Long Two lane Poems
Long Two lane Poems. Below are the most popular long Two lane by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Two lane poems by poem length and keyword.
Picture this. It is a gorgeous summer day.
The grass is green, the birds are singing.
You are a fifteen-year-old boy
whose parents have gone on vacation.
Your uncle is coming to watch you in three hours.
Until then you are on your own, and you remember that
your Dad’s new triple black Dodge Truck is in the garage
Just waiting…
You have a driver’s permit, right?
Who is going to know if you have an adult or not?
You are just going to take it around the block.
That was fast. How about around the neighborhood?
What about just limiting yourself to a half hour?
Who is to know?
A three-lane road has suddenly turned into a two-lane road.
You are going too fast to stop.
There is room to maybe slide the truck in between the red and black car.
You do not quite make it, scratching a BMW and a Camaro.
Sideswiping both. Your heart is beating fast. You pull over.
Waiting…
In your rear view mirror you watch a tall policeman in full uniform
unfold himself from new Cherry Metallic Camaro.
Damn! You fun the truck and take off again, scared to death.
Your dad, mom and uncle are all three going to kill you
if that policeman doesn’t.
You sit in the house for two hours, making up excuses.
There is a knock on the door.
You are fifteen, and you do not have a license.
You sit without breathing as your heart beats in your throat.
“POLICE!”
Will they break down the door?
You slide behind the couch and pull a blanket over your body.
Just waiting…
~
Winter breathes in sepia tones along a lonely two lane street
divided amongst the sweeping frozen dunes
now forced into shouldered amnesty
Street lights shiver in snowcapped bonnets
while sidewalks sleep ‘neath blankets of flittering flakes
The air, frigidly crisp…moves of tiny chiffon sparkles dancing
Rooftops, plump and soft, show off their frosted padding
as evergreens find alabaster fingers tickling their branches
in chilled teasings and frozen dustings
Footprints, once there are gone, covered and recovered again
all evidence of life is erased beneath pearl clouded skies
and faint outlines of distant thoughts
White on black stripes drape in glacial wanderings
spanning the slush of asphalt weavings
in straight line piercings across the wintry landscape
January reigns brutal, subzero ponderings swirl
from high above the icebox wasteland, once brimming with color
now opaque in its arctic seasoned disguise…
~
Written from memory…no winter here. : )
Hurricane
By Edmund Siejka
There were warnings of a hurricane
People had been through this before
They knew what to do
Why some of the houses on the water were worth over a million dollars
They would ride it out.
The hurricane came ashore and slowly marched inland
South of Merrick Road
Cold grimy
Water was everywhere
Sewage and fuel coated lawns
Soldiers patrolled areas hardest hit
Boats were strewed in streets and yards
Neighborhoods sat empty for weeks
And politicians worried about their future.
Spray painted signs warned
“You loot
We shoot”
Heat and electricity were luxuries
Cash was a valuable commodity
Most people were patient
Some were not
But no one seemed to care.
Families returned to their neighborhoods
Tired, cold, and hungry
Water logged furniture lined the streets
Making two lane roads impossible
The only ones to show up
Were utility workers from out of State.
We don’t respect nature
We build where we shouldn’t
We pollute when we should know better
We use up resources like there’s no tomorrow
And then we’re surprised when nature hits back and reminds us that she is after all
…….Mother Nature.
SHE'S NEVER COMING HOME
On a two lane Nevada back road
The morning painting up the dawn
She met up with Eternity
And he bribed her gypsy soul
She wouldn't leave a road untraveled
couldn't leave a dream unturned
Risk was just tuition for a lesson to be learned
With youth as her insurance
A tender heart as her passport
Sights unseen her religion
Lives she touched it's reward.
She's never comin home.
Fate demanded payment before showing her the route
So she paid the toll her most precious gift
Her life that hadn't bared it's fruit.
Death handed her a road map
He pointed toward the stars.
The breeze rustled her angel wings
And she thanked him with a smile
His face twisted in confusion
He thought he made a righteous deal
It was her that reaped the profit
Nirvana now revealed
She laughed at death
I got a bargin because nothing ever ends
There's only new beginnings
And a chance to make new friends
She's never coming home.
She whispered papi don't you worry
Sweet mama please don't grieve
There is just someplace else where I need to be
She embraced her pirate spirit
And turned her sails into the wind
Then set off on a journey
Another place she's never been
Highway niney five Nevada milepost thirteen
At sunrise if you listen close
You can hear her sing
Live your dreams
You've got to leave your dreams.
She's never coming home.
I can remember it like it was yesterday.....
Listening to a hard rock "all-night" radio station,
boppin' back from college to my hometown in the middle
of the night, on an endless two-lane highway, in the middle of nowhere.
Up around the curve, my headlights engulfed a scene I'll never forget.......
What looked like three or four cars (to this day I'm not sure) smashed, crumpled
and twisted in burning smoke, completely blocking the road.....
