Best Asleep At The Wheel Poems | Poetry

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Asleep at the Wheel by theKidster, SillyBilly
Falling Asleep At The Wheel by Ellison, Jack
Asleep At The Wheel by bell, tom

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The Best Asleep At The Wheel Poems

 
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Sept 11,the day the world stood still

It was a day like every other day, sunny and warm they said
New Yorkers smiling and happy, looking for their daily bread
Taxis were darting here and there, planes flying everywhere
Children were going to school, parents laying down the rule.

Plans were made for later that day,
Meet you at 7, no, make it 8. I'll do my best not to be late.
Don't worry baby, I don't mind at all, Just please, remember to call.

Who could have known that waking up that day,
that things would happen in an unusual way.
To change forever, the way we think and feel
The events we saw, yes, they were real.

No way to deny it, it was on the news,
With our own two eyes, there were hundreds of views.
over and over we watched, hard to believe,
what we just witnessed, what did it all mean?

What an unusual sight, that plane in flight,
just before the ninth hour, when it hit the tower,
How terrible we thought, answers we all sought
Like, why did that happen, how could it be?

That a plane hits a skyscraper, in plain sight,
In broad daylight, not the dark of night.
Was it pilot error? How could that be?
The tower was right there, for him and all to see!

That moment was special, that moment in time,
when the whole world was watching, yes, stopped on a dime.
We saw the flames burning, our hearts they burned too,
would there be any survivors?... Who knew?

Calls were made, to say I love you,
Life's been good until now, it's been good loving you.
Say goodbye to the kids for me, tell them be strong,
Tell them daddy loves them...goodbye, so long.

We saw a man falling, from way up above,
Who was that man? Did he not feel loved?
or was he just desperate, to escape the heat?
We all watched in horror, as he fell to the street.

So many were dying, it was too hard to bear,
Many just couldn't get down the stairs.
Some just stayed put, thinking help will come,
What they didn't know was, the damage was done.

The bravest ones, I saw that day, firefighters, on the way,
into the fire they would run, climbing higher and higher,
To save others lives...from that raging fire.
They did not know then, it was a tragic mistake,
All they knew was...lives were at stake.

Many escaped from the tower, running for their lives,
we saw them running with terror in their eyes.
So many people were running just like the others,
They were their fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers.

...And then suddenly another plane appeared!
Was it coincidence, orjust something weird?

When it hit the second tower, at that very hour,
it became crystal clear, that it was just as we feared,
It was not a mistake, someone asleep at the wheel,
It was an attack! that one and all, we would feel.

From that day forward, everything would change,
The world was unrecognizable, suddenly so strange.
Innocence was lost, and war came at great cost,
We learned that terror, was more than just a word,
It was what we all saw, felt, and heard.

So now here we are, so many years later,
Is your pain, grief and fear, lesser, or greater?

Only God can help us now, with all of our fears,
It is he, who promises, to wipe away our tears.
And pain, death, and all of our sorrow,
Will all be gone, in what will seem like tomorrow.

Yes, God will surely help us, I know he will.
But, still it's hard to forget, Sept 11

The day the world stood still.

John Derek Hamilton   
December 20,2012 
Final revision October 13,2015






Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2015

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Nobody's Child

Where was I born, who do I know,
All that I own is all here on show.
I’m nobody’s child, a child of the street,
Does that make me wrong, am I incomplete?

The beginning was the end for me,
It was all downhill for all but me to see.
I reached out for the sun and moon,
Not knowing that soon, they would both be in tune.

The drunken, shaking hand rises up again,
Leaving me alone with my new pain.
I only wanted to show that I can grow,
Have I learn’t more than I should know?

I can not cry, I can not show any fear,
I haven’t cried at all this year.
What is happiness, alcohol knows no limits, 
The futures not bright if I’m not in it.

As sure as the night will follow the day,
I’m destined to wander, you know I won’t stay.
The road is my bible, the stars my guide,
From winged creatures, I must run and hide.

I’m nobody’s child, asleep at the wheel,
Uppers and Downers, I will pop any pill.
Into the darkness, awake to the end,
How do I know that you are my friend?

