Long Trip Poems
Long Trip Poems. Below are the most popular long Trip by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trip poems by poem length and keyword.
Jordan was born with mild Cerebral Palsy,
But took part in the 2012 Paras at just 16,
Because he was born on 12th of October,
1996, and Rio was is second Paralympics.
“Even if you don’t like school, I would [def]
encourage everyone to take part [and] enjoy
sport, be it badminton, swimming, athletics
…ask others…don’t be shy, just go for it.”
Jordan made the London Paralympic finals,
But he remembers the Swansea Europeans
With great pride, because his birthplace is
Cardiff, even tho’ he trains at Loughborough.
In 2014 in Swansea he won a shining bronze,
For both his sprints - he runs in the T35 class.
In the 100 and 200 he did pride by speeding,
To the line by much strength, determination.
He says about sacrifices “I have a 300-mile
round trip from home in Cardiff to my training
camp at Loughborough twice a week, so
again, that takes some determination.” Fixity.
He feared he’d miss out on Rio’s Paralympics,
Because his groin hurt him so much, exercising,
Such that he thought he’d have to miss, bypass
The Euros in July in Italy, the entrance to Rio.
But a doctor at Nuffield Health’s Vale Hospital
Inserted a nylon mesh in Jordan’s week groin,
To reinforce it, but it is a partially dissolvable
Mesh so that he doesn’t feel it when running.
Jordan won two more bronzes in Grosseto,
In Italy in his skills, the 100 and 200 metres,
And so competed in Rio de Janeiro gallantly,
But sadly did not strike gold to top the charts.
Loving life hid beneath rim of cool ceramic bowl
Tree frog claimed proud place, toilet's homely hole
Enamoured by his simple palace making stance
I bend to peer at his green grip toe stick, entranced
My ordinary admonished by gaze from onxyx eyes
Quick reflex and instinct, skills by which Frog relies
Shine of black marble smartness lures me nearer
Knowing even with my bulk, I'm somehow inferior
Rubber eyelid winks, peels open again enlarged
Eye wrinkles droop to hammock, I'm encouraged
To nestle within humid folds, shrunk human glued
Oscillated in his lid lures languishing duly procured
Spun suddenly, rubbery cocoon cosy lurches erratic
Some worry occurs I'll drown outside skin hammock
Prior to paranoia taking over, thrown from dizzying ride
Launched into stark big bowl with steep slippery sides
Swim in cistern spew strangely renders me cleansed
Lap in lurid blue sends me to inevitably to S bends
Whooshed and flushed with refreshed perspective
Dark harassed by diffused hues tug seductive
Dolphin derived, my smooth unphased by spiralling
Saturated zones, ease honed, enamour never tiring
Snorkel hole snorts water, puffs readily on its purification
Imbibing combines giddy with clarity, senses' temptation
My forehead flicked flirtatiously by wide flamingo flippers
Splayed feathers fan surface, showcase dance floor shimmer
Cabaret her costume, shakes crystal bead rainbow release
Ravishing precise pirouettes prim pink princess completes
Her curved beak caresses my porthole brain, rubs insistantly
Into warm walnut shell weapon I'm swallowed quite quickly
I spy through pomegranate seed eye, mirror lake unswayed
Stilled kindly by wind's nonexistance, decision to travel made
Climbed to bird's tiny tiara topped crest, covered in feathers
Graceful lace tu- tu floats my aquatic future endeavour
Bouyed weightless and grateful, flip draws no resistance
Swim in S bend treasure, trip of sight resumed brilliance
*** Spring has sprung!!
- in Australia
My branch beyond
The tired pond
of Earth, awakes
Imminent Heaven
(perhaps)
*** A collapse of facts
Flight of flamingo regalia
Revel in place of waste
- Mystery flush takes
on its S bend
1st September 2020
Amidst AGGRAVATION of sin-game schemes, I appeal to the Almighty…
Beseeching His pardon for my transgression-caused BOGGLE
Cleaving to His compassion with mercy’s CATCH PHRASE
Declaring earnestly “I’m SORRY; please forgive me”
Enabled with repentance, not religious TABOO, to confess humbly.
Free to pray thru Jesus Christ, never by any CODE NAMES
Gladly I fellowship with Him, purged from guilt’s TROUBLE
Hoisted toward praise-driven heights beyond PHASE 10…
I LIKEWISE delight communing with Him thru His Word
Jubilantly HEARING THINGS of His truth in joyous worship.
King of my heart, He can SPOT IT it among iniquities and doubts
Lord of my life, He leads me against vain TRIVIAL PURSUIT
Maneuvering me by His omniscient holy MONOPOLY
Nurturing my spirit with His serenity, midst din of MAD GAB
Opening to me opportunities for love-filled service OPERATION.
Propelled to ask from my Provider thru faith’s PASSWORD
Quoting Scriptures of assurance-SEQUENCE, I tell Him my needs
Reaching out to me, He rescues me from discontentment’s RISK
Satisfying me with blessings’ SPOONS that SPEAK OUT abundance
Testifying of rich grace for my TRIP TO RIDE to eternal sufficiency.
Unwavering omnipotence my Saviour radiates in PERFECTION
Victory, too, vanquishing Devil’s MOUSE TRAP of attractive CLUE
Worthy is His wisdom waking my weary CRANIUM to work well
X-raying my spirituality against iniquity SCRABBLE thru the Holy Ghost
Yielded to Christ I know and trust vis-à-vis varied GUESS WHO masters...
