Best Automobile Poems
My man was old and battered and was destined for the scrap heap
He’d failed his annual MOT as his many defects ran far too deep
His motor was still running but he had an intermittent fault
He’d nod off when we were making love – (I’d feel a sudden jolt!)
His once full head of blonde gleaming hair
Can be polished, as it now it’s thinning there
With aching joints that my man once trusted
He needed a service as his parts were rusted
So I took him to the used man showroom to see what they could do
They gave him full service to see if his parts they could renew
They said he still had many miles to go and they no longer made this model
But if I had his engine repaired he’d be going at full throttle
The trusty mechanics worked day and night
To ensure that his engine was running just right
They polished his body, now you should see it shine
He’s back to how he was now his motor is just fine!!!
If I’d trawled the showrooms would I want to replace
The one who’d stuck by me and kept a smile on my face
I’ve no wish to trade him in or keep him as a spare
After many years together there’s bound to be wear and tear!
FUN FICTION WRITE FOR THE CONTEST!
IF I SHOPPED FOR MY SPOUSE LIKE I SHOP FOR MY AUTOMOBILE CONTEST
Sponsored by Cindi Rockwell
Over the top of Tammy hill
came Tully’s motor car,
Tully never drove it very fast
nor ever very far.
In his youth he’d taught us all
How to pilot our ride,
It was a job he did very well
And in it found his pride.
But now Tully was an older gent
approaching eighty-three,
And he was a pretty good driver still
for a man who couldn’t see.
So when it became known to all
that Tully was on a drive,
It was best for them to stay inside
If they hoped to stay alive.
Whenever he detected movement
in his line of sight,
He’d steer his car right for it
and do so with delight.
He’d assume that he’d happened upon
some traffic on the lane,
It didn’t really matter to him at all
if it was an auto or a train.
All that ever mattered to Tully
was that he found his way to the pub,
And he was about to spend an evening
of Guinness and Irish grub.
Then one night I’d had enough
and was in fear of poor Tully’s life,
The thought of the blind old man
behind the wheel added to my strife.
So I lifted the bonnet on his ride
and removed the distributor cap,
When I was done I was greeted by
some locals as they began to clap.
When Tully finally stumbled out
he found that his ride was no longer game,
He took out a pistol and shot it dead
As if it a horse that had turned up lame.
Now Tully has moved to town
And can walk wherever he goes.
Off in the direction of the wind
And follows wherever it blows.
And when a car comes down the lane,
To the side he’ll frantically dive.
He’ll shake his fist and yell at them,
“Who was it that taught you to drive?”
When I shop for an automobile,
I don’t worry much about speed.
Good mileage per gallon I want.
A van or a truck I don’t need!
So I guess if shopped for a spouse
the way that I shop for a car,
that means that my man wouldn’t need
much fuel, but he still could go far!
And since I can’t stand vans and trucks
(preferring a car rather small),
my man, by those very same standards,
would not be too hunky at all.
Neither too slow nor too fast, my man
would be like a Mitsubishi
A Spyder Eclipse, rather cute,
and super efficient for me!
When I shop for an automobile,
looks matter! I love a great hue.
And sporty is nice, but oh my,
what guy in the world is light blue?
And finally this is a must -
I want a convertible top!
Does that mean that men with toupees
are spouses for whom I should shop?
The spouse I have now is not small
nor sporty; his color is grey!
He’s bald, so he’s somewhat a rag-top.
I could purchase for him a toupee!
When all my old cars put on miles,
I always considered a trade-in.
But now that I’m old like my spouse,
I don’t think I’ll go through that again!
You cannot change the past, as time is linear
Time is but a limited automobile.
It cannot move backwards.
It’s rear windows, a definite ebony.
It’s windshield wipers invisible to the eye.
You can drive
Awake, for the car does not drive itself or you
You drive it while it guides you
You are not your fate, but your fate is what you become
Whatever you mean
Fate takes you where it takes you
Fate is in control of your life
But so are you
Put your hands on the wheel
Foot on the gas
Drive, but don’t stop
You cannot change the past, but you can live in the present
Time is but a concept, fate is but a friend.
This friend has no end
For its end ended before a new you had begun
This car is Right, always moving Right.
The Automobile Mechanic
The automobile mechanic was originally
a car owner who carried out his own repairs
during the turn of the 19th Century.
These days, it is a person who endeavours to fix
the car problems of the everyday motorist
he is part engineer, detective, and miracle worker
all rolled into one, when the motorist expects their car
virtually fixed at a moment's notice.
He is truly a modern day unsung hero to most
who keep their car in tip top condition
although the mechanic seldom gets
the credit that he or she rightly deserves.
