Long Visor Poems

Long Visor Poems. Below are the most popular long Visor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Visor poems by poem length and keyword.


Trust a Stranger

You're walking out the front entrance 
Leaving work behind you 
Forgetting the hustle of the day 
Looking forward to a quite drink 

Chilling out 
In your 
Soft 
Comfy 
Favourite 
Chair 

Staring into an open fire 
Being carried away with the beat of the music 
When all of a sudden 
You're startled 

By the thundering crackling 
Sound from the exhaust 
Of a oversized shinny motor bike 

A leather cladded rider dismounts
Blocking your path 
As you stand stunned & glued to the spot 
The rider comes up to your face 
Through a tinted visor on a black helmet 
You hear a soft gentle familiar voice saying

Put this on and let's go 
All your fears flash in front of you 
But your censors say your safe 
You allow this gentle giant 
To carefully place the open face helmet over your head 
Slowly secure it under your chin 
Hands you some wrap around sun glasses
Without a word 

The rider shows you how to 
Comfortably mount a bike 
Indicates you to wait until he is on 
Gives you the nod
As you mount the bike 

Cuddle into the rider 
looking over his right shoulder 
Smelling & feeling the leather on your bare skin 
As you clasp your hands together 
Around the stomach of the rider 

The bike starts 
Startled by the noise you jump 
And thrusted back as we take off 

Slowly through the main street 
Slow down even more for the school zone 
Swerving 
Swaying 
Dodging 
In and out 
Of the afternoon traffic 

Leaving the bottle neck behind 
With the confusion and worry 
Hitting the open road 
Winding the throttle wide open 

The purring of the pipes 
Echoing off on coming cars 
The thumping of the motor 
Rising up through the seat 

The wind caressing your face 
As we brake hard and throw 
The bike down into a left hand lean 
Around the corner in one motion 
Pick the bike up and throw down 
Into a right hand corner 

Dancing 
Up 
Down 
And around 

Up the hill onto the flat 
Surrounded trees 
The afternoon sun strobing through the trees 

Behind the trees 
In the paddocks 
Prancing 
Dancing 
Meres and foals

Back into town 
Where I stop at your place 
I dismount 
Extend my hand to help you off 
Lovingly remove your helmet 
Tie it on the sissy bar 
Jump on the bike 

With a crack from the pipes 
The engine roars 
Burning the tar with my back tyre 
Leaving you standing in the cutter

Dumbfounded 
Bewildered 
Tingling 
Laughing and smiling
Form: Prose


My Life In Sevens - Part Three

I am twenty-one.
It’s a hot, summer day in 1963.
I’m in Lubbock, Texas, at Reese Air Force Base
And I’m climbing the ladder into a supersonic T-38 jet.
The parachute strapped to my back is cumbersome.
I can feel the sweat running down my legs.
Settling into the ejection seat, I strap myself in,
Attach my G-suit to its umbilical cord,
Connect my oxygen mask, microphone and headphones
To their nearby connections.
I am exhilarated as the plane and I are becoming one.
Yet, I am the master and it will faithfully follow my commands.
I start through my lengthy checklist,
And as I power up each engine,
I feel my supersonic rocket ship coming to life.
The engines’ whine reverberates through my headphones
As the instrument panel comes alive
And the myriad of needles jump and stabilize in unison.
I signal the plane captain to remove the chocks.
He salutes me and I smartly respond.
A gentle nudge of the two throttles starts us on our way.
I close the canopy and turn on the air conditioning.
A cold mist blows out of the vents.
I take my mask off and smell it to make sure it’s not smoke.
It never is.
I pull down my helmet’s visor
And tune the radio to the ground control channel.
My headphones come alive with air traffic chatter.
I can see other T-38’s in the distance taking off and landing,
Gracefully, like giant storks swooping down to earth
And then back up again.
I eagerly await my chance to join the flock
As I feel in complete synergy with my exquisite flying machine.
Now it’s my turn as I pull onto the runway. 
I press down hard on the brakes
As I push the throttles forward
And check my engines’ instruments
For the thousandth time.
I focus on the centerline ahead of me
As I release the brakes
And push the throttles into full afterburner.
I feel them rather than hear them
As they explode behind me 
Leaving a trail of angry, red hot flames.
Their force pushes me back into my seat
As I accelerate down the runway like a dragster.
I pull back on the stick and feel the wheels leave the ground.
We’re airborne!
Gear up, flaps up, as the ground quickly recedes beneath us.
I point the nose upwards and we head to thirty-thousand feet.
My rocket ship and I are happy.
I am smiling.
Life is good.

