2 diplomats
the runner he said "oy"
And in a ploy to annoy
A tractor beam pulled my bike and our hats.
They said "we come from a planet, our queen's name is Janet
and she's taken a fancy to you
It's quite an honor, we all fawn upon her
She'll add you to the national zoo!"
I said "are you crazy
My future may be hazy
But I don't want to be in a cage
Sorry to upset you and sorry that I met you
But I hope you turn the page"
They said to reconsider, not to be bitter
At the fate in store for me
On this earth life is worse, seems like it's got a curse
Any sane species would agree.
I asked to bring my sister, because I'd really miss her
And 500 video games I had found.
They said, "that's fine, just sign the dotted line."
And they lifted me off of the ground
Revved up like a disco in Woke San Francisco
A tractor beam is a thrill-seeker dream
Then I felt dread, because they said
I'd be injected in a scientist scheme.
Suddenly I came too on Willow Avenue
and realized I'd fallen off my bike
I saw stars in my head, wanted to go to bed
Must have looked quite a sight
Then there came a cop car and it gave me quite a jar
and the runner was in a bad mood
I said I didn't mean it, I just hadn't seen it
But the guy had attitude
He drew back his fist, and I thought he had missed
but I was:
Blinded by the light....
On a lovely day brake
I was driving car towards the office
Absolutely absent mind
Non stop working hours
Force me to turn on music.
Suddenly I listened
The strange awkward sound
Driver of tractor was blowing horn
Fast and irregular way
That made me nervous.
But what I wanted to watch
To make anybody happy
A little innocent careless puppy
Was enjoying his day brake
On the right middle of that road.
Tractor's driver was blowing horn
Again and again to wake him sleep
Neither responded nor moved
Perhaps the happiest moment
He was enjoying there himself.
The driver stopped the tractor in anger
Got off from his seat
To make me nervous
Beyond my doubts he lifted it up
Stroked hand on his back
Make both them happy and relax.
Do love and have love
A true gentlemen's aim for life
Our eyes stopped at each other
Export- import of smiles to say thanks
Dealing of smiling is good for goodness.
First motion is practiced at sunrise
With devout courage and humble strength,
Unobserved, unguided, and alone.
First motion glides over the accent.
Some say swan dive, some jack-knifed tractor trailer,
Balanced graceful as a feather on the sharp edge of a sword.
First motion goes down with a karma chaser.
Repeat until you leave with empty pockets.
First motion isn’t drunk, just happy-go-lucky.
First motion is taken as given,
Today, and the day after today, and tomorrow.
Having so prepared, one is ever poised to face battle.
As Prince Arjuna knows, this world is no place for pussies.
An unsophisticated feller attending an auction could find himself in a pickle!
The nuances, subtleties and gestures used in bidding could cost him a pretty nickel!
A city feller decided to attend a farm auction to see what it was all about.
Alas, he accumulated a heap of needless stuff before he could figure it out!
He was fascinated by the tractor, manure spreader, horses, hogs and cows,
And the chickens, goats, manure forks and hay to be auctioned in the mows!
The auctioneer began his alien spiel and the feller couldn't understand a word,
But farmers in overalls and John Deere caps knew exactly what they heard!
Bidding began on an old steel-wheeled 1925 Model D over-used John Deere.
The feller watched others offer their bids as he reached to scratch his ear.
The auctioneer yelled, "SOLD to the man scratchin' his ear over by the fence!"
He was the stunned owner of a tractor - it happened so fast he didn't have a chance!
Next up for bid were a fancy chamber pot, two horse collars and fifty feet of hose.
The feller in all innocence swatted at a pesky fly that had landed on his nose!
The auctioneer yelled, "SOLD to the guy who swatted his nose for fifty dollars!
Son, you got a steal! That's an antique thunder mug and so is them there collars!"
The auctioneer opened bidding for twenty bales of newly cut alfalfa hay.
The feller was distracted for a moment and waved at a pal across the way.
"SOLD" said the auctioneer, "Please write a check for this stuff to my able aide!"
