Long Vans Poems
Long Vans Poems. Below are the most popular long Vans by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Vans poems by poem length and keyword.
See them gather around you, observing everything that you do, see them on top of the tree, listening to your heart beat and measuring your speech.
See them sitting underneath the tree talking about your destiny, The wire is running around you and a pudding pan is sitting next to the door and the sharks are slowly creeping up on the shore.
Look out for the bulldozer and the practicing medical doctor; he has a clinic across the street, an office in the basement and a house rising towards the heavens.
He spends his time in the corner bar and on Sunday’s he cuts the lawn; he has a house keeper and a butler and a young man to play the violin when his emotions grow dim. He is an artist and a practicing physician.He plays golf on Monday morning and sees his parents in the evenings; he is a jack of all trade but a master of none.
See them driving around the town in big vans and luxury cars giving handouts to pigs and goats and a box cutter wheeling at vendors' throat.
I can see them from afar walking around the garage searching in the corners, throwing out tries and lubricated oil. Old rusty muffler piling upon muffler and old radiators spilling corrosive water. They are testing the old cars with a wrench and a screw driver and an artificial bulldozer.
See them standing around the back wearing old pants and old frocks, spreading out on the floor and knocking on doors. More than a hundred of them standing at attention walking around in the back yard looking for a brawl and the pigeons kept flying around the tree moving straw from the wild berries.
Then came in the big birds flirting in the tree top, with thunderous voice screaming at each other. They are dropping pebbles, walnuts, almond and cherries on the ground and the beggars are gathering around the town. What strange phenomena lurking around, grumbling in the background.
See them going up in the air, you can see them everywhere, gas balloon surveying the moon and the high priest floating in the sky recording everything they hear.
See them gathering in the street making rhythm with their feet, the ring camera is running around and Santa clause is coming to town. See them looking at you from the window.
end the beginning
End the beginning
we are tired of your nurture
and puncture
the table tennis should turn
the other way round
Its my turn to service
I have not yet served a deuce
yet my bat is already wearing out
Your bat is carrying an inscription
coded I can't " C " i can't decipher
where did you get that bat from?
You are dressed in an awful robe
that not supposed to be the Jersey
The referees are seated there
whistle in their mouth
they see you are playing on me
brutal unfairly but there are not blowing
End the beginning of this game
the ball we are using
are now all eaten up
your bat with that other inscription
coded again another place " V " has punctured
then only your bat can carry and service them
End the beginning quickly
now!!!
you have been cheating on me
the game is becoming too long
than I expected
but why is the referee keeping silence
he did since being talking
The kits your are putting on,
the vest at the back is inscribed
~~~~~19~~`~~``~~~~~~~~
are all borrowed they look strange
may be borrowed from
the " Space"
I have not seen this type before
did the association not see you
did the referees not see at the
beginning of the play before
letting you into the fields of the game?
pls tell me where was your entrance?tell
or better still
I don't want to know any entrance
You came from anymore
just get an exit
The canvas you are putting on have
thorn beneath
and the grass you are standing on
are all worn out
no player will ever stand there
to play again
End the beginning
and go, even the spectators
are tired some are bar headed
the stadium is on stampede
some falling
some are fainting
sirens every where
motor vans bearing red light
on their heads screaming
see what you have done
you have brought
pressure every where
non is watching the game anymore!!!
Its no fun anymore!!!
its not a fair play!!!
End the beginning of this game
and go and let my people go exo 4:23
" I look into your eyes deeply the silhouette to shadows the light highlights. I see the love there is Love In Your eyes. I come closer to you being embrace we hug feel the sensation the nature of love touch. I hold your hands to face to face I witness your breathing. I feel your pulse the warmness of your touch, feel the love as I whisper in your ear. You acknowledge that you to hear the words of God. Ever so sincere and as our chest rise up and down we found that her body's intertwined. And I realize to the breath of our nostrils are beating Hearts the blood flowing are Vans is sweat coming from the pores of our skin we realize we're, in love"
11/30/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Tear gas policies and hate
Will never make America great
Again
Tear gas policies and hate
Will never make America great
Changing Defense to War,
Claiming to stop foreign wars,
Won’t win any peace prizes—
Just more of what the world despises.
Black helicopters and unmarked vans
Enforcing edicts across our lands;
Masks and rubber bullet diplomacy
Shouldn’t become our normalcy.
Secret police with unlawful powers,
Brutal enforcement ordered by cowards;
The rule of law squandered and subverted
To serve personal vengeance perverted.
Our Constitution tattered and torn
Needs her defenders all bravely sworn
To stand shoulder to shoulder and hold back the night:
This is our moment, our duty, our fight!
Tear gas policies and hate
Will never make America great
Again
Tear gas policies and hate
Will never make America great
I’m from small town homes and rose bushes overgrown, with
Close-but-not-too-close-close-knit-crazies.
