Best Cabbie Poems
Think you can control me? Control my words?
They are oozing and bubbling already, and not your direction.
Control me?
I laugh. I scoff. I sing. I throw my bags in a taxi. I am gone.
But wait a second I tell the cabbie. I run back in.
To get in the last word.
I throw it onto your face. It grabs your cheeks and squeezes.
My next sentence punches your gut. It hurts you. Devastates you.
Just a second! I yell out the window to the cab driver.
Just one more second! I throw a paragraph.
She jumps into your astonished open mouth and she hurts your gums.
She hurts you like you hurt me, only worse.
No. That would be impossible. I hear the cabbie honking.
Stick out my tongue and turn to go.
Words come out of your mouth now.
Stinging, mean, ugly, unkind, awful words.
I run from the house and jump into the cab.
I wish I could have stayed to see your face as you read my note.
But the cab driver might have driven off with my bags
and my notebooks are in there. All of them. I only left you one page.
With a torn off side. And little pieces that fell onto the floor.
I will miss the dog. Nothing else.
You can have my clothes.
I could not fit but one pair of panties in my suitcase anyway.
The poems are all here. This is all I will ever want.
Van Gogh refused my cigarette, ‘No thanks, I’ve got one ear’
*
The zoo wanted some antelope but they were just two deer
*
I offered the cabbie some chewing gum, he said do you think that’s fare
*
Why did Adam eat the apple when Eve had a lovely pear
*
The tyrant banned men in white shirts: people are going to dye
*
He claimed to have some caustic soda, was that some kind of Lye
*
The ageing mechanic removed the wheel, he was ready to re-tyre
*
Robin Hood was livid, the donuts were in the friar
*
A starving woman’s fave celebs are bound to be ‘has beans’
*
Men just seem to like her, is it something in her jeans
*
My search for water in the haunted woods ended in a creak
*
Folk are stealing mountains, should we take a peak
*
I’m spraying herbs with weed-o-cide: I’m only killing thyme
*
The mountaineer was chilly, he preferred a sunny clime
once an old cabbie named fred
had a nose that glowed bright red
when a call from a bar
put an elf in his car
and now he leads santas sled.
After finishing a seminar based on demand and supply,
I walked out to the street and hailed a taxi going by,
and as I sat down in the seat, the taxi driver said to me,
‘my, my, your timings perfect, you are just the same as Terry.’
I must admit he had me thinking, so of course I answered ‘Who?’
‘Terry Parker’ said the cabbie; a bloke it’s obvious he knew.
‘Yeah, anything that Terry did, he was right on every score,
he lived with perfect timing and Terry never had one flaw.’
I had never met a bloke like Terry, so I’m wary of the fact,
so I subtly gave me answer in a way most would react,
‘None of us are perfect mate,’ but the cabbie did insist
That Terry, he was faultless, and so few like him exist.
I heard that Terry was an athlete with the most amazing skills,
His golfing matched the pros, and his tennis playing simply thrills,
he could sing like Johnny Cash; and even better so I’m told,
he danced like Fred Astaire; his piano playing…simply gold.
I could only think he must be special, this Terry Parker bloke,
and the cabbie uttered ‘hang on,’ and once again he spoke,
‘there’s more to Terry yet, you see his memory never failed,
he remembered every birthday, and every one detailed.
‘He was a connoisseur on beer, and knew everything ‘bout wine,
He knew how to serve the finest foods; all simply pure divine.
And if anything needs fixing, then Terry was your shining light,
he was streets ahead of me, ‘cause I can’t do nothing right.
‘He could always read the traffic, and you’d never find him stuck,
not like me when I am driving, for I had none of Terry’s luck,
and I ought to mention women, and how he made them feel so good,
he was the ideal gentleman; he treated women how I should.
‘Terry would never answer back, even if the woman’s wrong,
he was a charming butler, and his charisma it was strong,
he kept his house immaculate, as no other person can…
no one could measure up; Terry Parker was the perfect man.’
When I reached my destination but before I stepped outside,
I paid the driver what was due, and then I thanked him for the ride,
but I thought it best I mention, at more or less a parting whim,
‘this Terry Parker is remarkable, how did you get to meet him?’
The driver took my money, and then he muttered deep and slow,
‘Actually I never met him, but I’m married to his widow.’
Cabbie with A Heart
This latest news about a selfless taxi driver…
The kindness out of his heart is a source for wonder ….
In the daily business of ferrying his charges for a fee…
He works long hours , morning till dusk before going off free ….
As a family man like any other, he provides for his family with his daily takings..…
Time is ever precious, more ferrying means better daily earnings…
Just as any other hard working Malaysian, he always there to give service…
Doing his utmost best each day in providing a transportation service…
For a working man such as he, where time and his service means money…
It surprises to know this taxi driver willingly sacrifices his time and money….
All for an aged yet loving couple, who are yet to be classified as senior citizens..
Who are only in their late forties and yet the woman has chronic kidney disease…
This stricken woman requires a thrice-a-week treatment at the dialysis center….
