Long Car Poems

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


Premium Member My Mother the Car

From your senses, have you taken leave?
What you have told us is hard to believe.
We were all sorry when your mother passed away.
You met her again when you went car shopping today?
She came back as a 1928 Porter.
You drove her home to show your wife, son, and daughter.
Are you sure it was not your imagination?
There are some people who believe in reincarnation.

It seems strange to come back to earth as a car.
Of all the things in the world, that sounds quite bizarre.
Well, that is a weird scene, David Crabtree.
You are being pursued by Captain Manzini.
He chases after you during day and night.
He wants the car, and never gets your name right.

I know you are happy that your mother is alive.
However, the public did not seem to care in 1965.
Form: Rhyme


Road Rage

Road Rage

The sign on the road said stop and turn back
But the driver is listening to his own soundtrack
The noise in his head is messing up his thinking
As he looks at the truck ahead whose lights are blinking

He yells out the window ‘’Are you stupid or what’’
‘’Watch what you’re doing you ignorant clot’’
When he looks back at the road it’s already too late
With his foot to the floor, he meets his fate

I know for I was there on that same road
I was driving a truck with a heavy load
The truck in his way was driven by me
I kept hitting the breaks in the hope he would see

The bridge up ahead had collapsed you see
I did what I could as he sailed by me
He saw my warnings as a hindrance to ignore
Some people are like that when you knock on their door

Don’t worry how they drive, but how you do instead
Watch for the warning lights up ahead
For some roads go nowhere and you need to resist 
Because those that seek to travel them will cease to exist

A.Jarvis March 2012
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Witch's Car

Once I had a little car,
I loved hr Oh so much;
But she was murdered by a man,
Who drove a big Dodge truck.

I looked around and finally found,
A car to take her place.
Who knew behind her pretty face,
The engine'd been laid waste.

She coughed and choked and gagged until,
She spit up chunks of carbon.
My husband bought her anyway.
He said that could be pardoned.

He said it was a minor thing.
He'd fix it right away.
It turned into a major bill,
That wouldn't go away.

It spent more time in the garage,
Than it di on the road,
And we were told to sell it soon,
For soon we'd need it towed.

Whoever'd worked under the hood,
For certain must be manic,
For from the looks of things in there,
He was no mechanic.

I felt so down, I'd spent so much,
This thing could not be worse.
I felt for sure that in this car,
I drove under some curse.

The ties broke as I drove it home.
I went right in the ditch.
I swear before we bought this car,
It was owned by a witch.
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Quatrain

Sedation

“Sedation”
by Positive Mark

Deep, still blue.

Rage from the Peekskills, now caged from his street skills, with the vantage point of a gargoyle heart of stone.

The streets should be mine, but there’s always other stragglers.

Used to be streets. Now, it’s backroads, chasing antlers.

Conjuring faces of the fallen. Wondering from what damned direction I’ma hear our sins calling.

Freeing the spirit with acts that defile matter.

Forever shaking the salt from the blood splatter.

Heart with a hard on for that incense carbon smoke.

Fix me up a bump, and I damn sure better choke.

Point me to the spot where them cats is on dippers.

Scroll down on Backpage for Baltimore strippers.

Five day admission, and back to the medication.

Deep, still blue.

Drenched in darkness for sedation.
Form: Rhyme

It's a Curse To Own a Hearse

Instead of being a chick magnet, my vehicle is a curse.
No woman will go out with me because I own a hearse.
I bought my hearse because it runs great and it was dirt cheap.
But when women see it, they slap my face and call me a creep.
I finally got a date with the woman of my dreams.
But when she saw my hearse, she ran and screamed.
Women don't want to make out where corpses have been.
Because of my vehicle, they won't date me, they find other men.
If you already have a bad love life, making my mistake will only make it worse.
Women will not date a man if he drives a hearse.  

(I got the idea for this poem from a TV show that I saw.)
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Touch and Go

There are pets and then there are people in fur coats.                                                  My Angel Face was a people in a fur coat.                                                              She loved to go riding in the car.                                                                                                                                                  She would put on her seat belt and mommy would be put on hers.                                           Then it was off to hit the road to see what we could see.                                              With delight to the bank for a cookie.                                                                        Angel Face seemed to know when there were no cars-no red lights in front of us.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      She would take her left paw/leg and press down on my right thigh.                              She would press down until I would go.                                                                    She would do her touch and we would go faster.                                                        Touch my leg again and we would go even faster.                                                        We never figured out how Angel Face knew my leg worked the car.                            She wanted speed and she got it.                                                                                My Angel Face was a people in a fur coat.