Where my best friend lives down the block and I make late night trips to her house past the town curfew, because I am from just inside the city limits.
Where I can’t drive underage in a non-road-legal vehicle on the road but I do it anyways.
From hydrangeas to big dead oaks with darkened limbs and forgotten branches. Unattended to hidden ponds with sand dunes keeping close company. Winding trails through the woven pines and golf cart rides through the night.
From two tracking at 2am, to popped tires riding on rims all the way home.
Bruised up and down and scratches I don’t know how I got.
I’m from sunday night football with crockpot cheesy potatoes
to rolling blackouts and chasing charter vans down flat onto our bottoms.
Muddy heels to get to the dance and paying seven dollars to watch my hometown football team lose.
I’m from where smoking our meat and video games in the garage is a party but we are the only company we need.
From corny jokes inside and out and witty humor, none taken. From where insulting one another is nothing but love and curfews are often a thing of the past.
Descending from lovejoys I am often filled with both love and joy,
I’m from oddballs and country folk yet we have evolved.
I’m from soccer games even when it’s raining. From no quitting all the way to you tried your best.
From high- highs and even lower lows.
I’m from the land of schnitzel, pickled beer, and pizza. From ‘go play outside’ and ‘walk it off.’ Nuts and bolts for christmas snacks to ‘honor thy mother and father.’ Sunday school lullabies and don’t use his name in vain, following all the common Godly precautions.
I’m from waking up early just to see the sunrise even though the trees are a war barricade from the burning fire you long to see. I’m from the fog that made my acres of yard an abyss that I can’t see through, even though I know what’s there.
I’m from family trips and a loving home, missing it when I’m gone and hating it when I’m there. I’m from supportive love and ‘can’t isn’t a word’. I’m from you can do anything if you work hard enough, and whether you think you can, or think you can’t, you’re right.
"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and
can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words"
~ CS Lewis
If ever I don't know your name
recall these words that I now write:
no season ever stays the same -
fall yields to winter, day to night.
If ever I forget your face -
though hard to fathom now, dear child,
I ask you to recall the days
we walked on trails through canyons wild.
Those nights we camped under the stars
and filled our lungs with mountain air,
the trips we took in vans or cars
while singing songs from here to there.
Remember beach days, Sunday hikes,
or at the lake shore skipping stones,
those Saturdays we rode our bikes
for donuts or for ice cream cones.
I hope you won't become too sad
nor let my absence cast a pall,
for I will always be your dad
I pray our good times you'll recall.
Now go and make new memories -
in moving on, you play your part.
Sing soft our favorite melodies,
I'll sing along deep in your heart.
written 25 June 2022
Hammers, Slammers, Polly Pockets, My Little Pony, and Pogs
Back when my big sister collected frogs
Hello Kitty, Kerokeroppi, Badtz Maru
I'm bringing the 80's back to you
American Dolls, Cabbage Patch Kids, Kareoke Machines
These were the 80's toys - back when they were a thing
Saying: Rad, Dude, Far-Out, Cool, As If, and Hang Loose
D.A.R.E. to keep kids off drugs - at every participating school
Stupid fabricated lies about pot commercials (or weed)
To virtually f--k up our Stoner's Scene
Crazy-Daisies, Slip•N•Slides, Ferris Wheels, Graviton and carnival rides at fairs
Neon non-permanent colored hairspray in your hair
Nickle Nickle Arcades, Gigantic Pickles, Big Sticks
Froot•By•The•Foot, Pixie Sticks, Fun Dip, and Big League Chew
The Ice Cream Man, Vans, and butterfly kisses that children knew
Catching and trapping beach crabs in the sand
Basketball Hoops, A.Y.S.O. Soccer, Atari, Super Mario Man - and even more
Tinker•Toys, Sock 'em Bop 'em Robots, VHS, and burning CD's
With your Legos sprawled all across your grandmother's floor
No wireless phones and no Internet
Just wired landlines, dial-up, and pink butterfly nets
Mud pies, cigarette gum -
Back when being a child was fun
Bop•It and Twister, Monopoly, Game of Life, Mousetrap, Sorry, and Candyland
We can't forget Operation, Don't Break The Ice, Jenga -
And to remember to always play nice
Magic the Gathering, and Dungeons & Dragons - with dice
I miss these days - now that they are all gone ---
How many other kids had to come home
The moment those street lights came on?
My cold not quite over –
With sniffles and cough –
I had a commitment
I couldn’t blow off.
The thought of the subway,
Its rush-hour crush,
Was turning my insides,
Congested, to mush.
But then I remembered,
A few blocks away,
Commuter vans idled
Each morning, each day.
And so I inquired –
How much? Was there room?
I paid and was welcomed,
Or so I assume.
In 15 short minutes
I made it downtown,
Preventing my usual
Subway ride frown.