Collab Series 7 Bill's Side Richard Pickett Shogun Series

Cont…”Bill Jump in my car it’s closer!”  Bill was just a step behind Brick as they hurdled 
over the tape barrier and raced to Brick’s car.
     “You got it pardner! Don’t stop or I’ll be in your hip pocket!  Brick got 
to the driver’s door first and Bill had all he could do to get in and slam the door as Brick 
swerved into the traffic, got the siren blaring with the blue lights bubbling off the hard top.  
The tires squealed hell bent for rubber for about three seconds down Walters Ave before 
they pulled a u-turn and headed one eighty out.  “Sorry ‘bout that, Brick hollered, “I caught 
a glimpse of the perp jumping off the side rail and headed back in this direction!”
     “Okay thanks for the warning!", Bill yelled back as he hoisted himself up the seat with 
the strap handle while trying to scan for the outlaw.
About that time, Brick swerved around a trash truck, jumped a median and throttled it up 
another street.

     “Say Brick, I’ve been meaning to ask you..you got a driver’s license or a 
 facsimile thereof?!”  “Huh?  What the hell’s a license?!  Hey I think he crossed over into that 
alley behind Stogey’s”,  Brick yelled as he spun the steering wheel hard
bobbing and crunching the car over another median and power skidding the swerving squad 
car back on course.  Bill had all he could do to keep his head from smashing into the 
headliner above the visor.

“Smooth, Brick! Smooth!  You been practicing eh?!  Sorry about my head denting
Your roof!” he quipped while searching the streets for the fugitive.
      “Hey no problem he yelled over the roaring engine and skidding tires, you can fix
It later!… I’m nice like that!”

“Is that the alley up ahead, Brick?”
“Yeah that’s it!”  “Lemme off here and I’ll cover this end of it!”
“Right! I’ll spin around the other end and we”ll put the squeeze on him!”  Brick 
Screeched to an almost stop as Bill scrambled out, un shouldered his 9mm and
ducked inside a doorway.  He peeked around the corner to see Brick already
veering around the corner all sirens and blinking lights…(to be cont…)
Form: Narrative

People Watching

Old man, blank faced, gray, balding, bent back, 
suspenders holding up loose pants, a half filled 
plastic grocery bag hanging from one hand, a 
wooden cane companion in the other, limps his 
way slowly from the grocery store out to the
 parking lot …towards his parked car.
     People rushing, back and forth from cars to 
store pushing filled and empty carts, using cell 
phones, talking, gesturing, texting, hurrying past
 him with abandon .
     Another balding old man about the same age,
 bulging middle, red faced, huffing, crooked visor cap, 
chrome cane in hand, head bent low, limps along 
slowly from… his car to the store. 
     People rushing back and forth from cars to store
 pushing filled and empty carts using cell phones, 
talking, gesturing, texting, hurrying past him with 
abandon,
      When both men reach a crossing point in their 
opposing paths, they stop in mid step, slowly look 
up and give each other the once over. As if on cue
 they look around themselves at this parking lot full 
of hustling, busy actors going about their important 
affairs in so much of a hurry. .then turn and look back 
into each other’s faces..…
     One breaks into a smile that begins to brighten 
his weathered face and then the other gent breaks 
into a smile of his own to share. From within their 
aging shells both spirits break out with child like,
 hearty laughter while shaking their heads. They
 continue on their journey limping away from each 
other without a word, the smiles still embedded in 
their brightened faces.
     I too find myself smiling as I watch the scene
 from my open car window while eating my lunch 
as people are rushing back and forth from cars to
 store pushing filled and empty carts, using cell 
phones, talking, gesturing, texting, hurrying past 
with abandon. 
     It’s time. I have to make a call 
and hurry back to work now….

Golden Arrow

On the high seas the clipper moves yearning with storms force
Parting away the waves splashing magic in lashing waters blue
Medusas token head on the fore beam to forswear deep ill omen  
Seeking to capture devil she pirate with her dubloons on the seas. 

In the stillness wind captured sails bloom to follow a full moon  
Shearing through the misty night cascading sheets well braced
As timbers creak; the sail ship cuts through like a knife to slide,
Float’s flip flop on the sea tides, like a dolphins mate in waters.   