I never looked for two paths, even when I had a choice,
I can hear so many people talking but only one voice.
I can not get even, let alone even the score,
I’m nobody’s child, do you see anything more?

The holes in the floor are round and not square,
Sometimes I think that they are not there.
Where do I stand and where do I go,
I’m nobody’s child, does it really show?

There is someone standing over me, smiling bright,
I am pulled in two directions, from the dark to the light.
Maybe I wasn’t that bad, it wasn’t all my fault,
I’m nobody’s child, perhaps I just wasn’t caught.


Copyright © Rob Meader | Year Posted 2008




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Of Doping and Lifetime Bans

If Lance Armstrong isn’t King of Cheaters
He’s most certainly on the royal court
No soul to sell, that former world-beater
Poster boy for putting self before sport

The town’s old sheriff, asleep at the wheel
Cheaters get a tiny slap on the hand
Much more than laurels the swindlers do steal:
People’s respect for all sports in the land 

Now think of a world record that’s been set
Or a gold medal won, do you figure--
When was the last time you were confident
Physiology hadn’t been jiggered?

I say throw cheaters out for evermore
For how else will people ever believe
That sport’s integrity has been restored
And the whole world is not being deceived?

The human potential, heart, and effort
The only measure, else there is no sport.

3/26/16


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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Falling Asleep At The Wheel



Have had this beard since 1962 Without it would sure be unsightly Have a severe case of sleep apnea A face mask must fit tightly To solve it, may have to shave it off Or I'll lose my right to drive The danger is falling asleep at the wheel But my eyes are always open wide We all get lumped together it seems If the tests prove the danger is real I'll lose my independence forever after Since my teens, been behind the wheel Feels like I've reached a whole new plateau A plateau that was so far away Next I'll be spoon fed by an elderly nurse In a home... oh happy day! © Jack Ellison 2015


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015

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Asleep at the Wheel

While mating, the male often falls asleep at the wheel,
still gripping the female tight,
and there he may sleep for the rest of the day,
and possibly into the night,
but more often than none, he doesn't sleep very long.
The female wakes him with a well placed bite.
This behaviour occurs often between every coupled pair,
during the mating season of the grizzly bear.


Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster | Year Posted 2015

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Lost

 

Totally abandoned and all alone,
she's left to fend for herself in a world so cruel, so unknown.
Just a few days ago all was fine,
till she fell asleep at the wheel, and crossed that yellow line.

How she survived the crash is anybody's guess,
but the one fact she does know is it left her life in a horrible mess.
A loving husband and her baby boy, now just memories and the hurt won't go away,
she was a good mother and a loving wife, is what she heard the people say.

But in her own mind those dark clouds will never set her free,
how can that love ever be replaced, she exclaims it can never be.
With no will to live, she lowers her head and bends her knees,
and cries out Father, I need you, please, please hear my pleas!

In almost an instant, a calm feels the room,
and she feels a peace start to blossom and bloom.
As quickly as the burden came,
it's lifted along with all the blame.

With a new lease on life, the world is not so bad,
although she still misses the ones she loved, her memories now are of the good times that
they once had.
With God in your heart and a prayer on your lip,
the love and mercy of God gives you strength and a mighty powerful partnership!


Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2011

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Deep See

I'm talking about spirits that live deep down in the depths of my thoughts, brought to life when the abyss flows over, I can't keep my mind focused, it's like falling asleep at the wheel but you're not the one driving, so everything is just outta your control,...the faster the time flies, the slower life hits, kinda like smiles that's being sold for gold, and love's never been the type that calls my phone, more like being on hold,...I'm typecast, cuz everybody's actors, I can feel pain around the corner, it's found on the walls, and mixes with struggle like asbestos, but inspiration lights the room up, it's lights the tomb up, but I wouldn't say I'm dead just yet,...they say I reak of depression, I tell them I'm just congested, and can't smell the roses in the cold, but nonetheless I'll make it through, we always do, as long as the girls around me understand when to lose their clothes, reach for your dreams, lose care to all underneath, cause all that I seem to see is the bottom, so if you feel like me, spark 'em if you got 'em, cause when you walk in my crib and you smell the nag champa burning, just know I'm trying to be a better person, like when the days worsen,...but every cloud's lining is silver, so I push the petal to the metal and speed into a brand new day, like there's nothing more to say,...nothing more to say...