Not advertising that flippant flick. I just want to know
where my blooming flivver is. It ruffles my feathers no
end to find out, when exiting the embassy,
that my buggy's whereabouts are a mystery.
I must meet Sherry 'cause her right toe
wants a sweet kiss. Did the camel tow
my car? That blasted mammal! Sherry's dear
foot can't wait! Please do not tell me the deer
took my buggy! That son of a Witch
would fine
me with a very pricey mulct which
isn't fine!
Not another loathsome tax
to put up with! Oh no, Lord, please!
I beg thou hearken to my pleas!
Now, let's come down to tin tacks.
I need my bloody car! A choice bass
cooked by Sherry awaits me. The crass
specimen who's got my car is so base,
and I'm so cross! The camel has a bass
voice that creeps me out! I do not want to
deal with him. I cannot even stomach two
secs the sight of the deer. He's ugly too.
II.
On returning to his flat, mad as a goat,
Ivo found on the door, the following note:
Dear Ivo,
I hereby inform you that your awfully and
illegally parked streetcar has been impounded.
Come pick it up at the City Hall and
bring cash with you for there's a fine. 8 hundred
clams.
Much love,
The Crane from Ukraine.
Blimey! That heartless crane! I won't give her a buck!
Now I know the ruffians weren't the camel and the buck.
Well, let's be fair, it wouldn't be cricket to pass the buck.
I didn't park properly. It's my fault. That's it. I will not buck
at the fine.
III.
I got my car back for free. How? l told the crane;
"I'm in a hurry to meet Sherry who needs me to canoodle
her feet. I'll have tonight for dinner a bass fish with noodles."
"If a foot massage like the ones I used to get in Ukraine.
you give me, I will be happy to call off the mulct." said she.
I pleased her feet very much. She loved it. Then we got some tea.
IV.
I'm on my way home to eat some bass,
with my beloved and awesome lass.
It's so nice to be able to dine
without having paid that gruesome fine.
The amazing, incredible, wonderful car
This extraordinary , inexplicable part of who we are
The big, the little, the long, the short, the bus
An exciting, capricious part of the kid in us
The clunker , the hybrid, the grand Roles Royce
There are dozens, hundred, for your choice
Depending on the dinero ,the dollar, the pence in your purse
Or if your a CFO, a poet, or a lowly nurse (me!)
There are just the wheels out there for you
Be they black , green, white or shades of blue
To be sure we love, hate, enjoy the automobile
Yes, for almost all of us it has an addicting appeal....
If I shopped for my spouse like I shop for my automobile,
I’d be married to SMOKIN' RED HOT woman named Mercedes-
She’d wear black leather suits every day of the year,
and I’d show her off to all the other jealous ladies.
But…
If only my beloved Mercedes came with a button key,
I could turn her off and when I want I’D TURN HER ON!
We could drive zero to sixty in three point five seconds,
it really don’t matter as long as my Mercedes stays blonde!
And…
If she married me like I would marry a CLA-Class Benz,
My mission would have already been completed-
And then when we are on our sacred honeymoon,
ZERO to SIXTY on the beach would have to be repeated!
Finally…
If I shopped for my spouse like I shop for my automobile,
I’d make sure I’d pick someone with style and class-
Mercedes would most definitely have to be her name,
SMOKIN' RED HOT and chiseled, mixed with a lil’ bit of sass!
IF I SHOPPED FOR MY SPOUSE LIKE I SHOP FOR MY AUTOMOBILE
Cindi Rockwell
October 12, 2016
If I were in the market for
Another spouse, I would
Check out the database of specs
To make a choice that’s good.
My top criterion is that
I want my spouse to last.
A long time he should be with me
And not break down too fast.
I'd make him get a physical
To check for hidden leaks
And broken parts, to know what's wrong
If I hear that he creaks.
I’d look how much he needs to eat
And whether he requires
A super diet. Are there foods
Without which he expires?
Reliability is key -
I need dependable.
A man who is not there for me
Is just expendable.
What if he breaks or ails, can he
Be fixed without much pain?
Will it cost me an awful lot
To make him well again?
How does he sound? How does he smell?
How does he make me feel?
This will decide the final choice
Before I seal the deal.
But I already have a man
I picked a different way,
And I’m quite happy. So this list
I’ll use another day.
September 13, 2016
For contest: If I shopped for my spouse like I shop for my automobile
Sponsored by: Cindi Rockwell
I don’t want what everybody has, that’s just not for me,
I look for one that’s different, not everyone’s cup of tea.
She’s not red and loud and flashy, racing down the track;
She’s not afraid to get muddy, but still looks good in black.
