Best Driver Poems


Premium Member Driver of Victory

Driver of Victory

Fate, destiny, and forever are evil sisters indeed.
They strive to trip and stumble, even the bravest of soldiers.
Courageous men that gather and pray,
Stronger on their knees, than giants.
A war that has no end is at hand.
The people have lost their gratefulness.
The tide of the unworthy has drowned the unwary.
Gather together and herald the King!
© Ann Foster  Create an image from this poem.

Zeke the Bus Driver

Public transpo buses are a poor man's taxicab,
but you can't hail a ride when you need one
You must sit and wait on a wooden street slab
Buses are municipal elephants
that move on asphalt trails
If one arrives on schedule, then all is well
Drop the money into the pay slot,
and get taken to that menial job you got
But marginal income don't motivate you a lot
Yet, be glad you're one of the fortunate few
that has a cool bus driver who loves to skirt the rules
He will tell you to call him Zeke
Not mister, not sir
Just Zeke
Thirty years, he says he's been
on the urban safari beat
Says he's seen it all
on the jungle concrete streets
Zeke loves to laugh a lot,
he loves to give out friendly hellos
And Zeke really loves helping
the disabled and old widows
Next time you're in his city,
take a chance and ride poor
If you meet Zeke, you'll be richer for sure

I'M America's Worst Driver

Where I live, a bunch of idiots work at the DMV.
They proved that by giving a drivers license to me.
When I drive, I constantly drive in the wrong lane.
Some people call me stupid, others call me insane.
If you're on the same road while I'm driving,
you won't have much of a chance of surviving.
I've wrecked so many cars that my insurance company no longer pays.
If you ever see me driving in your neighborhood, you really should pray.
If you're out walking while I'm driving, you sure will need to get out of my way.
Because if you don't, your next of kin will be informed that you've passed away.
I drive extremely bad during the night and even worse in the rain.
When I die, my body will be donated to science but they won't accept my brain.
When people see me coming, they lose bladder control and pee.
The gospel truth is that even drunk drivers drive better than me.


The Driver of a Narrow Mind

By Angeline Vine

The bus driver only picked her up
if other people were standing
near by

If she was alone 
the driver would quickly
drive right by her

She thought she was no different
than anyone else

Although the bus driver
thought she was

Premium Member The Bus Driver: 'Breathless' - New Form - POTD

The endless, gray-smudged window
of this bus seat where the rain streaks down and blurs 
the passing world into a watercolor of passing cars 
and muted neon signs, and I can’t help but feel a strange 
kind of peace in this temporary suspended motion, 
this observation booth where the world outside 
continues without me and the only constant is the 
rhythmic swish of the wipers and the humming of the 
engine that seems to cradle me in its vibrating heart as 
the city lights smear and run, becoming something else 
entirely, a long, liquid memory that pools and spreads 
across the dirty glass, and I wonder what the 
passengers on the behind side of the bus are doing, if 
they are looking out their own windows at this same 
downpour, or if they are inside, warm and dry, with a 
different kind of day unfolding for them, a day filled with 
sunlight and clear, crisp air and the sound of birds that I 
can’t hear right now, only the low, deep hum of the bus 
and the soft hiss of the brakes as it pulls up to the next 
stop, where the rain is already beginning to pool on the 
cracked and broken sidewalk, and a lone figure stands 
under an umbrella, a dark silhouette against the watery 
light, and I can only watch them from this distance, this 
glass-encased world that moves through the larger, wet 
world, and I am a part of both and neither, just another 
face reflected in the window, waiting for the next stop, 
the next blurry landmark, the next moment to disappear
and with backup who is wide-eyed and all peppered up 
and looks just raring to go until you look at me wonderin' 
who must be that poor excuse of a guy into the passing 
stream of the night just before my stop b winter starts.

Premium Member Reckless Driver

The speed limit in this state on highways is sixty-five.
However, you drive like the most reckless man alive.
Probably the reason for this is merely the thrills.
You are old enough to know that excess speed kills.

Why is it you always seem in a hurry to go anywhere?
You should leave earlier, and give yourself time to spare.
Do you realize the police plant speed traps everywhere?
Speeding violations are costly.  Do you not care?

Tickets not only result in high insurance premium rates.
Many times, drivers may encounter egregious fates.
Sit behind the wheel and use sense is what I will say.
Drive carefully, and live to see another day.


Premium Member The Bus Driver 50 Shades

They all got on my bus
The old folk had a night out
The cinema it would be
50 shades of grey
Going to see
50 shades of grey

Modern Driver Education - a Satire

Modern Driver Education

By Elton Camp

The driving school wanted to be up to date
Though current trends the teacher did hate

The boss said, “If in your job you’d stay,
You must doing things the modern way.”