Copyright © Jason Johnson | Year Posted 2013

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It's Too Late

I feel asleep at the wheel
while she slipped on out the door;
I didn’t notice, but the signs were there -
She didn’t love me anymore.
She probably told me, but I didn’t listen -
focusing on the football score.
The home team won; I took the bet,
but my loses continue to soar.

That Queen-sized bed that seemed so small
when the two of us fought over the sheets;
Engulfs me now in emptiness
and a guilt that is complete;
A love that I took for granted
just drove away on down the street;
My complacency and self-centeredness
has left me in defeat.

Her recorded voice on our answering machine,
I know I should erase;
I know that I am the one to blame
for the sad look upon her face;
Her cries for attention I brushed aside
when instead I should embrace;
And now I hear echoes in every room
of this sad and lonely place.

It’s too late to ask forgiveness
It’s too late to change my ways
It’s too late to make amends
It’s too late to save the day
It’s too late to say “I love you”
And to show you just how much
It’s too late to recognize you
And for your heart my love to touch


Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2011

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Lucille

There once was a lady named Lucille.
At times she fell asleep at the wheel.
In spite of wake-up antics,
Needing a caffeine sip-fix,
She imbibed Mountain Dew with great zeal!

© October 13, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest:  Pick a Beverage, any Beverage 
Sponsored by: Francine Roberts


Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2011

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Twitterverse

Digital ibrains wired by technical innovation 
Infinite zeros and ones succinctly juxtaposed
Servicing insatiable minds endlessly gorging
Unencumbered on amoral unconscious drivel
Cryptic inculcated values of inconvenient truth 
Vexed subliminal dreams asleep at the wheel
Beyond the reach of anciently societal norm’s
Onetime luculent exchange of spoken words

Information overloaded souls senses entwined
By mindlessly intake of picayune nothingness
Hypnotized puppets engaged in endless diddle
Needless spuriousness, rumor and gobblygook
Bearing fearful repetitious non-stop daymares
Youthful night terrors re-imagined non-realities
Baptized in popular culture’s inane discourse
Thirstily embracing untrustworthy confidences

Humanity’s noiseless expanding twitterverse
Oft unintelligible renderings of symbolic tokens
Technicised brief simplist non-standard tweets
Pretentious diacritical marks posing as speech
Pseudo-colloquial terms imbedded worldwide 
Social media’s distracting addictive mindscape 
An uncommon mutated precipitous slanguage 
Benumbing us into twittering our lives away

© Eugene Harvey


Copyright © Eugene Harvey | Year Posted 2012

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The Running Chestnut - euphemisms

Next you can expect Running Chestnut                                                                               over the hill and through the grove            									                                                                                                                	  in three moons and a coon's age but  											I am only as old as I can still remember 										      only as I feel No rain no gain in my december pond  									In my day we walked uphill bare footed in dirt older than                                                                                                                            	both ways in around about way growing gracefully                                                                                                           	Help I've fallen asleep at the wheel in my golden age								and can't get up to see blue hair on the back burner    								Coming and going expression lines upon my face                                                                                                                                 	 a moment of good vintage did I leave the stove on 								The Running Chestnut doesn't fall to far from the tree


Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2012

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Dead on Thanksgiving

(This is a fictional poem)

My cousin ate a big turkey dinner and he was sleepy because of the Triptovan.
We suffered a great tragedy when we lost this man.
While he was driving, he fell asleep at the wheel.
He had a bad crash and he was killed.
They say he died instantly so maybe he wasn't in any pain.
I used to love Thanksgiving but now it will never again be the same.


Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2006

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Predestination

Rupert Lang set out from London,
it was ten minutes to eight.
He meant to travel to the Midlands
to be with his dad in hospital 
in Birmingham. Weather forecast: 
chance of rain.

