Best Cars Poems
A Curtain of Rain
By Valerie D. Staton
A curtain of rain
Fell from graphite colored sky…
Cars are floating by
My '90 Dodge Daytona sat
Broken down
On Horseblock Road.
We hitchhiked east
To Kelly’s induction,
Embarrassingly tardy.
The trucks were leaving
Ashes were spreading
And 16 people stood
Broken down
Outside the service.
Sean, Laura and I approached.
We made 19
Peers in formal wear
Feuding for space
Between 2 cars. Packed with living friends,
We found our way back home.
Sean’s flag stood through his window,
Guiding and mediating,
So nowadays I try to reason with atheists.
I’ll never forget returning to my Dodge.
It started and drove without a flaw,
And I felt like I had aced a test.
The ice swirled around in a dangerous way
Tossing cars willy nilly into each other and concrete bridges
I marveled at her confidence and power
Hoping I was not going to slide into the two wrecked cars in front of me
She gave me a tiny spin, showing me that I had no control at all.
She grinned at me in her icy blackness
It was the last thing I saw.
Contest: A Short Metaphorical Poem
Sponsor: Bobby May
Written 11-4-2019
Chasing Cars 3
You can drown in smoke
In huge breaths
Sucked in on the choke
Of ever wishing air
And you can lay yourself bare
Your soul on the concrete
Spread before the stare
Of every loving heart
Its not that I see
Not the pain in me
Not the hammer that crashes me constantly
Into you
This mirror I hold
Everything I do know
Turns the reflection of your eyes always
Into mine
Can you see
How you break me
Shatter me into the rainbows
Of the every word of love
“All that I am
“All that I ever was
“Is laying in your perfect eyes
“And they’re all I can see
If you feel lost
Then I wander in the same step
My feet can’t find a single path
Not without you
And though I hold true
Stronger by the gift of you
Still I huddle in the same corner
Contemplating the worst of me
How can this really be me
It just falls out of me
Into a pool of tears
“And if I lay there
“If I just lay there
“Would you lay with me
“And just forget the world
Would you hold on to me
The desperate strength you need to be
And turn with me
Out to face the world
Has this cut me as far as you know
These gouges deep in my soul
Bleed out their martyrdom
Just for you
It shakes me to the core of who I am
As I stand here in the darkness
And reach out my hand
To you
“All that I am
“All that I ever was
“Is laying in your perfect eyes
“And they’re all I can see
Stanzas six, ten and fourteen taken from “Chasing Cars”
By Snow Patrol
With much respect and many thanks
one day, I saw a car going by
with my fourteen-year-old self in the driver's seat.
he wasn't even the one driving the car.
it was hate that was driving the car,
fueling the car,
steering the car,
because the car was a vessel for the thoughts crammed in that trunk
which acts as the engine
the engine was in the back of the car.
that's right; it was the type of car that goes really fast
except when you're stuck in traffic
then you're on the same speed as everyone else.
but there was no traffic
there was nothing stopping the car
the car traveled at the speed of light,
but you see, the thing with traveling at the speed of light,
is that it's hard to stop, easy to lose control,
and time flies away with you,
no matter how little you enjoy the ride.
one day, I was passing by a car wreck
two cars of the same type,
same color,
same age,
the hoods perfectly crushed into each other
the windshields making contact
and I looked at the boy from earlier,
and saw that he had aged four years.
The cars we have number twenty-five.
One is shaped like a royal bee hive.
Two are groovy, the blue one can certainly jive!
The red monster truck seems to be alive.
One is automatic and can self-propel-drive.
Jogger came by and asked my Cousin Chive,
Why are all these cars parked in front of that dive?
He chased him up the driveway in car twenty-five.
The car must become a freethinker
Case someone it might greatly injure
It clearly must steer
And brake and change gear
And give other bad drivers the finger
Hmmm self driving cars... kinda scary
It'll take some getting used to for the very wary
It'll certainly take trust
Open mindedness is a must
Won't be first in line, seems kinda hairy
© Jack Ellison 2016
If you see
a man opens
the car door
for a woman ....
He certainly has
a brand new car ...
or a very young
and beautiful mistress
His pride ...
a conquest ...
the gleaming varnish
reminds him of
sensual red woman lips
Excite shining
in his eyes -
you will always
be his number two
13.01.2014
A-L Andresen :))
“Chasing Ghosts in Cars”
Like automata
we walk inside
winding up the stairs
it’s all mechanical
the romance
programmed
by steep degrees
in the
well-routined
we can walk
through walls
anywhere
to look out
our windows
towards the better view
each cell in the body
and mind renewed
we expurgate
the misplaced
misconceptions
of others, of ourselves
it’s fair-weather sailing
out there,
the transparent come and go
best to turn
a blind eye
a swift kiss on the cheek
make it brief
then close all
your doors
to their artful dodger hauntings
friendships and felicitations
their joyful gleaming commiserations
whole oceans
full of souls
walking and swimming
treading water
all the floating
poesies planted
mindfully fragrant
fresh bits thrown
parlayed introspection
deliciously blooded with the sharks
such hungry poets
with a well-adjusted
deep knowing
and a quiet
unthorough
understanding
of another
unknown equation
in the real world
never making
premature
judgements
outside is a risk
we all take
we write what we know
we know what we write
ghost written
in the Daily Phantom
in the gloaming fantasy
there still exist
real ghouls calling us in
hungry for kindness
burying pity for
the honesty it lacks
inside we are listing
the volume we turn up
to hear messages better
we are
listening
to cars
lyrics
we wish you
to know
to be understood
when you are
chasing ghosts
some say
they’ve gone too far
they’re too far gone away
forget-me-knots
hanging loose
chasing ghosts in cars
Machiavellians
gone astray
the naked minds
of
undressed nuns
and
sanctimonious preachers
oiling their guns
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live in cars
Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days in cars”
listing/nautical.
