Best Gears Poems
Do you know what grinds my gears?
Its been building in me for a few years.
People driving and texting, just letting their mind linger.
They almost hit me, then cut me off, then give me the finger.
Then the teacher tells everyone not to text during class.
She starts lecturing and all heads go down like a ceremony at mass.
They all just sit there and talk and text away,
or just sit there and get frustrated at the games they play.
Another thing that gets under my skin and must go,
is when people talk to me, using phrases and words I don't know.
For Example, my friend spent some bones on a whip and got a bucket.
What? Is everyone all right? What happened? He explained it.
What that means is he spent money (bones) on a car (whip),
and its a piece of crap (bucket), and it won't last on a long trip.
Another is: I got a trick that we can flip and make some mad.
I'm not sure what he said, but I could end up in the most wanted ad.
Then he explains, he saw a nice car (trick), that we can buy and sell (flip),
and make a lot of money (mad). So a bucket is a trick and trick is whip?
Why can't you just say car? Because it sounds cool and you know it.
You sound like an idiot and I can't even understand you and I'm a poet.
I don't get why this world has to be so frustrating and get in my head.
He's gonna skeet and drop it til then, so I have to figure out what he just said.
**For Natalie Fllikkema's contest “What annoys you”?
Christmas is in the air,
Santa is getting prepared,
Trying to fit into last years suit feels weird,
A little more weight that's what I feared,
Trying to get into his pants he tore the rear,
Getting into his jacket,rip,rip,arms tear,
Exposing Santa tall white hair,
Ho,ho,ho,I am not scared,
Snapping his fingers,Rudolph appears,
I have the best tailor in this hemisphere,
Hi,ho,away,I'm off to fix my gears,,,
Once there was a wise man called Joseph gears
True to his conscience believes Holy Spirit steers
Materialism, an addiction to kill one's soul
Jesus Christ, his leader model
Bloody gears! this world is for cracks ask your peer.
Happiness burns,
Its a forest fire,
Accidents happen.
Something forgotten that glows,
Extra bright,
Too bright
Too silver
Too gold.
Or lacking skin there of by which the light gleams,
It burns in the blood,
In your chest,
Up your neck,
It just burns,
And then it catches fire,
And it rages.
The crackling of memories buried long beneath hopes,
They burn,
And the gears of the heart begin to grind,
And tumble,
The rust,
It casts a mask and scent over the lingering sadness.
But i regret these gears,
And I'll use a thousand tears to extinguish this fire,
All fires die,
All happiness dies,
Ideas.
Ideas live,
They're contagious,
They spread further than fires,
And consume more than mankind,
The idea....of happiness
Is consuming,
Unforgiving.
They stole my brand-new bike from where
I’d left it in the yard.
Since I was only eight years old,
I really took it hard.
I’d only had it for a week
But it fit all my needs –
The brakes were on the handlebars
And wow! It had three speeds!
It was metallic blue and oh,
The other kids would stare;
But one day when I came outside,
It simply wasn’t there.
We searched in vain on every street
Within the neighborhood.
We really thought it would show up,
But it was gone for good.
My parents didn’t have the funds
To purchase a replacement.
Instead, they found a clunker
Rusting in somebody’s basement.
My second bike was old and slow
And really not much fun.
The tires were fat, the rims were scuffed,
The count of speeds was one!
I’ve never owned another bike
But cars I’ve had a few;
And one thing I can tell you is
Each one was spanking new!
Ever wonder
how they think
they way the gears turn
why they say what they say
what they are thinking
the thoughts in their minds
how they function
why people do the things they do
i think about my mind
i think about the things i do
i relate my self
to others
when i speak i too
wonder
wow why did i say that
what was i thinking
but each word
each movement
has a reason
has a story
the non verbal signs
the faces and looks
i have a reason
but yet
i still watch
and i still wonder
why do they do the things they do
are their gears put together
different than mine
do they not feel the same as i
should they?
when i write
i write my emotion
my feelings at that moment
i let it out
i let it go
same with my moods
my words
i dont hold back
but i should
so why do we
talk
move
look
act
and do
these things
do we ever truely think about
the outcome
the end rusult?
Driving down the highway,
90 miles an hour,
trying to get back to you,
so I could give you flowers.
The truck she was purring like a kitten,
sweet sounding as she could be.
Sometimes seems she knew,
we were headed home you see.
What a wonderful truck she is,
never to give me grief,
always ready in a flash,
to my great relief.
Then all of a sudden she starts a knocking,
heard a rattling as well,
and all I could think was
" what the h***".
Then she starts slowing,
no matter how I pushed her.
Next was a big ole' BANG,
and she says whoa mister.
"You stripped my gears and left me shiftless"
Now you gonna pay,
so don't come back knocking,
for a roll in the hay.
You ain't gonna get it,
ain't coming back to you.
So keep on trucking,
in your truck so blue.
2008
Stereo on, lightly, interrupting
sounds of unease
Clicking of the left turning arrow
Chops into
Displeased auras, romantically
He seeks it
Desperately
Through every glance
Blinking away in the dark
Hands on the steering wheel
white knuckled
Driving on reluctantly
Feeling his power
Slipping away
Because he can’t let his woman get away
Analyzing things
So small but they could mean
So much
Squeezing out memories
Every last drop
Shifting gears
She sits, silent, staring out at the road
Buckled in as tightly as he could get her
Wishing on stars that seemed to brighten
Suddenly
Why did she not see them before?
