Best Automotive Poems
Climb inside and buckle in
Anxiously twisting the key
As a mechanical symphony roars to life
Setting nine hundred horses free
The machine becomes an extension
Of my own flesh and bone
My heart beats in choppy rhythm
While eight cylinders scream in tone
Launch sequence initiated
The green bulb’s affirmative glare
Release one button as I depress another
The front tires suspend in mid air
The mechanical cavalry stampedes
While the pipes cry out their siren song
Defiantly embedding rubber into asphalt
Parallel stripes running dark and long
Every gear change seemingly effortless
Acceleration that flattens your chest
Control of the beast seems impossible
While every sense is put to the test
Heads swivel and jaws drop open
The earth quakes as I roll past
Vanishing into the darkness
Redefining the meaning of “fast”
For I have stared fear in the face
While others stood back and leered
I stomped my right foot in defiance
And clicked down to a lower gear
This - the Divine Unity
Of Man and his Machine
In water we may be baptised
But in horsepower we are redeemed
Have you ever gone out to the garage, slid behind the wheel of that Bowtie, twisted the key and lit off that big Rat …
Rolled out to the middle of the culdesac, two clicks down into low, left foot over the brake while you slowly depress with the right ...
And just as the squeal of the tires begins to stir the neighbors, you hammer the accelerator until it starts to dimple the sheet metal in the floor beneath ...
You see Bill come running out his front door just as you lose sight of his house in the rearview thru the billowing clouds of white smoke now forming ...
Mothers rush to scoop up their children and pull them to safety as you slowly release your left foot and begin to have to steer now to keep her straight ...
Wheel to the left, then to the right, as you start to pick up forward momentum, while watching the tach bounce around the redline and then slowly start to fade downward ...
The smoke entering the car's interior starts to burn your eyes as you squint and struggle to keep your focus on the now hazy landscape ...
Right hand ratchets up once into second as the rear tires continue to scream in protest and things start to speed by with just a little more urgency than moments before ...
Finally she starts to hook and the G's start to press against your chest as you hesitate, take in a small breathe, and then click up one more gear ...
The steering wheel feels light in your hands as you tighten your grip and, even though the smoke has vacated the interior, you still struggle to see clearly due to your pupils being flattened by the blinding rate of acceleration ...
Finally, unwillingly, you lift, as better judgement overcomes raw desire ...
Three blocks later the tires have cooled and the smoke has dissipated, but your heart rate is still 30 beats faster than normal ...
And as you sit at the red light, you take a deep breath to try to regain some composure and glance over to the little old lady in the Caprice next to you ...
And you say to yourself ...
“You think she wants to run?"
I ain't about to reveal th' month an' year that I wuz born,
But here's a clue, cars than sported an ooogah, ooogah horn!
To start th' motor required enthusiastic spinnin' uv a crank!
On th' rutted roads, its ride wuz comparable to that uv a tank!
Cars had many levers an' pedals fer th' shiftin' uv th' gears.
To git movin' required th' savvy uv a platoon uv engineers!
No fancy radial tires er anti-lock brakes to bring it to a stop,
Nor air bags er seat belts to ease th' pain if it landed on its top!
Nowadays, cruisin' is cool with stereo music pleasin' to th' ear.
Th' engine roared an' Ma nagged frum th' rear seat in yesteryear!
Model-A Fords boasted a seat in th' rear called a rumble seat.
Th' kids an' dogs delighted in ridin' there, considerin' it a treat!
Pa found th' hand signals needed to stop an' turn very confusin'!
Th' kids an' other drivers on th' road thought this most amusin'!
Today's sedans provide a signal light to warn what ya' intend to do,
Without hangin' an arm out th' winder, yer intent hard to construe!
Mister Ford offered a choice uv colors as long as it wuz black.
Today ya' kin opt th' colors uv th' rainbow, if'n ya' have th' jack!
Cruisin' at seventy miles per in my sleek, air conditioned car,
My thoughts drift back to when autos were really quite bizarre!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Like many before me, my Empire began
As but a passionate boy’s dream
They said risks outweigh the reward
Or, at least, so it would seem
I immersed myself in knowledge
Every action and reaction honed
From the classrooms to the boulevards
Each day fitting the next stone
Then the day finally came
To step up and take that great leap
And begin an incredible journey
Knowing well it would be no easy feat
But word of my endeavor traveled
And men came from near and across the sea
I opened the doors to my Cathedral
And invited them all in to see
Many came to worship
Brethren together the only rule
At an altar born from steel and chrome
Incense the aroma of rubber and raw fuel
We gorged our mechanical desires
Repeated stories of guts and grit
Carrying the torch of automotive redemption
Assuring every candle remained lit
Some donated their internals
So that others could live on
Some found a new lease on life
And sadly, some were too far gone
Dreams of vehicular expression
Were baptized with blood and sweat
Blessings obtained by nods of approval
And jealous whispers under their gasping breathe
The sands of time have now swept away
Most all remnants of that mythical place
But relics take form in our memories and tall tales
And in Hot Rod History is The Junkman encased
Alive, yet shaken to the
core of her lovely bones
youngest offspring unexpectedly
lost control of vehicle and groans
papa unable to comfort her,
she inconsolable sobbing tears
muffling thru telephones
safe and sound nonetheless
shook up like rolling stones.
Though dwelling bajillion miles away
in Bend Oregon beloved daughter
endearing supportive words
I tried to say
aware sullen mood
fifty plus shades of gray
impossible mission
to assuage grievous
state, especially cuz
accompanying passengers
namely my sister,
and Dunning family did display
anger at recklessness,
though harsh words
merely exacerbated upset
lass - earlier today
August seventh two
thousand nineteen flay
grant over cockiness
best appeased with je
nais sais quois gentle
kindness versus reprobation,
yet quite aware
castigating shrieks nee,
livid rage reflexive from
kid sister otherwise mellow
nonetheless hardpressed
regarding this fellow
to envision ordinarily
calm, cool and collected
sibling to rage and soulfully bellow,
yet informed charming product begat
courtesy mine biological
flesh and blood no
benefit arises to chastise
i.e. figurative flagellation
pinging hither and yon to and fro
but eternally thankful no loss of life...
whew, this dada would never know
reason nor rhyme
to continue livingsocial
purposefulness would heighten grow
wing suicidal ideation - I haint joe
king absolute zero
willpower to write poe
whit tree and/or flash fiction
decidedly, essentially, fervently toe
tilly tubular lee mein
kampf spirit bro
kin, analogous to falling off
skyhigh wall apropos
bailing out hatch of airplane
minus parachute gratefully dead
upon impact resembling red jello
splattered, the closest
aye attain tubby jiggle oh.
A rental car ought be comfy
not crimped, cramped or bumpy
Oohs and Aahs ~ save them for pageants
Roominess now mine; you keep the combatants
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