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Best Poems Written by Charles Ruble

Below are the all-time best Charles Ruble poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

The Trucker

I was cruisen the back roads,in my ole semi truck,
Runnin against my log book,pressin my luck.
When way in the distance,I saw lights just a blinkin,
Couldnt be a scale house,thats what I was thinkin.
As I rolled closer,the sign was plain to read,
Scale house open,my truck was what they need.
So I rolled on in,their just doin the ground pressure check,
Then the sign flipped on,Bring your paperwork in to the scale of Libeck.
They asked for my license,they took a quick look,
Then they pointed at me and said,I need your log book.
The officer said,A little over on your time,
Your fuel stops dont match,this could cost you a dime.
But I'll make you a deal,see that parkin spot right there,
Pull in for ten hours and we will call it square.
Or you can take the fine,but I would not advise it sir,
It's one thousand dollars for every fifteen minutes per.
So when trying to gane time,and make an extra buck,
Dont plan on the backroads and dont press your luck.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

Welcome Home Dad

The sun shines through my window,
Awakening me with its warmth.
My eyes open to the light that it sheds on me,
My day begins.

I grab my shower,
Feeling the water as it sooths my mind.
I put my clothes on ,
And begin a new day.

I enter the hostile world,
The crooks,thieves,and vigilants.
I fight my way to work,
Through the road rage and never ending traffic.

The day is over,
I fight my way back home.
I enter the door and lean against it,
And the most wonderful thing happens.

My daughter takes my hand,
All the strife of the day just,
Dissapears.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

A Truck Driver

I am a truck driver,
A profession by choice.
Behind the wheel,
That's my voice.
Left the factory,
Not hidden by walls.
Run my loads wherever they call.
Dispatchers think,
We are some kind of superman,
When in reality,
We just do what we can.
We're looked down on,
Called all kinds of names.
Not recognized as humans,
Like on some deserted plain.
We have a heart,
We have a soul.
Not all are angry,
Not all are cruel.
We are tagged as killers,
By some attorneys at law,
They just want money,
They don't care at all.
No teachings in class,
No information supplied,
To what these rigs can do,
If one of us and a car collide.
I'm here to tell you,
I have a heart a mile wide,
I care about people,
My feelings I don't hide.
Treat me with shame,
Treat me like I am lower than you,
Just remember,You have to answer to God to.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

My Flag

Don't make fun of my flag that hangs on my wall,
It's not there for you'r amusement,thats not it at all.
I love my flag,it's rips and tears,
it gives me belief that someone cares.
So don't make fun of my flag that hangs there still,
it blows free and waves at will.
It moves with the wind when it blows through it's strands,
It weeps and cries in a soldiers hands.
My flag stands strong when most will fall,
It's been through dozens of wars,my flag has seen it all.
So the next time you laugh at my flag coming apart at the seams,
Think of the dead and you will hear there screams.
I raise my hand in honor to my torn old flag,
I am proud of the colors and for that I brag.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

My Truckers Prayer

Lord,bless me this day,
As I drive down this lonely highway.
Bless my family at home all alone,
Let me return where ever I roam.
If you feel it's my time to sleep,
Please take me quick and not let my family weep.
Keep my eyes open,keep my prayers in mind,
Keep my heart clean and let me always be kind.
Be my copilot in my time of need,
Remind me of who I am in my times of greed.
This is my prayer when I am on the road,
That I should return from every load.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

There's flowers on the grave where this man lies,
The flowers on this grave will never wilt or die,
Thoughts of this person resting in this tomb,
Lay across this nation in every living room,
He died beneath the colors of the red,white and blue,
To keep people safe like me and you,
Nobody knows his name or his race,
All they ask is for on him will God shed his grace,
God please watch over this soldier that nobody knows,
And keep the others safe no matter where they go.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

What I Would Say

What I would say is,
Keep your chin up,
carry that head high.
Take everything day by day,
Put the important things first,
Never forget a moment that goes by.
Take the good with the bad,
Things will work out in the end,
That's what my dad always said.
Keep the good thoughts first,
Keep the people you love close,
And keep a clear head.
It gets hard at times,
The thoughts of her,
The length of a lonely day.
But I tell that man,
The one in the mirror,
That's what I would say.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

The Last Ride

As he jump on his mighty steed and ran off into the night,
He knew that he would eventually see another gun fight,
His horse would ride like the wind,with his master on his back,
His guns ablaze and hands steady,preparing for the attack,
He knew this day would finally come,the looking glass showed his gray,
When a new rider would wear the badge and keep them at bay,
So he fought hard and gave it his all,up until he died,
Then the town he protected,gave him his last ride.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

The Gunfight

The barrel was long,
Made of cold hard steel.
The bullets of lead,
The pain would be real.
The streets made of dirt,
As the wind blew clouds of dust.
The showdown was at noon,
All for love and lust.
As they took to the street,
The spurs clinking as they walked.
The people looked from the windows,
And neither of them talked.
The one was a tall man,
Trench coat to his boots.
Came from a long line of gunfighters,
Every one knows how he shoots.
Grayness in his hair,
Wrinkles on his hands and face.
But he could still wheel a gun,
And at a very fast pace.
The other a younger fellow,
A little foolish at best.
Only ever killed one man,
Put a bullet in his chest.
A right hander,
Pulled his gun from the left side.
That second to reach across,
Could be the one that skins his hide.
The pistols were pulled,
At the clocks last stroke.
No one knew what happened,
Till the clearing of the smoke.
Love and lust,
And the causes of it all.
They must have been the same,
Because both men would fall.

Details | Charles Ruble Poem

The White Man

He was young,
Had his guns on his hip.
Walkin the streets,
With a cigar on his lip.
The town folk were scared,
They knew what he could do.
They have seen what he done,
To a chosen few.
The leather he wore,
Was stained from the powder of his gun.
A sign of the battles,
That the slinger had won.
A family moved in,
That no one knew.
A white man,
And a wife that was sious.
The young man decided,
The lady would not survive.
Because of her color,
She would die.
In the street,
In the middle of town,
This is where the slinger,
Where he gunned her down.
The white man,
Anger in his eyes,
Decided to give the slinger,
A surmise.
Leave this town,
Be gone by noon at best,
Or feel a bullet from my gun,
Deep in you'r chest.
The slinger smiled,
I am too fast,
You are an ole man,
You'r time has past.
You'r time has come ole man,
Take you'r stand,
But I tell you now,
Better have a fast hand.
When the smoke cleared,
The slinger lay on the ground,
With the white man,
looking down.
The slinger had just one last request,
How did you learn to shoot that way?
The white man answered,
I'm the son of Doc Holiday.