The fare is an exorbitant RM30 to pay even if the center is but a short drive away
It is always a trying time to hail for a taxi willing to take them to the center..
For the word is out that they are unable to pay the full fare, even not at all..
One fine day, as they scoured in vain for a taxi to take them to the center..…
Up came Mr Jong, an elderly and sprightly taximan, willing to ferry them over…
The kind hearted soul in him accepts only RM20 for his service, if possible..
He’s such a good man, giving discounted rides and payments in installments..
Taxi driver Jong, 61 years old, thinks he is doing something simple…
Out of the goodness in his heart, he is now on their call three times-a-week…
It matters not, Jong wisely observes, I am Chinese and they are Malays in need…
God willing, I will stay healthy and I trust them to pay me when they able indeed..
So fellow Malaysians, do marvel at this display of humanity on the streets…
There are countless other good deeds being played out that are not called to heed…
But this episode runs contrary to the prejudices and the mistrust on racial lines..
It calls for brotherhood love, as the same colored blood runs common beneath our skins..
http://www.thestar.com.my/news/nation/2015/12/16/a-kind-and-caring-taxi-driver-cabbie-drives-couple-to-dialysis-centre-without-expecting-payment/
Life has a rythm, even in confusion
Listen to the beat, feel it's profusion
Boom dity boom clankity clunk
I close my eyes, I feel the funk
Street car screeching, footsteps on ground
Pop bottle dropping, glass breaking sound
Voices rise and fall, cabbie screams out loud
Anger frustration from demonstrating crowd
Honking horns, join the symphony
Leaves rustling, exhaust blowing on tree
Boom box beating, dancers getting down
To some song, called Monkey Town
Children giggle, running down the street
Flip flops slapping, beat beat beat
Lost in the sounds, swirling around
That's why New York, is my kinda town
In the cab, upon the seat,
I spot an iPhone 5.
I hand it to the cabbie
Just as he begins to drive.
In minutes, it begins to ring.
An agitated voice
Says, “Bring the phones to my hotel,”
Not giving any choice.
“I’m leaving for the airport NOW.
My phones I really need!”
The cabbie says he’ll drive on by,
A real do-gooder deed.
Then suddenly another ring
Proceeds from in the rear.
The guy said phones, a plural,
So another must be near.
Voila! Behind my husband’s back
A second phone I find.
The cabbie takes it, drops us off,
Reunion on his mind.
I surely hope he makes it
And the phone guy makes his flight.
The cabbie earned a giant tip
If all works out all right.
It’s lucky I’m an honest sort
‘Cause I could not ignore
The fact that both those phones
Were better than my iPhone 4!
Times had turned to worse after my dad left, and after their fight of many fights !
I hear him say to mama, "I am going to the store and he slam-mss the front door..
...and he is gone...(poor) mom...she will see him...no more.." (Now) we - yes...the
three of us, that is..my (Lil) brother....John-Boy, Mom and I. (Hi) my name is Wesley, and
this is my story. "As a....Angel came from.....Glory{!!}.."
With two hungry mouths to feed, there wasn't no other choice but to packup what little
we had and just leave. From the rigid-tundra of E.Orange, NJ...andso we hopped on a
big Greyhound (bus) and mama say that we were on our way to Jacksonville, FL to
Gran-Ma....Rachelle house. Immediately I felt like smilling, and john-boy say's some-
thing in little kid language as I tell him where we're headed too. But within an hour
into our trip...john-boy is peacefully asleep and so was I when we gets to grann-nie
house as me myself took a lil-man nap and granny comes joyfully running to the cab
and she snatches..."the little raskel from momms grip...(saying)...Julie give me my baby!"
She hands the cabbie some money ($$) and hushered us into the house where there's the smell of good-ole-southern fried chicken and a large (4)gal. pitcher of
lemonade that's already prepared. Alone w/chocalate cake...yes-3 layers of cake-cov
ered w/thick lumpy frosting, and did I mention...absolutely...deee-licciii-ious.." "Momm
(complained) aaah-h Mama..you did not have to go through all this trouble, just for us..!"
"Hhhuss-ss hush your mouth (julie) cause I luv's to cook for all of my gran-babies say's
grann-niee...Chelle." "And that's...Straight-UP." They both (laughts) haaa-ha...{!!!}.."
The sertraline queen of New Orleans
Getting high on her brandy and coke.
Perched on a bar stool, surveying the scene,
While she lights up another smoke.
Tom Waits is playing on the radio
“In the neighbourhood”, plodding and slow.
Nicotine clouds drift across the stained bar
TV blinks in the corner, like a flickering star.
Sitting proud and upright in her red and white dress
Black shiny stilettoes, dressed to impress.
Flicks open her compact, with lips pursed and tight
She sharpens her edges, this new socialite.
Here she can be whomever she wants
Pick her own style, choose her own fonts.
Not just a mother, a daughter, a wife
Now a bohemian, pulsing with life
Redrawing her outline, sensing her form.