Slamming on my brakes, I skidded to a stop, trying to process what I was witnessing,
I pulled up a few feet closer in my car and unrolled my window....
Burnt shredded metal filled my nostrils with the scent of death, and not a sound......
The silence terrified me...... I started to get out of my car........
Then, from the bowels of the horror, a voice whispered to me "don't stop! go for help"
Numb, I got back in my car..... that's when the wreck of cars parted, and a path was created
to pass through! I drove to the next exit and had the clerk call 911, giving them
directions to
the crash......I drove on into the night, fumbling for a radio station.
_____________________________
A black sportscar driven by a new driver
Mistakes a two-lane road for a three-lane road
The driver of the car zooms in between two other cars
They both pull off, shaken
One of the drivers is an off-duty police officer.
He goes to the other driver to see if he is okay.
The men discuss what happened.
Did you get a good look at the driver?
Neither of them can describe him
Maybe he was young?
I think he had a red cap.
Before the police officer leaves
The fifteen-year-old girl asks, “Did you want his license plate number?”
Until this moment she had been excluded from the manly conversation.
Last Chance,
I passed through you many times and remember you.
You sit on the Colorado Prairie east of Denver at the intersection of two, two lane highways.
In the 1880's you were a stop along the great Texas Montana Cattle Trail.
You really came into your own as a child of the post war Forty's and Fifty's automobile boom.
The say you once were a lively little town made up of gas stations, motels, cafes, a general store, two churches and several homes.
Word has it, you got your name because you were the last chance for travelers to get gas,
food and lodging on their long treks to Denver and Kansas.
In summer, travelers picked cold Cokes, Pepsis and Grape NeHi's out of your gas stations' iced filled soda chests.
In winter, hot steaming coffee flowed from the silver urns of your cafes.
It was Fords, Plymouths, and Chevrolets that created you,
and it was Interstate Highway 70 that bypassed and doomed you
to whither and slowly die.
A prairie fire in 2012 caused by the sparks of a tire blowout finished you off.
Today you are a ghost town of burnt out hulks, abandoned buildings
and distant memoires.
Oh, Last Chance.
The stories you could tell.
I have the need to feel free
like I've got nothing to lose,
I just want to get into my
blue convertible and cruise.
I'm growing tired and bored
of this same old abode,
I want to go much further
than just down the road.
I ease my dark sunglasses
down over my brown eyes,
as the summer evening sun
begins setting low in the skies.
My hand grips the steering wheel
and my foot holds the throttle,
as my lips take a long drink
from a cold Coca-Cola bottle.
I reach over and tune my radio
to my favorite rock station,
now I feel like driving through
every state in this nation.
I won't know where I'm going
until I finally get there,
All that I want to do is enjoy
the wind blowing in my hair.
I hold my hand out the window
to feel the air through my fingers,
I wish that I could always be
where the free spirit lingers.
Around the endless curves
my car disappears into shade,
far away in the distance
my bright red tail-lights fade.
I pass by rows of green trees
and a thousand birds on a wire,
the sky blazes a yellow-orange
as if the clouds were on fire.
I could not imagine anything
better to end this perfect day,
than an amazing view of sunset
out on this lonesome highway.
The air is becoming cooler
as the day blurs into night,
I feel so awake and alive
in the sun's fading light.
I keep traveling on down
this lonely two-lane road,
I drive into the sunset
and forget my old abode.
May 8th, 2014
A white wash of striated clouds
stretch expansively
across the arid desert sky
where Joshua trees commune
lifting up crooked cactus-like arms
towards the searing sun.
Massive layers of brown boulders
jut, forming endless sculptures
hidden places where the ancients
made their penitence with words
swept away by unforgiving winds.
Shadows shift under the arc of the sun
where nervous roadrunners dart
startled lizards seek shade
great hawks circle with outstretched wings
and tortoises amble as the hours crawl by.
Two lane highways trail into the horizon
toward snow capped mountain peaks
lined by nameless telephone poles
and tumbleweeds that roll aimlessly
across storefronts and sleepy
rundown towns in disrepair.
Yet the mystique of the Mojave plains
still remains an inviting oasis
of refreshment and contemplation
where time stands still
beneath the stillness
of the midnight stars.
12/5/2022
Do you know why bus rules are important?
We stop for school buses as they’re slowing.
Their yellow lights indicate take caution.
When red, the lights mean kids you may see going.
They might be going on the bus or off.
On two-lane roads, whether you are front or rear,
you have to stop, and the reason is
kids out of anywhere might appear.
Children can be hard sometimes to spot.
Around big yellow buses, please take care.
What of those on lanes that number three or more?
Those coming from the rear then must be aware.
Buses have been built for children’s safety.
They’re energy-absorbing, did you know??
Both economically and environmentally!
School buses for our kids are the greatest way to go.