For just 7 bucks
I could sit and relax
With no getting-stuck-underground
Panic attacks.
I don’t commute daily
But next time I must,
I’ll splurge on the van –
Let my wallet adjust!
COPING WITH TRAUMATIC INJURY AND PTSD MARRIED TO A VETERAN BEING THREATENED BY ILLEGAL JAMAICAN IMMIGRANT IDENTITY FRAUD MY STALKER ACTUALLY WAS IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY ABUSIVE EX HUSBAND AFTER ARRIVING WITH A GUNMAN TO END MY LIFE SHE BECAME OBSESSED WITH MY AMERICAN POETRY WITH MY IDENTITY MY GOD I SUFFERED IN SILENCE AFRAID OF MY SHADOW HOW BLESSED I WAS TO MEET MY SOUL MATE A VIETNAM VETERAN WE BOTH HAD SO MUCH IN COMMON WE FOUND A BEAUTIFUL CONNECTION FOR LOVE THROUGH OUR ILLNESSES THIS CAME WITH MY STALKER RAGE ENVY SHE ACTUALLY BELIEVED SHE COULD IMPERSONATE ME BY FALSIFYING DOCUMENTS ONCE I SAW A POLICE CAPTAIN ARRESTED FOR FALSIFYING DOCUMENTS AT THE VA MY HUSBAND AND I FEARED OUR LIVES WHAT WILL HAPPEN IS THESE IDENTITY THIEVES HACK INTO HIS BURIAL GOVERMENT LIFE WE PAID INTO SINCE OUR MARRIAGE 2016 WE FEARED ABUSE OF POWER HELPING MY IMPOSTER STEAL MY IDENTITY IMPERSONATE A VETERANS WIFE THROUGH GODS GRACE MY HUSBAND AND I REMAINED STEADFAST BRAVE COURAGEOUS ALL ARMY STRONG WE RECIEVED THE DATA BREACHES INFORMATION HOW TO KEEP OUR IDENTITIES SAFE FRAUD ALERTS AS THIEVES BROKE INTO OUR HOME MY STALKER SEATED WITH CIRO GARGANO BOTH OBSESSED WITH MY HUSBANDS VETERANS IDENTITY MY HUSBAND AND I WERE BOTH IN CRISIS HOW TO COPE WITH SUCH A VIOLATION TO ATTEMPT TO STEAL A VETERANS BURIAL BENEFITS SHOCKING FACED WITH A CRIME BOSS HIS JAMAICAN ILLEGAL IMMIGRANT TALIBAN IDENTITY FRAUD PERPUTRATING FRAUD AGAINST A VETERAN AND HIS DISABLED WIFE I THANK GOD FOR CRISIS TEAM SUPPORT GROUPS WITH ICE VANS TEAR GAS I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND WHY THEY TAKE THESE ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS DOWN THEY ARE HACKING INTO GOVERMENT OFFICES HACKING INTO VETERANS AND THEIR FAMILIES I WILL NEVER STOP SPEAKING OUT AGAINST THE ABUSE OF POWER THAT THREATENED MY VETERAN AND I WITH IDENTITY FRAUD INTIMADATION BLYING HOME INVASIONS FRAUD FRAUD FRAUD ABUSE OF POWER AT IT'S HIGHIEST POLK COUNTY HAINE CITY POLICE CAPTAIN HURTING VETERANS AND THIER FAMILIES I FEARED FOR MY LIFE AND MY VETERAN SPOUSE WE ARE BOTH DISABLED AMERICANS VERY VULNERABLE TO IDENTITY FRAUD I AM PRAYING THAT ICE SENDS HER BACK TO HER COUNTRY SO MY VETERAN AND I COULD LIVE IN THE REAL PEACE WE DESERVE IN AMERICA
GOD BLESS THE CRISIS TEAM ALWAYS OPEN
WRITTEN BY MRS. YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN
Currently the security profit programs is hesitant
Sista bad ways the masters degree premonition holder has eliquented us inside of the never growing fortress of people's passed economic struggles as mimes
Yet the obstructioni zing doth not permit a permit
Ye of vittles portion lacks the fortitude of good days in labor
Between Camarillo livibility lengths and Newbury Park rotations as the same
None may improvith stations whilst sista bad feelings goes into debt full idea administration worry
It was autumn
Before the round
Something shivered
Tools wasn't full
Vans change, tools out strange the work
All damseled
In respite
Shane apprehension grovel
Lost beside his print
Finding his father's name
April, too new city managers
Yorks and shires bereaved
I wasn't your only father's rent
The war counted on better rays
Rates add fits
In byes gondolas say
To write wrongs
Haven't worried sensibly
The round became my leaving board
A pond as his mother's springs
She sheltered little in life
Deathly burden to me
Manhattan Surrender my moons light