He tried to erase her, now she’s reborn.
Once bound with threats, with ropes made from fear.
But now she was free. He wasn’t here.
No more would she be stifled,
Excluded and erased,
Nor stand upon South Portland Bridge
Convinced she couldn’t be saved.
The barman gives her a sideways look
As he towel dries another glass.
He says “Do you want another one love ?
Or will that be your last ? ”
She sighs to see her black cab pull up
On the rain drenched, Glasgow Street.
“I’ll just have one for the road” she says
“But you better make it neat.”
Raincoat around her shoulders,
Collar pulled up to her chin,
She opens the glistening cab door
And nestles deep within.
“Where are ye headed ? Tis nae night for a walk”
Asked the cabbie, in time honoured patter,
“Just take me to anywhere else” she said,
“Keep on driving, the place doesn’t matter"
The Sertraline Queen of New Orleans
Watches tenements slip out of sight
Cheek pressed to the window of the steamed up cab
That delivers her back to the night ……………
Degree for him or ye
Here in Australia we educate,
People from the nearby states,
Sometimes passes do get through,
When cousin Irma scores for you,
They pay their way and get good marks,
Especially, if feeding the smarter sharks,
Our cabbie, Afghannies look alike,
Who knows whose licence you will strike,
But all in all, they do the jobs,
Language barrier, baffles snobs,
Few Aussies in the mob,
No speak, the enterprising
Sponsor Natalie :)
Contest Name Genius or Criminal?
9-sep-11
T Tips are adding up fast
A And you can see the meter rolling hard
X 'Xasperating to watch your hard earn money being spent
I It might be better to not see how many accidents you have almost had
C Cabbie drives wrecklessly, through two inch spaces,
A Afraid for your life, you clutch the door, and the seat ahead of you
B But you are not there yet, and you are in New York City
D Deliberate attempts to kill you have not been successful yet
R Racing heart, you dare not look away, from your final destination
I In the throes of scary, you are terrified you are going to be smashed up
V Vigorous driving, fast paced, then slamming on the brakes, wham. Whip.
E Enthusiastic smiles from the man who has your life in his hands.
R Relieved you have arrived in one piece, deciding never again.
American visit2
L A came and we went and came,
Bought a car just off a cabbie,
Took off driving it around,
Wrong side the wheel for driving, Laddie,
Went an saw old Mickey Mouse,
Go right, stay right, she’s saying. (wife Christine))
Looked at the Mary Queen,
Spruce goose on one night, displaying,
Feels real strange in left side of car,
All those years of driving right,
Highway driving was ok,
Intersections are a fright,
Bounded into the Pizza Hut,
Out there in Arkansaw,
7 foot tall were the big dark guys,
And the shielas 6 foot all,
“Jus like Crocodile Dundee” she said,
Movie was just now out,
They loved our accent, with pizza fed,
Missississippi, crossed no doubt?
Graceland went, saw the gold records,
Aeroplanes In the yard,
Jungle room, drive in movie, the cars,
Yes Elvis rocks so hard.
Rubber band went flop ,
Timing belt in the car,
Sold it to the wrecker Jock,
Caught the dog hurrah,
Greyhound jerked us back across the nation,
Green shirts arrested me
Near El Paso said “are you American”
“Just an Aussie lation.”
Passport got me out of strife,
And Dallas we passed through,
Back to LA same motel n wife,
Caught a Kiwi plane home too…
Don Johnson
Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
Contest Name "HOLIDAY HEARTH"
Air Force One has crashed into Manhattan.
To get the president out, it takes a special man.
For success in this task, there is quite a bit of doubt.
Once I go in this place, I should not come out.
The whole island is a maximum security prison.
I get a full pardon if I succeed in this mission.
The police have saddled me with some heavy loads.
There are twenty-four hours before this bomb explodes
This microscopic explosive is in my carotid artery.
The Duke of New York holds the president in captivity.
He has already lost a finger to the Duke's untamed savagery.
For help, I have Brain and his girl Maggie.
Another inmate helping me is someone known as “Cabbie”.
There is something else important that I must get.
Secrets of nuclear fusion are recorded on a cassette.
I have to get this and the president to safety.
I hope the president likes to listen to “Bandstand Boogie”.
Based on the 1981 film "Escape From New York"
Church Architects
Steeple
People
Jailhouse Clothier
Jailor
Tailor
Navy Misfits
Failing
Sailiing
Imposter Chef
Baker
Faker
Fat Taxi Driver
Flabby
Cabbie
April 12, 2021
for Brian Strand's All Yours (Apr 14) Poetry Contest
Vegetarian fox offered his services to me.
The other bunnies said no until they knew he was free.
He’s a cabbie, I said, and he takes all kinds about.
They watched him carefully for years with bunny minds full of doubt.
Vegetarian fox finally asked us for a dollar a night.
The bunnies refused, they are incredibly tight.
Since we get paid ten for each gig that we do,
I took it out of their salaries, and I paid the fox two.