Dreaming of dreams so long ago
To her it seems like endless revolutions
Of the fan in the bedroom
Always, swallowing bitter pills
For his sake, for his sake
To appease him, to make up for
All the times she could have been
A better lover
Something always a lot more then she could give
But she doesn’t have to put up with his grasp
Tightened fist
anymore
And the stars shine brighter then they ever had before
spending time, charmed by all the goodies
...a weight room, pool and foosball tables and
a padded room with a wrestling mat and dummies.
a kids paradise. Little girls backflipping, colliding
with little boys. ...with choke holds and all.
upon disembarking this adventure, past the fountain,
and stepping on ritzy road of the very rich,
the school age thinker asks, with a gulp, gears spinning
in his overwhelmed head:
“What does someone have to do to live in a place like this?”
3/28/2018
They say you can’t remember pain, but every time I hear your name, I can’t breathe, someone help me.
The memories won’t leave me alone, I’m beginning to spiral out of control.
It’s all too much the thought of your hands on my body, but you see;
these stitches I’ve sown, oh they’ve come loose, talking to you, I am talking about you.
So from here on out, I vow to myself, to find somebody new.
Who won’t bring back the past and play it again, I want to start from scratch, I want the pain to end.
But it’s hard and I’m tired of holding it in, cause we used to sing, about our love.
Now I’m afraid my voice will fade to a whisper.
As long as you were talking, I would be there listening, every word meant the world to me.
There was nothing you could say and I wouldn’t hear you out, that was how we worked, two gears pressing on.
An now it’s all gone.
Sam sung: "A Change Is Gonna Come."
So many since then. The politics of
pain and gain, all the smashed windows,
the struck dumb widows.
Mind-works unearthing the terminal.
The young riddled with old slugs
turn to the black hooded judge
imploring hands or clenched fists
revolving around forever sad eyes.
Inevitable change leaving town
to seek new ways
to anesthetize yesterday,
drag racing across tomorrow,
a classic Corvette mowing down
fentanyl induced death masks.
Cords drowning in a levee,
saccharine tunes battering brick walls
with a blind and brainless remorse.
The dead have walked away
disgusted with the dying light.
Change is a ‘coming and it looks like
a killer clown lurking in the front yard
of every sane asylum.
In life we go through many phases.
And our minds go to many places.
Some people stay right where they are.
And sadly, don't go very far.
It's when we get outside ourselves.
And climb down off those dusty shelves.
That we can find a whole new world.
And spend them nuts that we have squirreled.
It seems that in today's society.
You need not move to get variety.
We sit and click and never move.
And causes health to not improve.
Then one day comes an ultimatum.
And we heed the warning verbatim.
Blood pressure's high and so is glucose.
We don't ask why and we don't suppose.
The answers clear, it's time to shift.
Into high gear to slim midriff.
And when we start to feel a change.
Our whole live's start to rearrange.
So find a way that keeps you moving.
So you can continue improving.
And soon you'll start feeling much better.
When you become a daily sweater.
And as the weight begins to shed.
You'll sleep much better in your bed.
So don't just click, get up instead.
Before you wake and find you're dead.
Once moving,
In conjunction with another.
Moving gears relate,
One to the other.
Turning once,
Moves another.
As beasts eat,
Predation follows the score.
Turning on prey,
Discovered today.
Like our politics,
The moving beasts eat.
As gears,
The prey retreats.
Until the beast,
Has nothing left.
The gears have moved,
On to a new feat.
Shes' got me changing gears...
burning rubber everywhere...
she can drive this stick shift...
...ramming road blocks...
stop signs and red lights...
crime of passion...
speed is of the clock...
in my rear view...
I see the crash crew...
breaks have failed...
no pulling to the side...
I'll tap her fender
she will surrender...
driving blind...got to
get on her inside lane...
my heart screaming...
for a retread...
...got to have this woman...
in pole position...
she can drive on empty
one look she gives me plenty...
she has cranked me up...
pumping iron not enough...
shes' done my head in...
shes flooded my 6 cylinder...
...she guns the engine...
I got the right tool...
she knows I can use it...
one more look...refuel...
Dear people,
Grant it be a solid marble, marble, a slate or granite marble, it is still a stony marvel of a marble.
-TheThird rock away, with just the right light to
stay, way far from bright ...(yet just right for life)
It’s flight, flies at faces, at high paces, far out and from extremely long ranges.
consider-A spun, struck golf ball, that holds all life, where all that is known is to; desperately cling to it’s sides and hold on for dear life,
-rest no fears, it’ll be a bumpy ride. (Let’s go!)
-Suggest we together, Tie,-Us up with the weather, securely tether safely all sides,
form a worldwide scifi-type balloon...
to act as with the moon,
...so tightly in tune to its two tides.
The Truth in the tongue, sung, from both sides as its hung from the tooth.
Born in a spectator who took a quick look into this spectacle’s booth. In the horn in the hoof. All In the Toe as a whole, solely by our souls slowly, roll into its side to shift/till it slides, till still. Then It’s uphill we’ll slip up on a looped reel, till all there’s-to feel is thirst for a refill but Every sip could be thE pill, gulp down so greed kills, throw that up there with the whole while, free will, whichever; stand-sit still, all will still feel a lil bit ill from this slow violent till that really tares up the insides...people if you must, if you feel Inclined, read these with eyes that read to tare up words written on (an) incline, and in as these here letters bleed together in lead lines, that might find, though inked in lead paint they will still seemingly read fine... and thankfully with no harmful lasting defects on any esteemed minds.
And yours? (keep em in )No one cares for those!!!!!!! Keep those, here’s these, now ... These words and the following have and will always be mine...
-these letters are for the people who know how to read and feel so inclined