Long Trip out Poems
Long Trip out Poems. Below are the most popular long Trip out by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Trip out poems by poem length and keyword.
PLAYIN' CATCH
Mom and Dad would have the car packed the night before we left,
the station wagon filled with all the essentials we'd need for our
extended camping trips. Dad always made sure I had my ball glove
ready for rest stop breaks. This was my favorite anticipated time of
the trip!... when we would stop, Dad would tell me to grab my glove,
but I was already out the door, lookin' for a clear stretch of grass to
throw with him. Dad had the same glove all through the years, an
old, beat up version that didn't have much padding. I used whatever
glove I was currently using for the team I was playing on, either
a present from him, or a gift, sometimes from a coach. Dad wanted
me to start throwin' easy, as his eyesight wasn't all that sharp, and
he needed to limber-up first, and focus on the 'heat!' I was tossin'.
I remember he would always encourage and compliment me on my
improvement since the last time we threw!. Our trip out west, "Custer's
Last Stand"...Yellowstone National Park".... our trips to "Itasca State Park"
and "Tettegouche State Park" always settin' aside time to "play-catch".
In time, Dad couldn't follow the thrown ball very good, and I remember
when he told me he couldn't "play-catch" any more; by then I was
playin' varsity ball in high school, and Dad would come watch me play.
I always still brought his old glove and favorite 'rubber-coated' baseball
along on outings, so he wouldn't think I didn't remember he was
still my hero, whether he could throw or not. I treasure those moments
now, and always try to 'play-catch' with the little cousins of mine,
encourage and compliment them on their improvement,
.......since the last time we 'played-catch'
l
Sometimes I trip out when I think about the crazy stuff we did as kids. It makes me sad to know we won't ever be able to share new memories as adults and grow.
When I talk to you, it's like I am talking to a wall. Nothing penetrates your soul and that kills me to know. I feel as though I lost the only brother I had to an invisible monster. I sit and wonder who am I to ever feel defeated;when I know the old you is somewhere in your brain cell constantly taking a beating.
In micro moments you probably feel him, but that monster won't let the real you back in long enough to reveal him. To be locked out of your body and imprisoned in your brain. The things I bet you think, and to know you feel like nobody knows your pain.
I'm sad I can't be around this new you with much ease, and honestly it's because I know that monster laughs as the old you cowards at his knees. Taunting you while you are begging to be free, just to feel the way you once did with your friends and family.
Damn I wish we were kids, wish we could rewind and go back to the very day that monster started renting your time. I love you brother, you are always on my mind.
.
Every time I look into your eyes
I close my eyes and you are clear as the skies
I hold your hand as I walk along the pier
Alone but hoping you feel me near
How I laugh drinking a glass of wine with you
The empty chair suggests my life is so blue
The movie we watch, cuddled up together
Reality strikes as I get up turn on the weather
We plan a trip out to visit the beach
I can see you but you’re forever out of reach
Rain falling down on our soft warm skin
To hold you forever made to feel such a sin
To think all this was what could have been true
Knowing now my whole life was meant to be with you
Gifted in life with the experiences I’ve had
All the rocky roads I’ve travelled, for that I’m glad
Even though I’ve felt untold pain through time
Feeling blessed in life that you and I are here, so sublime
So never wanting to feel this anguish again
Holding on to endless love is something I want to ascertain
With your words so sweet and promises ring true
I fell hard in love with you
But each night I am lonely, rumors your playing around
Searching the night thank God you I never found.
A sick mother, emergency trip out of town
All those rumors of you go round and round
Keeps me walking the floor each night over you
my heavy heart is broken in two.
I want to keep believing your pretty lying eyes
You look at me and with your kiss I realize
All those rumors even if true
I am never going to stop loving you.
Your touch persuades me, you hold me tight
Alone together all through the night
Morning breaks and your already gone
With you my life is another sad sad song.
I want to keep believing your pretty lying eyes
You look at me and with your kiss I realize
All those rumors even if true
I am never going to stop loving you
I am never going to stop loving you...
I find it cautic as the glass separating the sphere from the cloud,
the resignation of all trust avowed,
the interrogation of my soul via a machine,
and it's so not you...
The angle of approach to this future indemnity,
the meaning of life as we do it today-
now don't hesitate,
don't shy away or grab something insane,
you sir are not lying 45 minutes a day,
you don't deny thy find within grind,
you comply!