Zealously, I’ll run the race*, winning for God's glory over worldly bouts of 5 SECOND RULE.
*Hebrews 12:1-2 “…Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.”
February 19, 2019
1st place, "Anyone Game?" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Carol Connell; judged on 3/15/2019.
The roads I never followed
In the crossroads each of the paths stare at me
One directly leads to success
No lessons learned of hardships to overcome
The other curls and winds around the dense forest
Rocks cover the path and bushes hug the air
Yet the others cry darkly
My feet throw me toward the barricaded road
Thorns tear my skin and rocks trip my steps
While the other goes straight, it is full of fake things
That road I never followed shines brightly through the wooded path I endure
If I were to walk down the meaningless path it would kill me
But now I am running through my clouded visions
Running for my future beyond this road
And running away from who I was
What do you do when you're upset
When life is upside down it seems
When everything that you now get
Flies in the face of all your dreams
Now nothing wants to go your way
When life is upside down it seems
Will you give up when skies are gray
Or work to see your rainbows gleam
I know this road has many seams
That try to trip us up in life
When life is upside down it seems
There is so much toil and strife
At times it seems this life's not fair
You think you're on the losing team
But don't give up and don't despair
When life is up side down it seems
I've pushed and shoved my way
to the front of the field trip line
for I desperately desire to go
to the Fancy Foot Factory!
I have dreamed about this day for
like forever, so desirous am I to
trade in these freakishly funny looking feet
for smooth, svelte, sophisticated
small and oh so dainty feet
with the most admirable, manicured
toenails on the planet.
From the first moment I became
aware of my frightfully large
phalanges (I even recall playing
with my long toes as a kid)
and comparing them with other
normal kid's feet, I felt like
a female hobbit (fortunately, my
feet aren't hairy!)
They say the Fancy Foot Factory will guarantee
their foot replacement work, so I can feel
fancy and fashionable
for the right fee, of course!
One question, though. Do they come
with a lifetime supply of stylish sandals?
Written on 3/16/2017
I never even drove till I was maybe twenty-five,
but then I learned, and so we bought a car for me to drive.
For fifteen hundred dollars, I got a crap sports car
with color kind of pink. That Monza never got me far!
Its brand I think was obsolete; I can't recall its look.
All that I recall was all my money that it took.
About a month I had it till our whole small family
used that car to take a Christmas trip out of the city.
So headed for the south we left, and yet we had no clue. . . .
Not even halfway out of our own state, the engine blew.
We had to pay to tow it home, and I cannot recall
If we later took our truck to make that trip at all!
Fixing it was not worthwhile. The engine block was shot.
Thanks to that, I got a blue Camaro, used but HOT!
And so the life of my first car, once I got it home,
was just about as lengthy as the lines of this short poem.
For Paula Swanson's "Driving Me Crazy" Contest
Have you ever wondered about all the things that require your signature in life
How about a marriage certificate, I now pronounce you man and wife
A steady hand is needed as you buy your first home
If a writer's cramp occurs with so many places to sign, you are not alone
The car of your dreams you are about to drive off the lot
Or maybe the insurance for that car you just bought
Your passport for an upcoming dream trip you are about to take
The officer speeding ticket for moving too fast, oh for heaven's sake
Your birth certificate your parents sign to prove you are alive
Your driver's license after you show you know how to drive
The only thing I would like to sign is a big check from the lottery I just won
One more stroke of the pen and my work day will be done
Not sure if this would be consider taboo
To even mention the view
Did I just hear her say the word touche
When the doctor proceeded to do what she had to do
With stage crew and camara in hand
Filming what little dignity I have left
Are the tapes rolling, I may need consoling
When this crazy trip finds somewhere to land
Do I even need to mention the day before
Pills and laxatives by the score
To clean out my innards must be least 10 pounds thinner
Need I say anything anymore
Back to the uncomfortable crowd
You can hear a pin drop at the sound
For them it's routine, for me a dastardly deed
Could someone please send in the clowns
Adding a touch of savoir faire
Excuse me, is there enough room in there
If things get a bit tight make sure the pliers are sanitize
Anyone up for a game of truth or dare
Doesn't get anymore personal than this
Best friends now without even a kiss
Operation at 7 film at 11
To be viewed YouTube via Internet
#sayitisntso #didhejustgothere #doyouhavenodignity
Just had my Colonoscopy this morning...nothing like a good follow up poem!
The bus is half-full, empty seats are occupied
by the soon to be born, the soon to be dead,
those in transition.
The medium knows he is a guest in a stranger’s dream.
When he thinks about this, he shivers and turns
to the window, lets himself be distracted
by the dusty fields, the wind cranking farms.
A bespectacled matron moans
as the knit of her life slowly unravels.
Eighty years dead; white mice
have been born and have passed away in her head.
A travelling salesman yet to be conceived
stares about him, thinking he is in a movie.
People speak a language he does not understand -
there are no subtitles for his state of mind
however, his future occupation has already been seeded
within the mixology of an ancient starlight.
The medium wishes he were more accustomed
to the slow process of astral dissolution
and regeneration.
Passengers cling to the long straps of their minds
as the Greyhound sways.
Some occupants dream
that they have a real ticket for this life,
others may have purchased a ticket,
but not a destination;
they fidget in their seats,
and wonder why the trip is taking so long.