Long Wheelie Poems
Long Wheelie Poems. Below are the most popular long Wheelie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Wheelie poems by poem length and keyword.
R andom radicals rush rip-roariously on ward
O nerously oggling on-lookers abroad
A nnealing axle-grease atop ankle-high boots
D eliberately dashing dilettante seekers
T raveling tenaciously toward tree-lined detours
R oad rage roars, racers recline, rear-wheels wheelie
I mprobable instances intoxicate incalculable intensity
Probably, they'd get there alive!?
S irens sound
E mptiness emanates extravehicular extemes
N ickle-plated, nonentities now
D eath, death, dangles
I nsanities inane inference
N ickle-plated, nonentities now
G one.
Contest:GROOVE IT ! Free Poetry Contest Details
Style: Heavy Metal
Date:10/9/13 revised
Poet: Debbie Guzzi
6/1/22
Been in a chokehold
This world can be so cold
Lucky if you can grow old
Often things shook up like a snow globe
Do you know what it's like to have no home?
On the population a government spies, they do or don't probe
Experienced firsthand, unable to document on a GoPro
What's up with the dodos
And all these bozos
For the protection of me and Toto
I'm packing a fo-fo
Always keeping an eye out for po-po
They put out another bolo
I often ride around solo
And pop a rolo
Since it's yolo
I can't settle for so-so
I need it all by the boatload
It's all not a joke yo
The last thing I need to do is drink and smoke mo
It's a no go
Cut the crap and quit it with the low blows
Unless you want me to slit your throat slow
Since I'm dangerous like Oso
I've got no fomo
it if any folks know
I'm falling for no hoe
For the longest time, it was just me and Jojo
From here to Kyoto
The proof is there not just in the form of photo
Did a wheelie
Always ed up for really
Sometimes off a pilly
Yo what's the dilly
Why've you been acting silly
Misunderstood they'll never feel me
Can't stop myself from overdoing it with what can kill me
I've got a f***ed up feeling, I'm the goat like Billy
But I've been in a ghillie
Hiding among the lilies
No matter if it's scorching or chilly
From here to way beyond Philly
It's way bigger than a Milli
People remain locked up or they're still free
In the end you won't or you will see
Limiting themselves from full potential they are guilty
In a world that continues to be beautiful yet filthy
It's difficult to maintain tranquility
Not always smooth and silky
In a galaxy they deemed as 'Milky'
For there to be success it had to be done skillfully
With brilliancy and agility
White shade’s drawn, we know Dad is tinkering.
Wheelie on tip toes, his kids’ curious.
Surprises are in store, coming our way.
My brother and I see shadows blinkering.
Wondering! Our excitement furious —
F U N day.
Eleven months apart, our surprise gifts
Dad wheels out Irish twin bikes for birthdays.
His leopard. Basket on mine. H A P P Y us!
Nevermind trainer wheels, our progress’ swift.
H U R R A Y!
11/2/2020
The Speaker Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
*Irish Twins meaning - we were born within twelve months of one another
The red bicycle he had seen earlier in the store
was the one he dreamed of, the one he adored
With handles that could go up or down
And a shiny bell, silvery and round
Not to mention the ten speeds it had
To own this bike would sure make him glad
Summer would be coming soon, and
He even imagined he could ride to the moon
Summer had come, and indeed he did ride
On a shiny red bike his joy and pride
He rode with his friends
In parks, and up hills, and on roadways with bends
The spokes on the wheels had reflectors, red
Riding with no hands as he gleefully sped
His adventures were many, with all of his friends
SUDDENLY, he was Jolted back to reality by the sound of his alarm clock!!
It was all a dream! ..., it was a terrible shock!!
Then he heard his mom say "Hurry or you'll miss your bus"
Half in a dream,and teary eyed, he got dressed with not even a fuss
Dazed, he went to the table to eat the cereal he liked
And there in the corner, A Shiny New Red Bike!!
The smile on his face seemed brighter than the sun
He knew that the summer would be nothing but fun
That summer he rode with his friends
Through parks, around lakes, and on roadways with bends
Riding over bridges, and down by the sea
Sometimes he even popped a wheelie
His adventures were many, with all of his friends
He rode from morning till late afternoon
Even imagining that he had rode to the moon
One thing was certain, and that he well knew
Was that day when his dream had somehow come true
It is the grand pubah, Meebow Durchee herself.
Twenty Meegees of tar got excited and fell off the shelf.
You better button your lip I said to Bolo Scopey that day
The tornado took out Mary Booger’s barn, it went far away!
Billy Beatercheese heard me, even though he was late.
Have you heard, he asked, of John Cameron Dirtnose’s fate?
Billy is usually full of figloshistical honkidayleon, so I turned away.
Ya can’t ram it son, said backsheared bashturd, merry and gay.
Stovepipe Wedge added “stomper right down, son”, without hate.
Fazah gave him a shiglostada throwing in a bit of confisticate.
Sibey Sahbah was the last meegee to arrive at Birds Little A.J.
Saying “lighten up the chain and wheelie for a block, okay?”
I heard the last of “ya can’t ram it down son” from Stovepipe now.
Billy said “my back flushed the bird cage, it was quite a wow!”
I have been down on everything but the Titanic you know.
But with this conversation, I did not know where to go.
Bolo Scopey gave us a peek at his beegomometer invention.
shows ta go ya to Dallas, he said, at the married convention.