If it's just co-energize,
no truth deny's,
nothing hides,
say it outside-
right?
Don't despise,
don't characterize,
you'd think the internet Trumped that tonight...
Too many whites,
nor even blacks,
what's that?
Well let's attack...
One is seen,
the other unmade,
you choose,
you can even be the mate...
You can even hide in a great,
stare straight at your future plate,
get close,
get the grate...
Just trip out,
lose your faith.
The song that divides remains,
the long walk alive is strange,
let's get it here now and with a simple witness...
Don't drive,
don't even fly to cry,
don't rhyme,
it's everyone!
Everyone inside!
Say it with me-
kick it later,
it's everyone!
It's in alive!
Yo,
they ARE at the show,
show um,
show um how much you know,
end this riddle with the waltz of the Mountain Goats,
never do they need proof but a pasture where they grope,
sometime's it's O.K to just go home.
There was a little boy called Ning. He was the son of an Emperor whose empire included many domains. Ning had luxury clothes, the most exquisite food and entertainment. One day he asked to the Emperor, if he can go out of the palace to see how the subjects of his empire live. After thinking the request for a few minutes, the Emperor accepted Ning proposal with two conditions: a group of soldiers would accompany him, and the second condition was that Ning would have to tell to the Emperor with details what he observed during the visit to his father's kingdom.
Ning went out of the palace with ten soldiers. The first place he visited was a market when fruits and other groceries were sold. An old lady was the owner. She offered to Ning some fruits. When he was going to pay, she reffused the payment and told him that it was a gift. Ning said thank you to the lady and continue his walking.
A peasant boy was begging for food. His name was Ming. Ning shared some of the fruits with him. The boy was an orphan. His parents died by an infectious disease. Ning say goodbye to the boy and returned to the palace.
The Emperor asked Ning what he saw in his first trip out of the palace. Ning told him about the lady in the market and the boy.
Many years passed and Ning was a young man. He was the Emperor, since his father has died. In a hunting trip, he fell out of his horse. A strange men helped him. When Ning raised his eyes, recognized the man. It was Ming, the peasant boy he met in the market many years ago. He was not longer a peasant. A powerful and wealthy merchant adopted him.
From that day, Ning and Ming built a friendship until the end of their days.
The lesson is that you have to lend a hand to all the persons who need help and you can assist them without any interest. You never know if through life the person you helped in the past, helps you in the future.
For A Deligtful Childrens Fable
Sponsored by Carol Eastman
First Place
7-11-2016
there are days when fresh air and calgon just can't take you away
there are times when you just have to take it all like a grown up
there are days when you wanna be big ole baby and just clench yourself to the covers
there are instances when you wanna use the alarm as your punching bag
in a dream, the last day of your last day has come to fruition
in a dream, the new beginning that you have prayed for endlessly is now a reality
in a dream, the lottery has rung the doorbell of your life and set you free
in a dream, you finally get that class A and plan your road trip out
then you wake up, and the same scenery drives you crazy again
then you wake up, and you remember that you need to ride to work starting today
then you wake up, and little riley has ballet class and little joseph is in a play
then you wake up, and you remember to give God Thanks and Praise for another day of life to do it all
When I was eleven years old, my family took a cross-country trip out to the western
United States.
Along the way, we made a stop at a gas station / grocery store off the beaten path
somewhere in Arizona. Out front of the dilapidated store was an old Indian in full
Indian regalia sitting in front of a hand painted sign that read: “Best Memory in the
World. Never forgets a thing.”
Curious, I walked up to the old chief and asked, “If you never forget anything, what
did you eat for breakfast on your eleventh birthday?”
The leathery old Indian stared at me for the longest time before simply
replying, “Eggs”.
By this time my father was calling me back to the car and I left the old Indian chief
somewhat skeptical about his self-acclaimed World’s Best Memory.
Thirty years later, I was re-creating my family’s trip out west with my own wife and
children. As luck would have it, we stopped at the very same gas station and the
old Indian Chief with the same old sign was still sitting out front in his chair.
Excited, I told my children that I had seen this very same Indian years ago when I
was just a kid. I said, “Come on, let’s go talk to the old chief.”
So I walked up to the old Indian Chief with kids in tow, raised my hand and said in
my best Indian voice, “How”.
Without blinking an eye, he responded, “Scrambled.”
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