The hapless guy was wondering how he'd explain to his spouse the purchases he'd made!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
You know a tractor is not a toy
Not a play thing for a little boy
But when cradled in its seat
Life became for me a treat
Behind its wheel I learned to drive
Found happiness in being alive
Released her clutch without a lurch
My world had fullness from that perch
But these are the tales of a day gone by
I remember them sometimes with a sigh
The days grow duller with the passage of time
But these are the memories that make life rhyme
I’ve gained knowledge from scholars face to face
Benefited from their degrees and grace
I gained wisdom on an H Farmall
From an old man in bib overalls.
I have traveled this country far and wide
I have crossed the ocean to the other side
But some of the finest things I ever saw
Were on the farm, with the H, and my Papaw.
Shotgun shells, fireworks, an empty casing,
Burnt gunpowder sensed with imagined smell,
Bring a smile as the mind begins onward racing,
Of times past and grand stories to retell,
Hunts to remember; 4th of Julys raising hell.
Even the repugnant is remembered with glee,
Fresh swine manure upon beds of loose straw,
Time on the farm, a boy’s life lived carefree,
Fishing, hunting, and building with grandpa,
Learning gun safety and how to hammer and saw.
A favorite to this day is corn cut fresh,
Dust in the air with stalked rows piled,
Behind the red tractor and an 8 row thresh.
Memories overflow of that innocent child
Of the fun that was had, a boy in the wild.
I have received a lot of unexpected sad news from friends lately
- But this shocked me -
I came home from town and my neighbor with her younger daughter approached me
She asked, did you hear? I said what?
She told me her husband died in a tractor trailer accident!
As I was responding, her daughter suddenly started hugging me and would not let go!
I kept hugging her tightly and kept talking as my mind tried to absorb the shocking news
A heavy sadness consumed me
I told them I know what loss is like and gave all the positive advice and support I could
For some reason the world seemed small
Just the 3 of us standing there as pain lingered in the air
- God Bless Them -
Heidi Sands
3/7/26
(C)opyright
quivering wildflowers waltz in meadows
alder leaves shimmer like wings of flying teal
cattails sway as breezes along the river slows
dandelions dreaming of a red rose surreal.
alder leaves shimmer like wings of flying teal
rusting old tractor by the broken tree swing
dandelions dreaming of a red rose surreal,
as fireworks in the valley dance and sing.
rusting old tractor by the broken tree swing
cattails sway as breezes along the river slows
as fireworks in the valley dance and sing
quivering wildflowers waltz in meadows.
2/6/2021
Proud Pantoum Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Reflection in a Phial
I look at my hands they are brown as a farmer`s, this pleases me,
although, I have no land to plough, a tractor or a mule,
a workman`s sturdy hand; all socialists should have hands that
have harvested potatoes or carrots.
I flex my muscles of my upper arms, see a faint movement
like a mouse moving under thawing spring snow.
Glorious vanity I used to do hundred press- ups, a day in the hope
to look strong and furious. I think of sex sadly I wasn`t any good
at it, after the act, I looked for a book to read.
The squalid side of life has always mystified me, why does
a person chooses a path that leads moral disgrace and ruin?
I have always been lazy, strenuous effort will not touch me,
but I would like to pull up a few more carrots
I was sittin' on the porch today reminiscin' about this and that,
And my hometown came to mind where I grew up as a feckless brat!
Life was lived at a slower pace it seemed, back in that place and time.
We didn't smoke grass but stealin' watermelons was a common crime!
The senior prom was held in the school gym and didn't cost a bunch.
There was no McDonalds so you had to eat at Marty's Diner for lunch.
Imagine! You danced cheek-to-cheek to a romantic Miller refrain,
And there were no computers - you actually had to use your brain!
The girls in your class were OK, but you preferred gals in that other town!
You raced about town in your Ford and with the cops became quite renown!
Guys kept shotguns in their jalopies to go rabbit huntin' right after school.
You took pleasure in datin' your pal's ex-girl friend, thinkin' you were so cool!
You could usually find who you were lookin' for at the dairy bar or pool hall.
You pushed a reel-type lawn mower when you'd rather be playin' basketball.
Everyone gathered downtown on Saturday nights for a movie or just to hang out.
Boys started drivin' their dad's John Deere tractor at age ten or thereabout.
If you walked somewhere, people would stop to see if you needed a ride.
Should you be the last kid chosen for a game, that really hurt your pride!
Boys wore 'butch' haircuts and girls sported ponytails and saddle shoes.
When I recall those carefree days I get a touch of the melancholy blues!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved