Best Front End Poems
Inching, inching, slowly inching;
Inchworm loopingly inching along.
Measuring, measuring, carefully measuring;
Careful to measure no measurement wrong.
Reaching, reaching, slowly reaching;
Front-end reachingly seeking a hold.
Following, following, other-end following;
Follow the leader unerringly bold.
Onward, onward--ever onward;
Inchworm tirelessly inching away.
Answer me, answer me, measure worm, answer me,
How many inches have you inched today?
Categories:
front end, children,
Form:
Beige sport's car with fifty-nine thousand miles.
Rag top (original color - brown).
Engine still runs great, but frame might
need some work. Body ok.
Awesome wheels and front end.
Fuel efficient too.
Vintage model-
A must-see!
(Not for
sale.)
Categories:
front end, funny,
Form:
Etheree
She calls herself Bunny Boucher, but she was born Veronica Chermak. She’s tall and leggy with a body that looks tidy, yet lived in. She’s high and tight, but flexible like a strong rubber band in a tricked out pinball table. She reminds me of that actress Tracie Lumbar playing the actress Fern Hall in that old movie Iguana Sunset. Her topography leaves no room for global climate change. Her tropics are seductively torrid, while her poles remain perpetually cool; makes you want to straddle her equator with your meridian. She’s been to Mussel Shoals, Shucked Oyster, Bearded Clam, Moose Knuckle, Camel Toe, Beaver Falls, Cottonwood, and Rabbit Patch, just to name a few of her more well-known hangouts. Some would say she looks Greco-Roman, but I’d describe her as looking more like a Hellenized Phoenician who emigrated from Trans-Alpine Gaul, or maybe she looks more Etruscan, with a hint of Minoan when you see her by moonlight. They say she’s as pure as bloodstains on a purloined letter. She traded in her Biblical name soon after she left her home in Mississippi and never spoke of it again. It may be just routine housekeeping, but who could blame a girl for sweeping off her back porch. She recently had a front end alignment. They say her rearview mirror never lets her down. After arriving in New Orleans she passed her bar exam at Vaughan’s on Dauphine and kept the circuit judge disrobed till way past last call. She’s a sexy banshee when she’s in the catbird seat with her cherry basket swinging from a bungee cord. Last I heard she was sharing a dump with a couple Guatemalan dancers. Her room ain’t worth a dollar, but it cost a pretty penny. She pays the rent with a pickup truck full of contraband. She says she needs the space, but not the distance. Like most women, nobody’s ever been able to figure her out. But there is one thing I know for certain, her smoke may sometimes offer you a tempting indication of certain possibilities, but her fire has never been known to lie.
Categories:
front end, sensual,
Form:
Prose Poetry
She arrived from the big city
wearing a red ten-gallon hat,
and a denim stone-washed outfit
which topped off her shiny new
cowboy boots that were designed
by Tucson Sue.
This dude ranch cowgirl had a secret,
she never rode a horse in her life,
she knew it was time to learn the ropes,
all her life she lived in the city,
the closest she got to a horse was on T.V.,
it was a shame and a pity.
Early next morning she arose,
washed her face, brushed her teeth
and combed her curly hair,
carefully placing her tall hat on her head,
she sauntered into the dining hall.
looked around and decided to sit next to Fred.
He was a cowpoke who roamed from town to town,
grabbing jobs wherever he could working with horses,
the young lady and Fred made small talk,
she confessed she never rode a horse before,
and didn't know the front end from the rear,
he knew she was a city slicker and had to learn more.
Fred took a liking to her right away,
he told her that he had a perfect horse for her,
her name was Ginger, a stawberry roan,
the only problem was that she had a three-legged gait,
would she mind learning on Ginger for her first time,
she noticed that the cowpoke was handsome was this fate?
She told him that her name was Cindy Lee,
he liked the sound of her name and thought she was pretty,
off on the trail they rode together,
Ginger with her uneven trot headed straight into a tree branch,
Knocking off the young lady from her saddle,
She tumbled and fell and wished she was back at the ranch.
Cindy Lee and Fred fell in love while she was on vacation,
he taught her to ride and learn about horses,
she was determined to hang on and not let go,
Ginger was replaced by a quarter horse who knew leg commands,
a palomino with lots of pride who on occasion would throw its rider
against a fence and snort without demands.
Fred and Cindy Lee decided to get hitched,
a September wedding was planned with everyone invited,
all the dude ranch staff and the entire small town,
both rode their horses on their wedding day very much in love,
she wore an old-fashioned lace dress with her boots,
off they rode into the sunset together peaceful as a dove.
Categories:
front end,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
Funny talk... "diddly squat"
Means basically nothing to me!
Where do these words come from?
Do they grow these things on trees?
What a joke... "a pig in a poke"
Fooled unsuspecting buyers!
Instead of a piggy inside the bag
Twas a kitty cat for the fryer!
But of course... "hay's for horses"
Here's another reason to spend?
Some stuffing for your Jockeys
To give you a fuller front end!
Just my luck... "I'm a dead duck"
She caught me with this lady!
Not to worry, it all turned out
Twas Mom so nothing shady!
Whadya think... "Take forty winks"
Causes trouble with wifey poo!
Of course if you wink at a filly
And the filly winks back at you!
It's really absurd... these silly words
They upset our daily routine!
They've been known to turn sunny days
To the ugliest days ever seen!
© Jack Ellison 2013
Categories:
front end, funny,
Form:
Quatrain
It was a dark, snowy night,
My blurry eyesight,
I'm just trying to get from point a to B
But I can barely see,
I can hardly walk, talk, stand,
My slurred speech,
I know I shouldn't be driving,
But nothing will happen to me...
Until all of a sudden my car swerves,
It ignites my nerves,
I jerk the wheel to avoid going off the road,
Little did I know,
A car was coming the other way,
I didn't have the time, to move my car,
I crash,
The airbag explodes,
Glass shatters, I stagger,
Out of the car, blood dripping,
From who knows where...
I hope they're okay, their car's crushed,
The front end mangled,
The drivers tangled,
In between the seats, I try to reach,
For them, but I collapse,
The pain rushes through my punctured
Lung,
I'm done...
I lie down, try to breathe,
But it hurts, sharp pains
Pierce my veins..
I can't move, hurt and cold, I can't speak,
I wish I would've listened when they preached,
I was dumb, believed in invincibility..
Now I'm dying, my future is bleak,
I close my eyes, try to regain peace,
Slowly I'm numbing, it's a welcomed ease,
I drift away, into my mind,
Never to wake, I've left it all behind..
Categories:
front end, car, dark, drink, grief,
Form:
Rhyme
He saw a hazy little light
A dream or a reality in sight?
Little light at the tunnel’s end
Stay or move on? …
A solitary trip set up a story
The late-night trail lay empty
Little light at the tunnel’s end
Stay or move on? ...
In the silence, he used his cane
Hauled his unfit leg down the lane
Little light at the tunnel’s end
Start and move on? …
Left behind him, a dusky tunnel
The light of hope at the front end
Pulls him toward the tunnel’s end
Don’t die in a tunnel…
Categories:
front end, car, courage, dark, dream,
Form:
Verse
My front end needs alignment and my rear end sags a lot
My vinyl seats get cold in fall; in summer they're too hot
Beneath the seats; old french fries, pennies, napkins, Laura Scudders
My fuel intake is kind of rough, sometimes it coughs and sputters
My lights are growing dimmer and my gas tank's sprung a leak
My steering wheel's bent out of shape; my windshield wipers squeek
My engine's losing power and my tires have lost their tread
My spark plugs all have lost their fire, my radio's gone dead.
My axle's looking fractured, and my frame is rusting through
My paint job's getting faded and my brakes are fading too
My oil is getting grungy, my speedometer flat-lined
My A/C blows warm air and my transmission tends to grind
This car of which I speak is ME (in case you didn't know)
It's running rough, but still it gets me where I need to go
These classic wheels still get around - they just move r e a l l y s l o w!
written 31 Oct 2021
Categories:
front end, age, car,
Form:
Rhyme
Just having fun with words and free poetry - kind of like a free verse front/end acrostic-
W inds howling through prairie grasses Warning
I mpending snowfalls and hail will be Icing
N ightly with cold gripping hands, Nipping
T reetops, stripping them and Thieving
E ventually erasing all color, whilst Etching
R ootless imprints 'til next season’s Rendezvousing
Categories:
front end, nature, snow, storm, weather,
Form:
Acrostic
Don’t involve me in your suicide!
Did you see me coming,
On that lonely alpine bend?
Nowhere to turn,
Cliff wall to the right,
River to the left.
I hit the brakes,
But you kept coming.
Just stay in your lane!
The A.M. shift would miss me this morning.
Instead, they would pry me from my smoking car.
Pain breaking across me with every gasp.
Thanks! I spent Thanksgiving in the I.C.U.
They carefully knitted my bones with titanium.
I have a metal souvenir in my knee.
The scars have mostly faded now.
A plastic surgeon reattached my nose.
Still as good looking as ever.
You could have carried more car insurance.
I spent it well.
But I have questions.
What were you drinking that night?
Why did you try to drive?
Why did you choose me?
Guess it doesn’t matter now!
It was you last drink.
The front end of my car was your last vision.
It is eerie to be apart of a stranger’s death.
Even just as a misfortunate target.
Our opposing forces snuffed your life.
You did not suffer like I did.
I still remember their coded description.
D.O.A. (Better known as dead on arrival.)
If somehow I could say three words,
To your drunken face,
It would sound like this,
“I forgive you.”
Categories:
front end, forgivenessme, thanksgiving, car, me,
Form:
Free verse
Pothole on highway
Knocked my front end out of line
Should the city pay?
© Sam, 4/14/08
Categories:
front end, places, seasons, time, urban,
Form:
Senryu
From the cedar closet she reached
for a bundle. Holding her breath,
she pushed her head through, pulling down to her torso.
Scattering moths as she walked through the hallway
Breathing only on the front end of her stride.
Categories:
front end, fashion, grandmother, grief, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse
In recent daydreams, I bemused
trekking the wild African plain -
herds of hippoes and elephants
petrifying prey with their might.
Envisioning the behemoth
I recall a story about
behemoth’s strong powerful tail.
So my reverie is confused.
An elephant’s tail I see as
a bottle brush, skinny, floppy.
I had heard, read, or seen somewhere
“the behemoth’s tail sways like a
cedar” which immediately
brought to mind the elephant’s trunk.
This trance has the power to amuse
I ponder the thought of a writer
who mistook the front end for the
rear end of an elephant and
in typical dream fashion had
created a new fantasy -
the legendary behemoth.
At this point my head went on cruise
drifting to comic books of old,
where behemoth is a monster
set in the tales of Atlantis.
I recall a trip with puppets
electric eels, whirlwinds, quicksand
from the brilliant minds at Marvel.
For writers impelled by a muse
to pen our imaginations,
dreams make perfect sense while dreaming.
Sweats, rapid heart beats are the proof
when we awake in frantic haste
to get it all down on paper
before our mind reverts to truth.
Categories:
front end, animal, muse, writing,
Form:
Verse
THE MOST DANGEROUS ROADS
i've got the head of a rattle snake
on the front end of my hood
i've got a chilled clorox drink
in my steel-knuckled hand
and we're rolling down I-10
across the stretch between Phoenix
to the Cali border and 85 deaths
a single year makes me quiver
shifting the stick to overdrive
Smiling as I rumble over America's
most dangerous road
kissing the guardrails
flirting with the slops
to side ditches so steep
but not as fun as I-15
from LA to Las Vegas I say
it's all the way or no
it's all the way or no
it's all the way or no
it's me spreading my ashes
across the country I love
it's me treading the coals
with a swizzle stick in my nose
yeah here we go
:: 03.05.2016 ::
Categories:
front end, poems, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
I wish my driver would take care of me,
there's crack in the windshield I know he must see.
He drives me fast and hard,
not to the mention the paint is marred.
The rear tire has been low for a week,
he should worry about all the oil I leak.
All he cares is whether the radio will work,
forget how my front end tends to jerk.
The windshield wipers are broke,
not to mention all the black smoke.
A tune-up how great that would be,
I just wish my driver would take care of me
Categories:
front end, caregiving, funny, love, people,
Form:
Rhyme