Not wanting to face the unemployment line
The instructor very reluctantly said, “Fine”

He taught students the sneaky way to text
How to apply makeup while driving, next

Then how to eat with one hand while you drive
And to sip from a cup while still staying alive

Also he showed how to effectively use the radio
And the way to consult the GPS while on the go

Plus how to avoid a law enforcement trap
For driving while downloading an app

Demonstrating, so strange it made him feel,
Doing an obscene sign, one hand on the wheel
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.

Taxi Driver---You Talking To Me

Confronts reflection,
                                    psychotic image triggers
                                          his apocalypse!


                          For the Senryu a movie scene contest

The Bus Driver

Driving his bus on that fateful day along this long driven route
Down a busy street he made his way his horn barely a toot
People coming and people going all at such a hectic pace
But the ability he was showing in placing a name to every face

Yet as I had said before this day would be unique
For what was at this drivers core left many unable to speak
Many were just looking around trying to process what they saw
But it was that which they found that really made that chilly day thaw  

As along his way he saw a sight that touched his humble heart
Now stopped at the light he seen his chance to do his little part
Putting on the emergency brake and heading out the door
Suddenly people began to wake in the wondering of what for

And there across the street was a man walking with no shoes
He shook his hand to greet saying "hey I got some good news
I want you to have these for you need them more than I"
The homeless man agrees shaking his hand and waving good bye

Running quickly back to his bus his socks soaking up the rain
He didn't even make a fuss and got right back into lane
Nobody knew what to do or even what they should say
But everybody knew we saw something very special that day

Winnipeg bus driver Kris Doubledee
Dedicated to my Father, Joseph
Thank You Dad!

My Sexy Truck Driver

He drives along the countryside ,
 speeding the hearts of all the woman. 
Delivering his sumptuous smile ,
 the enigma of his personality. 
Deep blue eyes are purest in the world , 
A white man's love to die for ! 
I have bathed in oriental monsoon,
  tasted the Indian wine
, but nothing as compared to his passion. 
 The gear of my heart is in his hands , 
My blood runs through the engine , 
He drives me to his heart's harbour, 
For he is my sexy TRUCK DRIVER.
© Red Fiery  Create an image from this poem.

Being Killed By a Drunk Driver

~Someone is killed by a drunk driver every fifty-three minutes~

My true nightmare, I’m stuck and caught,
to not drink and drive I was taught-
But the fear I hold is dying
by someone else who’s drunk driving-
Crushed in a smashed up car, I fought.

I tell myself it’s not their fault,
but truth be told this fear they brought.
If I forgive I’d be lying…
-my true nightmare

Through good council ease I have sought,
but apprehension will not halt-
panic in cars leaves me crying,
to cease this fear, I keep trying-
my totaled car leaves me distraught…
-my true nightmare


Rondeau: Rhyme Scheme:  A-A-B-B-A /A-A-B-C /A-A-B-B-A C
8 syllables in each line
C is the first 4 syllables of the first line and repeated at the
end of the second and third stanza


You Greatest Fear
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
Date Written: September 27, 2016

The Bus Driver

Will you ride with me on this bus?
I promise the trip is in no rush
For the driver is careful and gentle
He will forbid danger to meddle

Will you ride with me on this bus?
Comforting and void of all the fuss
Guaranteed seat for you to take
Well designed for passenger's sake

Take a ride with me now on this bus
In a condition you can't make a refund
For the fare is free for all destinations
Welcome to people of every nation

Ride with me now on this bus
Take my word, we are in good hands
For the One above is our careful driver
Driving our lives so we may not suffer

A Truck Driver

I am a truck driver,
A profession by choice.
Behind the wheel,
That's my voice.
Left the factory,
Not hidden by walls.
Run my loads wherever they call.
Dispatchers think,
We are some kind of superman,
When in reality,
We just do what we can.
We're looked down on,
Called all kinds of names.
Not recognized as humans,
Like on some deserted plain.
We have a heart,
We have a soul.
Not all are angry,
Not all are cruel.
We are tagged as killers,
By some attorneys at law,
They just want money,
They don't care at all.
No teachings in class,
No information supplied,
To what these rigs can do,
If one of us and a car collide.
I'm here to tell you,
I have a heart a mile wide,
I care about people,
My feelings I don't hide.
Treat me with shame,
Treat me like I am lower than you,
Just remember,You have to answer to God to.

Cab Driver

Alone at the narrow and busy street
Waited promptly for a cab to stop a bit.

At last lucky one respond to signals
Rode calmly whilst have thought of things

As the cab traversed streets to bridges
Mind soared with the driver's ordeals

Spoke undated events which ruined his life
Special one left for someone without notice

Love within and without fear to commit
In a relationship but haunted by past

Cab driver's enlightenment at once realized
Through sets of words emphatically uttered.

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