I see the moon riding with its reddish-golden tinge.
I see the moon riding as lives here die and begin.
It has no fanfare, no blazing gas, no rings.
It just reminds us that we’re mortal short lived beings.
It pulls back the oceans and commands the seas. It arcs, it wanes, it waxes—showing wonder to us, sea creatures, birds and other animals without wings.
I see the moon riding through the night, and sometimes through the day, reminding us that its silent power touches every earthly thing.
When popping a letter in the post
before you lick it and stick it
consider all the trees which would go
to grow a bigger and better thicket
if we don't wait it's not too late
what with black rain and red tides
while fossils fuel our vehicles
petroleum product-propelled rides
turn a new leaf is my belief
as going green keeps this planet blue
Shank's pony makes all the sense in the world
it's quite the right thing to do
I am riding my spider to pumpkin town
She was singing this song as she flew down
I ran off when I saw the size of her steed
He was so scary, I think I may have also peed
Spiders do not usually scare me but this one was a brute
The witch saw my face and she started to giggle and hoot
I was not so glad to hear her enormous rump toot
There was a stench that nearly made me fall off my stoop.
Used to love to ‘thumb rides’
‘til in a hippie bus a classmate died
His body chopped to pieces
~ no more need for father’s speeches
Excitement built up,
riding the hot air balloon
with my two daughters.
Turned to fear for falling fast,
bounced on the ground, and then dragged.
The frightening ride
happened in New Mexico
sixteen years ago,
did not dampen my spirit
for riding another one.
Felt no excitement
nervous from the prior ride,
calmly went for it.
Magic moment in the sky,
view of sunrise and balloons.
Seymour was sad that everyone generalized his kind
They do not think I hear, but it hurts, I truly do mind
They say we are slow, because we are snails you see
He did not have to tell me, said his Grandma Vee
She knew that the world made fun of the way they moved
In her day she had been a jitter bug dancer, who really could groove
But now she was just an old snail woman, alone in her chair.
But she knew Seymour did care, yes, her Seymour did care.
I think I will get a cycle and ride away good and fast.
Grandma smiled at his enthusiasm remembering her past.
She opened the garage, where inside sat her own Harley D.
Delighting Seymour when she said “you can have it for free”.
In silent drumbeats of depression
throbs a fractal life of no "visualization".
dandelions fluffing in howling winds
fight with Halloween "hallucinations".
behind the dusk of a sealed doorway lies
a vast empty space of no sun-showers...
I need a spaceship
to take me to a place I have never been
many lightyears away to another planet.
Where timeline untangles and "dream" floats
treading "whimsy" paths by moonlight.
Where crystalline castles of "imagination"
build chimeras over craterous depths.
Where a wandering soul can escape
into "reverie" flights of a wishful heart.
Where in pure beauty of the still night
dazzles a chest of rubies in onyx eyes.
Coding messages in long forgotten songs
through rows of roses, Will I get my Mozart?
In foams of a sea, only sorrow and suffering,
Will my status quo change to a happy ending?
We were waiting for Grandma, thought she would bring an Uber
Knowing Gram, said Jack, she might come down the stream in a tube-r.
We were watching to the east, but she came flying in on the right.
Riding her new Harley, which somehow felt just right.
Widowed Parker faced old age with grace
Brought a prostitute back to his place
Once she did what he said
She slipped out of his bed
Where he died with a smile on his face
He's a certified loner
Very Independent
Always doing everything
Without anyone support
Without confiding in any
Due to betrayals in the past
Always focusing on personal interests.
A self consultant
Always talking to self
Many label him crazy while bullying
From their own awareness
They're not aware of his pains and shames
He's always consulting himself
No longer trust people with his weaknesses.
Always staying in his lane
Without any complain
Already use to the pains
Confidentially walking around
With scars from trauma and betrayals
He rides in solitude, a deep thinker very empathetic.
one hemisphere lit
of split
personality;
Jack O’Lantern rides,
spurring the midnight stallion.
Ichabod’s head spins ‘round,
fear comes forth furiously,
without time
to catch his breath.
a clean cut,
detached from reality.
eyes spinning
within Crane’s inner space;
a pumpkin smash.
was this his nemesis
or the devil himself?
was Katrina worth this,
his head laid upon
the woodpile’s lap?
a dream perhaps?
another Van Winkle written off?
furrows on forehead,
pulp pulsing, scored;
twenty years or so forth.
generations hear of the headless wanderer
only the lovelorn venture off
(and Brom Bones ascendants)
descending into dreams, delusions
or the stampede of midnight hoofs.
Katrina lit a candle in the window
She’ll never be a widow; just blind
Bugs hitting my face
Wind in hair, feet on pedals
-Eleven again!
Matthew 21:2-7
King James Version
2 Saying unto them, Go into the village over against you, and straightway ye shall find an ass tied, and a colt with her: loose them, and bring them unto me.
Reread the passage. A man who had never ridden and a colt that had never been ridden.
he tied the donkey
unridden colt, they waited....
a man rode the colt
Luck Rides A Stick Horse
Miracle Man
1/2023
My old Bronc Buster friend named Bucky.
From a California city that’s named Truckee.
He paid me no heed,
concerning his steed,
So old Bucky, from Truckee, wasn’t lucky.
Nonchalant Monkey rides the masked elephant in swampy bend.
We wonder where he found the likes of this mysterious friend.
Who put the mask on this beast? An inquisitive star child asks.
The monkey keeps mum, no surprise, but it was quite a task.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.