 

Date Written: 3/31/2021                                                                                                Note: True Story

Submitted For:Your 2021 N-A Choice 2 Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by:William Kekaula Date: 04/28/2021 

N/A Title:"Touch And Go"                                                                                                      This or That, Vol 1 Poetry Contest                                                                                Sponsored by:Edward Ibeh

This Old Car

This old car written by a parky ,


I have a friend Denitia 
A lovely lady she is
I rang her up one morning
To see if she was in

We decided to have some fun
In an old reck of a car
So off we went 
With tools in hand to find this old car.

This car was for the crusher 
It had no seats or wheels 
But we put our heads together 
And started to build

We worked on this old car all day 
And found some good old wheels
We sorted out the puncher 
And polished up the steel

They all come up such a treat 
All sparkling with a gleam
And then when we looked with in the car 
There was no seats to be seen

So of we went to have a fined
And there to our amaze 
Was an old pink push chair 
That will do as a seat 

We needed a front seat 
So that we could drive 
She put it in excitedly 
And decided she would drive

We realised  it need a battery 
And found one on the ground, 
We checked it out 
and to our surprise
It started up the car

We both jumped in, And of we went 
Not knowing we're to go
And this old car went chugging along 
And never let us down

The radio was blaring 
The music so much fun
We sang along in rhythm 
To the 70 s songs

We followed along the rd 
And vagus did we find
It was all lit up and all aglow 
With beautiful fairy lights 

We parked the car,And wondered around 
We had so much fun that night
There were saloons and bars 
And dancing to ,all through the night 

We had so much fun,We wanted to stop 
But had to get on our way 
We wondered back to the car 
But we had lost our way

We both could not remember ,
were we parked the car
This poor old cars gone missing
It's a jaguar 

It's blue and brown , 
it has got lots of rust
And has  a beautiful pink drivers seat,
It sing all the songs that you can sing 
All from the 70s 

So if you find a car , that's blue and brown
And lots of rust you see
And that it's a jaguar 
That sing along to the 70s

Please look after this old car
It's to good to be crushed 
It won't never let you down 
Even though it's full of rust

But we have never found it 
It's gone from our minds 
We just hope that one day 
We will hear it coming by

We listen out for the 70s
The songs we so enjoyed 
And prohaps one day we will remember 
We're we left the car


Sue gage

Taking The Train

Roads are all clogged ~ clogged with cars
there's too many too many by far
streets look more like a parking lot
there's no sword for this Gordian Knot
I'm leaving town want to get where I'm going
nothing's slowing me down
leaving town want to get there on time
I'm not dawdling or waiting around
like a hot cup of coffee on a stone-cold morning
or an ice-cold beer on a hot summer's day
it's a new lease on life down the line
leaving nothing behind I'm on my way
I'm taking the train to my next location
no car for me I won't be
driving to a new destination
traveling light making for the station
taking the train I'm taking the train
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Crash in Mormon Country

I was driving a station wagon, Dad on my right
Mom, young kids, and dog in back seat
Construction ahead, a warning light
In my mind I keep the scene on repeat

I saw the truck in my rearview mirror
It was going fast, I was going slow
I couldn't accelerate as it got nearer
It climbed on our wagon, in Idaho.

It forced the rear of the car into asphalt
The rear doors sealed, but the dog did a vault
Mom lifted the kids over, seared her skin
Moved sideways and a flame shot up where she'd been.

We all made it out, and Mormons took us in
Kids made Mormon friends, and we regrouped
Took an airplane the rest of the way to the coast
Not a story of which I can boast.

Dad's summer teaching had to cover the cost
But we won something, not just lost
We found strength and friendship where we didn't expect
From people whose kindness I'll never forget.

Now every flashing warning light
Takes me back to that July.
A rearview mirror, one long breath,
The line between life and death.

Besides the Mormons, I also thank fate
Death has to come, but death had to wait.
Form: Lyric

Premium Member To the Guy Who Keyed My Daughter's Car

I’ll bet you think you were unseen….
Invisible like a ghost.
Well, guess what?
You’re not as sneaky as you are stupid.
Were you really that mad about
Being beaten to a parking place?
A place she politely waited for and rightfully earned.
And, she had two little babies with her…
While YOU, a big strong guy, were by yourself.
I guess I could tell the whole world your name…
But, that won’t be necessary.
Don’t worry…
I won’t call the police.
Those who know will keep the secret well.
And,,,You’ll  NEVER need to worry about them.
They would never hurt you personally, that is.
They wouldn’t key YOUR car,
Put sugar in your gas tank,
Knock on your door at 3 AM
After toilet papering your house.
They won’t scatter Pramitol over your lawn and shrubs.
I made them promise not to hurt you in any way.
So, you’re safe,,, for now.
But, next  time… Remember…
I know who you are!
And, you don’t want to know me….
Form: Narrative

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