Course aligned to merge and cross with these amazons wild.
The lantern burns near the helmsman tackling bolstered rolls.
Throwing shadows on the quarterdeck the compass stabilizes
Locked direction mapped intersecting to image point mark.

Morning thrills bloom with Ship Ahoy ‘The Golden Arrow’
We heel as sails get shorted with cannon run out commands
Taken by surprise the ‘Golden Arrow’ struggles to free sails
The Sun behind us we close in to side ram the single Decker.

Plunder broadside, armed men to board, our lines hold fast.
Their canons fire at random as our armor booms together
Causing destruction our men board the surrendering ship    
Ruthless pirates we take prisoners alive of the she brigade.	

Sword in hand I move for the Pirate commander running 
Under the decks ready to fence her breast plates breathe
She toils to nick my side as I throw her visor a elbow hit.
Arm pit grips her sword hand, she squirms in her struggle.

Sea green eyes muffled by the blonde tresses unraveled
Outraged succumbed by her exposure, cries for amnesty    
Fearful lest I take her to be my pet slave for endless toil
‘ceptin’ ye’r  m’e L’rd  N’ ms’ter,  ch’o Eatin’ N’o K’ll. 

Behind my protective head gear I smile in loves glee.
She trembles drops her sword, no more can she flee.



O’ = of
Th’=the
Eatin’=eating
© Jai Garg  Create an image from this poem.


Night Life

As the beams in departure
darkness, they crawl slowly
taking charge and ready to rule
that surrounded shell above all
slouching in their aging gray
fresh again after sloughing its light
as plants in shift of their breath
and creatures, they creep in gloominess
in veil, another reality begins
As shadows of loneliness dwells
face of fear they show up
In eyes the lazy bell rings
most fading, lost in dreams
The innocent souls, all lay in rest
and troubles laid beneath blankets
silence kissing gently over ears
when saga of half-life
once again opening its doors


the back of dark awakes in vigor
and legs of selfishness in motion
together in hands of rebellious pleasure
a cyclone stirs up inside them
revolving around in claws of injustice
all searching out in desperation
in numerous, they swarm around
carrying a glaring visage in glee
a pernicious tar overruns them
and eyes getting blinded by a smoky visor
evils break through in boisterous force
shillings and dimes they roll
drenched in aphrodisiac, submerged in high jinks
indulged in satire, heads go haywire
imbibed in flood and drowned in insanity
manhood lost in that reign of terror
and humanity slaughtered along roadside
when homeless becoming preys
to their heinous hedonism

the smell of kill engulfs the gloom
along with sound of horror playing its notes
blood they shatter portrait of death
virtues washed away in alcoholic virulence
victims in dismay, they float
to those opened cavity laying generously
the song of drunkards in background
following the screaming souls to graveyard
and we again in defenseless sleeps
awaiting that forenoon, unaware of those perils
but this tyrannical existence expanding
the shadow of once again apocalypse.
Form:

Distance Leads To Temptation

Lord, lead me not into temptation
Away you, I'm not sure, teach me not 
This exercise in longing, I will forget
Your verse of homelessness, as your son 
Illuminate the distance between me, and you 
Forgive me, your garden trespassed, don't
Exile me out into forlorn space again
Heaven and satellites are your art

Here on my moon far from the sun, you 
Lead me to that lonesome capsule, back
Where a stained spacesuit hides me, listen
To the hissing suit sweet-talking me, I go
Wearing that damned suit, pull down the visor
To cover my face from your rays, head
To my own sea of tranquility alone
On the dark side of the moon, far

From your reach, I’ll own my kingdom
From your moondust, build a sand castle of sin 
On the rim of an unholy crater, I’ll declare 
Independence from your colonial rule
I’ll put on this old suit of debauchery again
Until you strip your prodigal child, attempting 
A break from orbit, telling me I have all I need
For a moonshot closing the distance

Deliver me from a solitary capsule, lifeless 
On the cold lunar surface, temptation lives
Stay my evil hand that turns the airlock
Watch me float out the hatch from afar, hiss
Your gravity too heavy to bear, God, watch 
Me bounce to the dark side of the moon 
Though here comes the sun again, coax
Me a sinner unbaptized by midnight

Each revolution, you test my faith 
Turn not distance to despair, rather 
Instill the space between, patience
Turn not my freedom to anarchy, but
Faith in tethered orbits, closer
Turn not my soul into a cancer, hungry
Temptations eating a moon misled
Thy will be undone away from you