“Listing” is a nautical term to describe when a vessel takes on water and tilts to one side. A ship can list either to port (left) or starboard (right). By contrast, a ship is said to be “trimming” when she tips forward or backward.
My love cars
My first rendezvous
was Honda Civic iVtec
black automatic,
1799 cc, 4 cylinders
130 bhp, torque 172Nm,
Stole my heart
speed bound no limits,
Left me for a new owner.
Shunning loneliness,
Magnetised by
his macho shape
and pearl white colour,
Graceful eye to eye
luxurious costume,
I let his lusty belt
embrace my waist,
One button start
and we were together
Adrenaline gush
to a four by four,
Off road
over tough terrain
wondered his guts....
2800 cc, 4 cylinders
178 bhp, torque 350Nm,
Pajero Mitsubishi
my passion SUV.
Five years later
as it betrayed,
My heart cried
Grief of parting .....
Toyota Fortuner
my next fortune,
D- 4D, inter cooler
Turbocharger 2982 cc
168 bhp, Torque 343 Nm
Walked into my life
tough milky white,
Hugged me dear
wiped my tears,
My next love
its exquisite walk,
I try to escape those
Green eyed monsters
those road runners....
One Land Rover
Range Rover evoque
is now eying at me,
Waiting for
another heartbreak....
Written Dec 30th, 2015
For contest "Write about cars"
Sponsor - PD A
Awarded 10th place win
just dots upon
the greenwich sky
swinging london
from the air
with eyes wide shut
and riding high
across the thames
'where tourists dare'.
Mr. Ford, why did you make
The cars which cause such deep heartache?...
From MOTs to punctured tyre,
Was that a gun, or did I misfire?
Parking tickets, yellow lines;
Wheelclamps, countless crushing fines;
Insurance costs, CCTV
Congestion Charge for you and me;
Broken mirrors, cracks and scrapes-
Stolen cars, false number plates;
Big bills from men I cannot trust,
Who warn of camshaft cracks and rust;
Some love to drive with beer can filled;
‘Who cares if I, -or they-, are killed?’
Road-rage, shouting, broken glass:
Some cannot let an insult pass.
The traffic jams we see each day
Seem made to wear the clutch away.
‘Was that a space that just went by?
Or must I drive ‘till our tank’s dry?’
The eyesore of the breaker’s yard
With twisted metal, dull and marred.
There’s poisoning from lead-filled plumes;
Monoxide clouds, and choking fumes.
Excuse me for the way I talk:
But Mr. Ford… today I’ll walk!
Imagine if all cars grown tomatoes on the roof
Blueberry juice was the car's fuel
In all the windows hung flower boxes
full of exotic fragrant flowers in all colors
Cute blonde curtains in the front window
Maximum speed was 10 miles per. hour
The exhaust should emit aromas of lovely perfume
The air would be good to breathe in for all
No cars honking, just played beautiful music
Everyone had a good time, smiling and waving to each other
26.09.2012
A-L Andresen :)
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I just finished flipping the calendar to March
I keep a paper one hanging on my kitchen wall
despite everything being digital
I’m old school some would say
How is it each day I’m at work every minute I'm there
passes like an old woman with a walker running a marathon
while months and years fly by like fighter jets breaking the sound barrier
Life is like that ride at the amusement park shaped like a silo that spins
slowly at first, the velocity incrementally increasing
until the world becomes a blur
finding yourself pressed against the wall by an unseen force
unable to move a muscle without exerting extreme effort
My birthday is a little more than two months away
I don’t feel old or look anything like I imagined (and feared) I would
when I was in my early twenties and forty seemed like such an ancient age
I'm older than my parents were when they became grandparents
making my entrance into this world when they were only teenagers
in the early hours of that late May morning
I was a bit older though too young as well
when I took up the mantle of mother
When you have no hope you cling to anyone that pays attention
in order to feel you have any worth
that you matter to someone even if only for a few precious minutes
I’m reminded of men I’ve seen who are likely in their sixties
their silver hair, if they have any at all, blowing in the wind
as they race down the road behind the wheel
of a brand new expensive sports car they had aspired to own
since they were sixteen but can only now afford to buy
who will soon find themselves waking up to the fact
that some dreams left unfulfilled for too long grow stale
realizing it isn't the thrill it would have been back then
when women would have paid equal attention to both car and driver
each complimenting the other instead of such a stark contrast
reselling it a year or two later concluding it’s not worth the expense
investing those funds in a pre-paid funeral and life insurance