Peter Smith drove down from Penrith,
he was traveling to Dover
to take the channel tunnel to spend 
the next two weeks vacationing 
with his family in France.

On a section of the M1 south of Birmingham
a Vauxhall Vega, its driver asleep at the wheel, 
jumped the grassy median into the north-bound lanes 
and crashed headlong into a Ford Cortina.

An unclaimed hotel reservation 
and the latest Playboy magazine 
fluttered to rest, side by side, 
on the shoulder close to exit 31.


Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2009

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Predestination

Robert Lang set out from London,
it was ten minutes to eight.
He meant to travel to the Midlands
to be with his dad in hospital 
in Birmingham. Weather forecast: 
chance of rain.

Peter Smith drove down from Penrith,
he was traveling to Dover
to take the channel tunnel to spend 
the next two weeks vacationing 
with his family in France.

On a section of the M1 south of Birmingham
a Vauxhall Vega, its driver asleep at the wheel, 
jumped the grassy median into the north-bound lanes 
and crashed headlong into a Ford Cortina.

An unclaimed hotel reservation 
and the latest Playboy magazine 
fluttered to rest, side by side, 
on the shoulder next to exit 31.


Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2009

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Hurricane Katrina's Unavoided Heeds !

Rain drops splashed hard against my face...
Winds swirled about in many a place.Roofs
and tree tops flew off through out the
air...All damaged property was spread all
about,and everywhere.After hurricane
Katrina-FEMA fell asleep at the wheel..They
were slow in helping people to rebuild and
to heal!Those in charge were too slow to
act...Fema was too slow to make contact and
react!How can we put faith in people who
are left in charge?Government officials are
like wolves set loose in a chicken coop...
Oh so careless and loose at large!Trailers
are needed to be placed on land...Supposed
by God loving people,don't seem to want to
lend a realty lending hand!Katrina could 
have been avoided...If expert's warnings had
been so heeded,all loss of life and money
would have been voided and not needed!
01-11-2006'.




Copyright © Michael Gale | Year Posted 2006

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BLOODY TRACKS A TRAIL

                    BLOODY TRACKS A TRAIL

I am England bound and am keeping this journal because upon a train shall I take this trip
“well young lady don’t order the scones at Briggs and Dale’s , that’s just a tip”
This trip entails two trident trains all steamed up and ready to go
I’d ride old Betsy who was fed on  fire, flames and coal you know

But here’s the thing about the two trains on different tracks
A night black as a bat and blind as one who simply could not relax 
Then my magic man passes by, gives a grin, and keeps his strident walking
As much as I yearned for him to stop, and request we start talking

Then the handsome turned and asked me if I would like to share a dinner
Of course I want you to join me, because we both come out the winner 
 “Dinner was divine, and I’m pleased you accepted my invitation
And the casual conversation exceeded my expectation”

stumbling a bit from some vintage brandy we shared
While he tells himself only an angel could urge they to be paired
And when fate demanded that their lips must meet
Cotton candy and gum drops cannot be as sweet  

There were two tracks but someone was asleep at the wheel
Someone ran a red light and it caused a very big deal
Alas the crash, the blood, the wounds and bandages too
People ran around knowing not what they should do

the lovely was going on vacation
the man was doing what he did for his occupation 
And for two so fair there would be no trip, train or fire to be fed
Because the couple lay aside a journal stained by Brandy and both quite dead
                    © 2011.….Phreepoetree

















Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2011

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Predestination

Rupert Lang set out from London,
it was ten minutes to eight.
He meant to travel to the Midlands
to be with his dad in hospital 
in Birmingham. Weather forecast: 
chance of rain.

Peter Smith drove down from Penrith,
he was traveling to Dover
to take the channel tunnel to spend 
the next two weeks vacationing 
with his family in France.

On a section of the M1 south of Birmingham
a Vauxhall Vega, its driver asleep at the wheel, 
jumped the grassy median into the north-bound lanes 
and crashed headlong into a Ford Cortina.

An unclaimed hotel reservation 
and the latest Playboy magazine 
fluttered to rest, side by side, 
on the shoulder close to exit 31.



Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2006

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Dead Mans Cry

It was a little after three 
In the middle of the night 
When I stirred from my sleep
And got blinded by the light 
Three strikes and you’re out 
Was all this dude heard 
As a pile of metal crushed me 
When a car jumped the curb 
I was sleeping like a baby 
Something I hadn’t done in a while 
But my record was pulled 
And deceased stamped on the file 
No more gift of living 
As I’m laying here in the ground 
No forgiveness on my record 
Nowhere could it be found 
When I’m raised at that time 
For that great judgment day 
Only words of regret 
Will this mind and mouth say 
I’ll be condemned to die 
In that eternal flame 
As I look around 
For someone else to blame 
Soon my time of living 
Will be gone up in smoke 
Believe this as the truth 
Cause it sure’s not a joke 
I lived hard and fast 
Never caring about my life 
Gave up on many girl friends 
And a good many wives 
But asleep at the wheel 
Is what done me in 
And now I can’t ask forgiveness 
For all my guilty sins 
I’ll take the blame 
As really I should 
Even though I was kind 
And always acted good 
Goodness and mercy 
Ain’t what it’s all about 
My time now has ended
And for that there’s no doubt 
I paid the piper 
On that fatal night 
And God marked off my name 
And turned out my light 


Copyright © will karry | Year Posted 2014

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I'm

I'm, asleep in my mind
afraid of whats there to find
still wishing I could rewind
to snap me out of this grind

I'm, asleep at the wheel
how should that fact make me feel?
when I'm not sure what is real
layers of sanity peel

I'm, on the dark-side of me
blind but somehow I can see
a third eye discovery
to help my recovery

I'm, destroying the day
the reasons I feel this way
why I am full of dismay
I put my own life on delay

I'll, slap myself awake
always give more than I take
try and give myself a break
always choose real over fake

I'm, awake.


Copyright © Eric Schojan | Year Posted 2014

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oh my gosh, YES

somehow
i lost my way
and i am happy

so many small towns
revitalize the universe of my soul
and i am content

i never want to 
fall asleep at the wheel
for i am mesmerized

i find internal solace
with you externally riding beside me
and i am satisfied


Copyright © Marty King | Year Posted 2017

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Octopus

Octopus arm 
circumventing mind
reaching soul
through media
lulled eyes
dreamy of riches
and sex appeal
asleep at the wheel.
Women apparel
designed to reveal
layers of make up
to conceal
with strength of men
fight
for the right
to abort a child
without any thought
an object become.
Men likewise
in women attire
urged to be feminine
when they are not
hiding grief
for basest needs
pass on baton
to lead
octopus lies
don't care to resist.
Arise from the dust
with an eagle flight
shake off the snake  
into the flame and shout
We are not afraid
we are men
and women of faith.




Copyright © Frances Schiavina | Year Posted 2017

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Asleep At The Wheel

Drivin' me crazy,
Mind gettin' hazy,
Foot gettin' lazy,
Goin' to see Daisy...

A sight to see,
Daisy and me,
With her Daisy-Duke shorts,
She just attracts all sorts...

But my eyes won't stay open,
My hardest effort at copin'
Ain't gona be enough,
Just ain't got the right stuff...

Lids gettin' heavy,
Hands now unsteady,
I veer off the road,
Sleepiness my load...

From there I don't remember,
On that day in September...
I woke up in hell
"Welcome Tom Bell"!!

The demons did dance,
And put me in trance,
Locked in my stance,
I had absolutely no chance...

So if you're needing your sleep
Off the roads you must keep,
Or your soul, the devil will reap,
And you'll wind up here,
In a hell far too deep.















Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2007

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Little God

I am no poet
Only a little God
That
Writes like one
words 
In
The 
Bell tower 
here A lovely wound 
Burns 
Where my chest laboured
And 
Emaciates 
The 
Fiction I
Carry
No longer divine,
I will 
Likely drown
In the wake 
Of 
This
Humanity
You would do better to 
Find someone else 
To read.
These words 
Rocks
Falling off of
The mountain
Hard and 
Asleep at the wheel
They will crush you 
As you speak


Copyright © Tomas Vincent Marra | Year Posted 2017