Premium Member Confounded - S,Jagathsimhan Nair

CONFOUNDED    ( COLLABORATION )


by~ S.Jagathsimhan Nair

When tension grips and the head reels
In its ever accelerated twirl
When two rays dangle from two flayed poles,
And the dumb loss of a moment’s truth
Looks so conspicuous and an eminently
Forgettable lapse of an inoffensive world
When the gentle genre to which the slamming
Of an ever open door in the face of
The rare perspicacity and purpose shown
By a soul, a land and a generation belongs
Looks so commonplace; when the benign
Visitor’s countenance does indeed despair
And crave a black visor above the originality
Of its expansiveness and the staggering degradation
Of its vitality; I have this great ache’s abundance
Stirring in my cupped palms, held out in supplication,
Till it rests, for an ever lasting understanding
Ever in the vision, ever into its aftermath.


by~ p.d.

The "aftermath" of any loss seems to consist in any form.
An aster plea subsiding every look.
Behind glory behind redemption~ 
Giving rest to the velocity speeding force
Creations of fantasy and religion and imagination
I paint the skies with my fingertips, to feel the mass
The world trembles at the knowledge of relativity.
"I sit in displeasure, injecting every generation into my veins!"
New born babies, born into this puzzled abyss. 
Bewildered minds accepting stupendous addictions.
A poison to taste every sunrise, 
Forbidden tongues baffle the night 
Mental representation, stirring up conflict 
Foiled toes to hold and worship.
Steady vision behind these eyes so confounded.


a collaboration with* S,Jagathsimhan Nair

my collaboration contest

Confounded

Confounded

                  -1-
When tension grips and the head reels
In its ever accelerated twirl
When two rays dangle from two flayed poles,
And the dumb loss of a moment’s truth
Looks so conspicuous and an eminently
Forgettable lapse of an inoffensive world
When the gentle genre to which the slamming 
Of an ever open door in the face of 
The rare perspicacity and purpose shown
By a soul, a land and a generation belongs
Looks so commonplace; when the benign
Visitor’s countenance does indeed despair
And crave a black visor above the originality
Of its expansiveness and the staggering degradation 
Of its vitality; I have this great ache’s abundance
Stirring in my cupped palms, held out in supplication,
Till it rests, for an ever lasting understanding
Ever in the vision, ever into its aftermath.
                                     -2-
And when an hour’s trial and a moment’s  judgement
Bide time in the halls of eternity
I get this call upon me to my concept’s elucidation
And this urge to its sound espousal
But in a brief and breathless pass upon a syllable
When I catch the trail left of a wayward home coming
I find eunuchs elucidating emancipation’s final flowering
In its lone path of glory.
And for once I lose my heart, I lose my sensibilities
The stupendous reversal of a progression of faith
Finally does catch up with me
Annulling this reckless gambler’s momentary wins
But who is now going to pay up its hefty price
And take home the horrid truth.



By: S.Jagathsimhan Nair
17 May 12
For: Elliott Bowe's" Drunken pen"

I Am the Stig

I race around this track
To make the fastest lap
In powered muscle cars
You bet, I’m driving that
Wearing a fibre glassed rig
And a white cat suit
You can call me the stig 
The fastest thing on route




You’ve never seen my face
It’s covered that's a shame
I’m always in disguise
My black tinted visor hides
The thrill upon my face
My big blue sparkling eyes
Full of this excitement
The element of surprize




Its super cars and silly stuff
Fast and furious driving tuff
I’m the stig and I’m in my mig
And I’ll snap your time like a twig




I think you’ve seen my show
The stars that come and go
Competing with each other
Round the track they must flow
To set a perfect time
Beat their rivals cross the line
To test their driving skills and
Do their best behind the wheels




Burning rubber at the start
Oh' my heart pounding fast
This adrenalin rushing through
I’m the stig, I’m super cool
Wheels spinning from the line
Tyres’ smoking, it’s a crime
Drifting around these corners
Sliding like skies on waters




Its super cars and silly stuff
Adventurous fun, sometimes tough
I love a challenge, don’t call my bluff
Cuz’ I’m the stig and I do my stuff



I've made a name for myself
Topgear, Topman
In Warsaw Poland do I stand
And yes I'm very well renown
Thirty foot high from the ground
I'm dressed up all in white
With my crash helmet on
I'm just out of sight


©Copyright KC.Leake
25th November 2014
All Rights Reserved
Form: Rhyme

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Reflection on the Important Things

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter