Best Bumper To Bumper Poems
Pink inks of dawn glow
through a dissolving fog
lifting botanical shadows
alive with enchanting birds.
Rustling leaves stir the world awake.
Over the horizon a bustling city throbs,
a million or more people
going to their jobs,
missing this quiet solitude.
Radios thump. They drive
bumper to bumper,
eyes glued to the freeway.
Another jewel sunrise
slips right by them.
FLEEING IRMA
spotlight moon, full, like an Old Testament cloud, leading
Floridians forth, not into the desert, but away from the wrath
of Irma. bumper to bumper, neighbors from pilot to caboose,
illuminated in each other’s flood beams. testiness and pride
put aside, as fleeing cars, in camaraderie, brave the calm
before the storm. like the Israelites, they leave behind the
homes they know, put themselves in the hands of God. many
have family and friends north of their beloved peninsula,
an unintended visit, a warm haven, not a picnic nor a vacation,
but each pulls themselves up, for our Southern neighbors
are not of the craven sort. those who choose to live near the sea,
with its beauty and fortitude, know how to batten down the hatches.
hammocks left behind will tangle, and hug palm trees, suffering
the loss of their occupants. hotels, with never ending vacationers,
takes a much needed rest. God believes in rest, sometimes
a seven year sabbath, even when the soul forgets its place. we
pray, even north of the path, in stillness, we must, in gratitude,
never taking for granted, lest we too find ourselves seeking solace
elsewhere. godspeed our tanned Peninsula friends. godspeed
and bless, with safety, tenacity, and love as we reel you in.
9/8/2017
Once upon a time
In a land not so far
Lived a lead footed man
Alone with his car.
He longed to go fast
Speed flawlessly down the track
So he looked for a car
A Mustang in fact.
It was love at first sight
From bumper to bumper
He adored her sleek look
And got rid of his clunker.
The metallic silver hue
How she sparkles in the light
Those amazing blue headlamps
Just look killer at night.
The windows tinted dark
The car low to the ground
She’s sure to turn heads
While driving around.
She was built to go fast
She was built to go far
Not sit in some garage
Like an old man’s show car.
He steps on the gas
The engine begins to roar
The turbo whistles loud
As the rpms soar.
The excitement is great
His heart beats fast in his chest
Shifting through gears
This time will be his best.
He speeds by his opponent
The world goes by in a blur
To the young man
Winning is the best to occur.
He’ll be noted as great
By friends and other men
Then get back in the staging lane
To do it over again.
White Van Man
White van driver, he couldn’t give a damn
Oh how I wish that he would scram
From lofty heights he owns the road
He’s deft at signs sure to forebode
With cell in hand intent on chat
He swears at the driver wearing a hat
Coursing a path that’s bumper to bumper
Behind the woman, oh how he could thump her
His high sided vehicle sways this way and that
He’ll be there soon with foot down flat
He’s king of the motorway’s third lane
He’d love to shunt and scare, be a right bane
But to him his driving feels quite lame
He’s white van driver who feels no shame
A hotheaded madcap who loves to race
Carrying a smugness all over his face
When home he parks to own the street
Along with others, its quite a fleet
In the morn, he rises with the lark
Returning faithfully after its dark
He’s white van driver, he does what he likes
He tells his neighbours to get on their bikes
His majestic status is sure to be noted
Carrying an image to which he’s devoted
So white van man, you don’t give a damn
But I tell you squarely that you’re a right sham
Birdsong serenade
Sun beams streaming;
Abrupt illumination
~~~~~~~~~
Food mall gallery
Tempting flavours;
Sensational buzz
~~~~~~~~~
Busy feet scatter
Muddy puddles;
Rain water gushing
~~~~~~~~~
Humid weather burns
Dehydrated faces;
Scotching heatwave
~~~~~~~~~
Severe flu bout
Head dizzy drowsy;
Coughing frustration
~~~~~~~~~
By this bench
Watch busy people;
Pursuing taut agendas
~~~~~~~~~
City fringe footpath
Workday buzz zigzags;
Toils and pursuits
~~~~~~~~~
Old couple walking
Stop to review signposts;
Figuring the way home
~~~~~~~~~
Old man sits here
Watching each day;
No one for company
~~~~~~~~~
Curious brown squirrel
Searching up and down;
Ancient tree trunk
~~~~~~~~~
Movie glimpses
Home entertainment;
Siesta comes quick
~~~~~~~~~
Walking meditation
Silent mantra chant;
Focus frames feelings
~~~~~~~~~
Bumper to bumper
City traffic moves;
Slower than snails
~~~~~~~~~
Drama flings
Melodrama curves;
Afternoon matinee
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
04 May 2016
Singapore
Five PM - A Jungle
Tires screeching,
Fan belts squealing,
Bumper to bumper,
Crawling like snails,
Horns blaring,
Engines raring,
Poison spewing,
Tempers flaring,
People Swearing,
Sweat dripping,
Predators on the loose,
Darting in and out,
Running traffic lights,
Scurrying here and there,
Police in hibernation,
Five PM - It's a Jungle!
The Hurricane was Harvey
By Franklin Price
8/31/2017
The hurricane was Harvey, what an unassuming name
Left the western Yucatan. across the Gulf he came
Building up his power to a category four
Slammed into the Texas coast with wind, and rain, and more
Coming into Rockport with winds one thirty some
Evacuate or hunker down, to damage he has come
He leveled many buildings, and shut the power down
He sent his rains to Houston, to sit there and to pound
Houston, a large city, fourth largest in the land
Rained so hard, in hours, was no dry place to stand
Rained a record fifty inches, that's the Roman numeral L
Overflowed the bayous, made life a living hell
Few had evacuated, of six million people plus
Would have been impossible, a traffic jamming fuss
Bumper to bumper everywhere with auto, truck and bus
Would even make the best of us, wring our hands and cuss
The water rose, it did not stop, covered roads from fork to fork
More area than the cities of Chicago and New York
No one quite expected Harvey to sit and pour
Until the first floors flooded and headed for the second floor
Water, many places, flowing fast and overhead
Rescue workers needed or thousands would be dead
Boats and trucks and copters came to do the work
Reminiscent of the rescue, of the soldiers, at Dunkirk
The heroes came from everywhere, left their families and friends
To risk their lives for others, and the rescuing begins
Hour after hour, from rooftops, trees and cars
Stranded ones were rescued by strangers from afar
The Cajun Navy from Louisian, the governor called the guard
Florida sent their Fish and Game, rescuing long and hard
Soon more than thirty thousand were brought to drier land
Rescuers so exhausted that they could hardly stand
Still they kept on going on helping all of those in need
And took them to the shelters where they could sleep and feed
Some died in the effort, not all in need were found
Some rescuers gave their all, and no longer are around
This is what life is all about, the way that it should fall
We should respond to others' needs, for the better good of all
Think about your fellow man, in all you do and say,
Don't be the Harvey victim, be the rescuer today.
Men at work, bumper to bumper
tensile traffic, thick black bitumen.
Everything seems to last longer
then that grey granulated concrete
that extends from Bodega, Cali-
fornia to Savannah, Georgia.
Blacktop pot-fill smells like
the solid and searing work of roofers;
hardhat knuckle down workers,
men that stretch skyscraper towers,
or suspend themselves over
the ledge of the Golden Gate Bridge.
If only this endless line of steel
on rubber wheels could steam roll
past the frustrated flashing lights
and pinstriped lattes honking horns.
If only these orange jump suites,
(sloth shaped men on armrest shovels,)
spent less time blathering like this poem,
we’d all be able to get to work.
Every morning, I work from home
I turn on the radio, if I'm unhappy and alone
You hear so much misery when the car jams are told
Make you feel happier, if you're mean and cold
The outbound George has a disabled tractor trailer
Some drivers now are cursing like a sailor.
On the inbound Holland there is police activity
Imagine all those slowed drivers, it's like captivity.
(chorus)
There are people who like pulling tails of cats
Others freakout Grandma by attaching bells to bats
But me, I enjoy the misfortune of those who drive
Comparing our fates makes me feel more alive.
On the Pulaski skyway it's a waiting game
I bet Mr. Pulaski would have not delegated his name.
Its bumper to bumper after Passaic Avenue
I bet those drivers are steaming too.
At the exit ramp an accident partly blocks
That teen driver just learned life has hard knocks.
Heavy delays, so many drivers annoyed
But the traffic jams give me Schadenfreude.
The Lincoln backs into Weehawken tight,
They’ve been stuck in that tunnel since about midnight
Makes you wonder, and contemplate
Or if you're like me, you feel really great.
Add up all the lost hours of lives
No need for bombs, no need for knives
Time that could have been used for better things
All the waste, we should have wings.
You know that feeling at the airport
Watching passengers arrive
As you’re about to board?
Or at a restaurant
Asking for the check
As the guy at the other table is about
To devour a 28 ounce Prime Aged Porterhouse steak?
What about when you’re leaving the beach
Sunburned & sizzling after many hours under the scorching sun
Observing fresh incoming beachgoers unload their gear…or
On the highway,
Stuck in a bumper to bumper traffic
While others drive briskly back home
On the opposite lane…
What’s that called?
Caution:
Do not attempt to remove yourself.
You have incurred the penalty
Of my undying devotion.
My heart and soul are clamped to yours.
Removal could mean a huge fine.
You are so fine, I find.
Get your engine in gear
And accompany me.
Give me ideas above my station.
You have been found
Obstructing my peace of mind.
I may just tow you home,
Bumper to bumper,
And let you park your chassis
Really close to mine.
My fine
Valentine.
My Modern Age Reality
The daily commute a daily grind
Bumper to bumper you will find
Asking “are you out of your mind”
Hoping to spot someone that is kind
Road rage is now the new adage
To get where you’re going at this stage
Maybe this can be forestalled with courage
Though that is wishful thinking at this age
My child in the back seat
She’s my daily joy when I do pick her up and we meet
Her arms outstretched as if to greet
Though the morning drop off isn’t so neat
A woman in a job no less
That a man used to do my guess
Why does it feel so thankless
Although that paycheck is a bliss
At the end of a long day I just want to rest
But hubby dear has announced a guest
Shopping, cooking, cleaning is now my quest
After all we want to show our best
The closing of the door and a big sigh
Tells me that bedtime is nigh
But first tidy up both low and high
Maybe it’s worth a hug from my big guy
My head comes to rest on the pillow
A last glance out the window at the willow
And a snuggle with mine bedfellow
Leads to a day’s afterglow
That’s all I have for today’s sideshow
Andreas Simic©
Journey to Tranquility
As I nestle into the seat of my
Far from new mode of transport
I steel myself for the journey ahead
In my mind I plan out the route for this day
I'm sure bumper to bumper was invented here
There will be that slow crawl up the parkway
This will turn into the raceway as we hit the expressway
Where I let her go
Road rage is the new adage
So one must be aware not to stare or glare
This gauntlet must be run to arrive alive
Success here brings relief
As we turn onto a highway of only two lanes
Gains can be made though watch for deer
Home after home turns into farm land
As the lights of the city disappear
Another left, then one more with pavement
Becomes gravel for many a mile
Don’t go too far there it is on the right
A smile appears as it comes into sight
The scurry of a fox across the driveway
The chirp of birds as you exit the car
The smell of a lake and its shore
You are at the cottage and tranquility galore
It is worth the drive every time.
Andreas Simic©
Just jumping in.
Everything comes to a halt.
The first few moments don't seem as bad.
Depending on length.
The line of cars.
In a sea of metal
Something wow happens.
Metal crashes into metal.
Causally passing by.
Everyone is okay.
Making sure to see what happened
They drop speed.
The police attempt to make it through to the scene.
Little to no debris.
No never-mind to the expensive cars brought to a halt.
The Mercedes Benz, the Porsche out of place slow moving along.
A Black Nissan Sentra with two kids playing in the backseat.
The other side is free to go as they please.
Compared to most places this is nothing.
Try New York. Atlanta. Texas to name a few.
You just jump in, moving from point A to B.
Life is admittedly too short to walk a great distance.
A two car pileup a few miles ahead.
Bumper to bumper no one gives space to breathe.
A Cadillac honks in frustration.
The Black Nissan honks back in attempt to get over.
Inching closer to maneuver it's way in front.
After everyone takes a glance at the pileup.
Traffic is back to normal.
The two kids continue to play like nothings happened
CHOKE POINT
Our roads are at choke point
as traffic descends into gridlock chaos.
Cars, lorries, buses and vans
all bumper to bumper in a traffic
jam ten miles long. This is a vision
of the technological world
in which we live where both man
and machine grind to a halt.