I want to take her top off, so she’ll blow back my hair,
Wide open with the doors off, so I can feel the air.
I would take her places, beautiful and warm,
But take comfort in the knowledge, she drives well through a storm
We’d take the road less traveled, not fearing hill or ditch,
And scale the steepest mountain, regardless of the pitch.
We’d get good and dirty, discover brand new places;
With the flashes of the fireworks lighting up our faces.
Get the water steamy, tear a piece out of my shirt,
Work up a good lather and caress away the dirt.
I’d take such good care of her, work to make her shine,
Marvel at her sparkle, and smile because she’s mine.
The swish of some passing cars unnerving me still
With the rapid clack of my windshield wipers,
When, suddenly, I felt a most unwanted chill
Like the rapid hiss of a hundred captured vipers.
And I knew, at the worst time possible, my tire
Right front, passenger side, was now a crumble,
Just when my AAA card was about to expire,
So, I steered it to the berm feeling the flat rumble.
I sat sullen, waiting for the downpour to retire,
While several vehicles zip by me at ridiculous speeds
None of them, I understood, stopping to inquire
Why I was pulled over to the side … or my needs.
When the rain finally abated, and I shuffled outside
Four creaking vehicles stopped, offering me a ride!
written October 17, 2021
especially for "Onamatopoeia" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Emile Pinet
[Rhymes checked with rhymezone.com]
In ancient times when life appeared as swell,
with gorgeous wife and Chevy runnin’ fine,
there’d be no tale to share now where I tell,
uplifting stories ‘bout my sad decline.
It seems one morning gone completely mad,
I took the stairs up where our God resides,
then peed in his Cheerios somethin’ bad,
‘cuz now I live at mom’s ‘n hitch-hike rides.
Yet these are words expelled not from a bum,
but from an educated poet (hack),
and time has come for me to free this thumb,
from hidden places found around my back.
So what came first, the chicken or its egg?
I’ve sat and pondered now for sixteen weeks -
because to snag a chick ‘n make her beg,
I need a car that for me smoothly speaks.
BUT – because mom provides, I don’t need cash,
and since she does there’s no real need to work,
plus I’m still sad about my ex-wife’s dash,
which left me half the man and thrice the dork.
Unfairly screwed my plight now seems to be -
there’ll be no broad without a car to drive,
but wheels don’t roll on game-board currency,
and both are needed or I won’t survive.
Anyways, Bonnie, real quick ‘fore I shake –
(you’re my fav'rite ex-wife, oh by the way)
divorcing you remains my worst mistake,
so… let’s re-hitch and spare this dual dismay!
You’ve gained a few but I can look at you,
and I’d save money without child support;
Come down to Houston and let love renew!
(and help finance a brand-new Kia Sport).
10/7/16
An automobile
Run faster than a speed
A destiny's fate.
Before beginning my search,
I realize there are many models,
its not easy for anyone,
even a savvy girl.
Does he make me twirl,
will it be a throw of the dice,
I check out his "sticker price!"
Does he have a warranty to research?
I check out all of his review,
and his history in the world,
his finances, any crashes?
I am no mystic,
although not materialistic,
I have no intention of falling,
for a lemon, always stalling!
Is he a shining example to choose?
I will give him a test drive,
for a drive in the country,
down a highway we will roar.
See if he overheats,
does he have a cozy seat,
Okay, so all good so far it seems,
oh, yes he is my dream!
Any weird on line stuff still alive?
Has he a lifetime warranty, free!
Perhaps he will rust out before me,
perhaps he is not worth the price.
Well, I finally decide,
hope I got one with pride.
If not there is a trade in,
possibility, and then again I begin!
Oh, are you the right model, guy for me?
I promise to take care, I do,
to caress you every day,
to keep you out of rain and snow.
We will go out often too,
I will never leave you,
illegally parked, never will that be,
part of your life, my shining Cherokee!
Except if we crash, then you are history, adieu?
_______________________
October 5, 2016
Rhyme
(abcddeea rhyme scheme)
Rhyming checked on Rhymezone.com
For the contest, If I Shopped For My Spouse
Like I shopped For My Automobile,
sponsor, Cindi Rockwell
Sixth Place
In a town where one’s car MUST IMPRESS
I am in a permanent state of undress
Without said car
I don’t go far
When I leave my lair
I walk everywhere
There are cats I greet
Even a human or two I meet
I have become fit
Bit by bit
My temper no longer frays
On L.A.’s “free”-ways
I am unlikely to injure or be injured
By drivers bothered and bewildered
Surely my mandatory health insurance account
Deserves a discount?