Let’s screw it on and went right up the wall, said another.
It’s a distal aclousal on two, said my wise meegee mother.
When the team was supposed to be resting for the next game in the Regional Championships. We rented e scooters to make our trip worth it
The feeling of the torn off handle bar slamming against my palm as I jump the curb with a 30lbs hunk of metal.
Two wheeled vehicles becoming the staple of our extracurricular endeavors.
Some afternoons we even got our assistant coach to go on rides with us incase we ever needed an alibi down the road
Boba and Smoothie shops were his go to.
Until our starting midfielder tried to do a wheelie with our acai bowls losing two in the process
When we were supposed to be resting for the next game in the National Championship
One night we while trying to network ourselves to colleges we ended up at a Boise State dorm
Trying to explain to local students that we couldn't join them in going to the frat next door was very challenging at the time
In the early morning we went on a joyride to eventually be chased by local security guards after passing them at an unreasonable speed
Bangin up our starting defenders knee in the process
The night after winning said tournament
We went to the market to get snacks
Only to decide to host a poker tournament in of our hotel rooms with the team nextdoor
Lets just say the night ended with more I owe you’s than big winners
Common American Phrase: Suck it up, Buttercup
I shudder and shake with epinephrine as the needle stings inside my cheek, like a bee stings. I’m not a child, I’m a buttercup. The shaking rattles me but I relax until the next invasive… I see a bright light, though very much alive. Wearing glasses to protect my eyes. I close them so I can pray, and try not to pay too much attention to the two surgeons over me. A tooth distraction…a true extraction. The enemy must go, but the battle is strong as are my bones. Good news that grips the root. What’s going on, I can only hear the drill and my droughty lips feel like they are going to split. This is about an hour's procedure, it seems an eternity. The beginning was cold. I’m a retiree who hardly goes out, anymore, in the early morning. Georgia in March was a balmy twenty nine degrees fahrenheit. Hardly an inspiration to get up to have an operation. “Let’s not,” head says but wisdom knows, I must. I bundled up then stripped down as the car warmed up. After going through the ringer, I climb back in my car, and drive another twenty minutes and wait for prescriptions, hoping the pain won’t pop. Then one more stop for another that is cheaper in Publix…the needed antibiotic, Amoxicillin. Sometimes, you feel like you're in a nightmare where you can’t get back home. Patience is called for with a patient. The last couple of miles, I feel as though I’m on a bicycle. Even home, I have to unpack the meds, read the instructions then relax for a couple days, and realise I’m still on that hike…more waiting to eat and drink normal things.
Complaining…perhaps…or merely composing a poetic epitaph. After all, when I was laid back in the dentist’s chair, my jaw being held by the dental assistant, feeling I was inches from being choked to death, I was already writing this in my head, but not at all in the mood to pedal my fingers on the keyboard until these many days later, having been laid out in my wake for those many pain killer days. Don’t think me morbid, perhaps a bit Poe or prosaic. I feel swell…well swelling is down. It’s all downhill from here…that is a good thing. I may even pop a wheelie.
3/17/2023
Dear Lord this year to save time being lost
remind me- Turkey, Christmas Eve- defrost.
And when it's in the oven, leave no doubt
that I forgot to take the giblets out.
Five loaves, two fishes you fed five thousand,
may I feed six with far less food to hand
since each year bags of food we buy a few
the wheelie bin eats better than we do.
You love little children, what joy they bring,
for me, as tranquilizer, Sherry's king.
I pray , Lord, as I open my gift box
I look pleased with my snowman themed bed socks.
Please let me use only the choicest words
when queueing for pork pies at dawn, at 'Birds' *.
We thank you for the gift of Brussels sprouts
and hinged windows to let the odours out.
Peace keeper may I be as it gets late
and nobody offers to wash the plates.
Above all, Lord, may I remember who
this season is about, and it is you.
* Birds is our local bakery
Your bones are scattered in a boggy field -
it happens all the time.
Time is your pocket handkerchief,
your shattered wristwatch,
your best evening pants,
all reduced to insect dust.
Hundreds of years later
they discover,
a distant tooth with its crown intact,
later still, a being reports your broken jaw,
unearthed by the sludging rain.
Bit by bit your skull is discovered.
Eventually they have enough of your head
to commence a plaster likeness
of your skull.
Your life is so distantly buried into the past,
that the new beings have to speculate...
some assume you died,
at the hands of an axe wielding foe,
others that you succumbed to a
primitive tooth condition.
None ever guess,
that you flew off your girlfriends Honda,
practicing one last incautious wheelie
on a minor road
in darkest Derbyshire.
A strong wind blew and the whole town knew
This storm intended trouble
A crashing sound upon the ground
My chimney stack was rubble
The daffs by the highways were all growing sideways
And I heard my gardener cry
Because he had never and neither had I
Seen a greenhouse fly
And then there were screams, the vicar it seems
Thought he was Mary Poppins
His brolly went down - so did he with a frown
Preceded by his droppings
I, by golly, clung to my brolly
And I soared like an eagle
And then I saw the vicar bounce
Off Westminster Cathedral
Fences were flattened all over the town
And many trees were down
A wheelie bin rolled up the street
And past the rose and crown
And then the wind dropped
My brolly flight stopped
And I had to face a new truth
My landing had led
Straight into my bed
It seemed I would need a new roof