Best Hitchhiked Poems
Each is a piece, a small part
of a composite that has come
together in a morning,
the frayed strands of dreams
knitted into a waking timed now
to a slow tread on a familiar street.
Then suddenly, careering through
the center of my thoughts a train
comes with bells at a crossing
clanging loudly and wheels grinding
on rails heading off towards
a distant point in the past. I stop
and see myself, late teens,
leaving home, riding the interstate
with dreams spilling out
of a duffle bag, head in a cloud
of hope. I was Rimbaud on rails,
high on poetry that I took straight.
Six months in a one room flat
I ran out of money and a literary career,
hitchhiked back home to sink
into a wintery despair.
A lifetime has passed
and I have left a poem tied
to the end of each year as if
marking my way. The words
of most have now weathered away
to a silence. I write as a form
of prayer to that greater silence
and on still mornings, hear
the sound of a train in the far
distance growing quieter.
Categories:
hitchhiked, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
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.
Categories:
hitchhiked, death, dedication, inspirational, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
It was a time when we were troubled
Work shifts had to be doubled
We didn’t earn enough to take a wife
We protested a worthless war
Cried over the Ohio four
Watched newscasts full of strife
Our innocence had died
Our President had lied
And … it was the best time of my life
Our hair, we didn’t cut
Free love, cost us too much
We separated seeds with a broken kitchen knife
We hitchhiked to Yasgurs’ farm
Got tattoos on our arms
And laughed at the bungling Barney Fife
We were hungry and we were thin
Too young to know it then
But … these were the best times of my life
Now, most of us are gone
Radio stations don’t own a Joplin song
Another obit sends a friend off to the afterlife
My head now holds no hair
Once again, I have no buck to spare
Another worthless war adds to our daily strife
But, as we near the end
I still think of you my friend
And how you shared the best times of my life
Categories:
hitchhiked, friend, history, life,
Form:
Rhyme
I've seen Paris
I've seen Greece
I've even seen Venice
money well spent
to achieve divine peace
I've hitchhiked through the desert
walked the Manhattan streets
played imaginary football with cactus
ran a marathon in a city made of concrete
met many faces
let many of them go
turned my back, without looking back
poetic verses now grow.
went to a black and white ball in the hills
played basketball in the slums
partied with many different cultures
hell, that's what makes life fun
I've seen prejudice
and all the pain it brings
I've seen blacks and Jews persecuted
in their favor i choose to sing
I've seen the religious ethics
of churches world wide
heard many sermons, different principles
i will not choose a side
traveled one hundred thousand miles
from coast to coast,
swam naked in the river Nile
invited Ghandi, played his host
I have lived in in the ghetto,
ate my dumplings fried,
spent countless nights at Hilton,
there's a limitless fortune in this mind.
Jared Pickett
10/25/04
Asavvy1
Categories:
hitchhiked, adventure
Form:
Free verse
People think they see Bigfoot roaming
around in the vast wilderness of the forest,
when it's really my 66 year old left over
from Woodstock very hairy hippie cousin,
Who decided 20 years ago to live off of the land,
having had hitchhiked out west with little or no definite plan,
he just hiked out to the forest impulsively one day a free man,
where he lives in a tree house sort of like Tarzan,
He's always been like a Viking very big and burly,
but very seldom does his mood turn mean or surly,
and since he hasn't seen a barber in more than 20 years,
the sight and smell of him can cause an awful lot of fear,
And although he's very hirsute with hair everywhere,
he doesn't cover up with not even a stitch of underwear,
and being labeled Bigfoot he doesn't want to disappoint,
that's why to this day hikers still run, scream and point,
Some brave one's even stick around and take his picture,
with my cousin mimicking an ape running round with a little snicker,
so if you see a picture of Bigfoot on the cover of some rag paper,
more than likely it's just my hippie cousin out naked enjoying nature.
11-27-16
Categories:
hitchhiked, cousin, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
Dinna of Denmark
you were my darling
Walking in your well worn sandals
Down the dirty Via Dolorosa
Clutching your stuffed Lion Toy
Swinging your bag
brimful
with secrets and sweets
Pencil crayons and poems
Fairy stories conjured
In your secret language
colourful lands steeped,
In story-book wonder
I marvelled as I listened
And you and I and crazy John of Jerusalem
who’d been there far too long
would feed the cats by Jaffa gate
You singing your song
through the ancient streets
as you bartered for carefully chosen bananas
and at night on the pansiyon roof we dreamt
in our poorly erected tents
that fell down to reveal
the shepherds stars
that twinkling upon
the ancient old-city rooftops
dear Dinna, lone little Girl-woman
emanating gentle kindness
smiling in bright colours
with warm words for me
sorry I was such a fool
about love and such
and you said you wanted somebody
certain and strong and I felt so foolish and jealous
of your dream of a wandering Indian Brave
but now I hope that in this or some parallel universe
you may find him, Dirty footed Dinna
with your stuffed Lion Toy
By the oasis of Ein Gedi in the hot dead sea sun
You sang aloud as you washed your dress
Then laying it to dry on the hot rock
We splashed about and laughed
And refreshed in that cool pool where I imagine once even
old king Solomon perhaps
happily Sang in the sun and splashed someone he loved
and then we trudged down
and hitchhiked a truck as far as the bus-stop
by the crossroad on Jericho road
and blew you kisses goodbye
Categories:
hitchhiked, farewell, girlfriend, innocence, loss,
Form:
Alliteration
This piece could be, I suppose, a kind of "bucket list", but it's not about regretting all the things I wanted to do in my life and didn't, but, rather, it's about being okay with finally knowing that there just simply isn't/wasn't enough time to do it all. And also, I tend to get a little whimsical from time to time.
Well...
I never played tug-of-war with an elephant
Or kick boxed a kangaroo;
I never arm-wrestled a crocodile
Or won the lottery or built an igloo.
I never went searching for buried treasure
Or gold at the rainbow's end;
I never discovered the fountain of youth
Or had a circus clown for a friend.
I never ran with the bulls in Pamplona
Or croqueted on the lawn of the Taj Mahal;
I never drank wine from a young lady's slipper
Or made love 'neath a waterfall.
I've never zip-lined from the top of Mt. Everest
Or hitchhiked from Nome to Peru,
Or had a long erudite conversation
About how to decide when to use "whom" or "who".
I never played Hamlet, or danced in "Swan Lake",
Or sang opera with Callas or Sills;
I never wrote the great American novel,
And I think, alas, never will.
I never jousted a unicorn
Or read the dictionary from A to Z;
I've not romped in the rain on a plain down in Spain
Or grown a moustache, a beard, or goatee.
I never made money from stocks bought on Wall Street,
I just never could get the knack;
I never walked a tightrope across Royal Gorge
Or swam from Miami to Cuba and back.
I never fought dragons or tilted with giants
Or found a cure for the common cold,
And I've never been able to quite figure out
Just why it is we grow old.
Most of my list is pure fancy, of course,
If I don't do them, I won't feel frustrated.
I can honestly say I've enjoyed growing up,
But in my estimation, growing old's overrated.
Categories:
hitchhiked, introspection,
Form:
Verse
I was hitchhiking home to Dayton
From my Columbus college dorm
It was an early winter’s morning
I layered my clothes to stay warm
I stood on the ramp to the highway
Watching early commuters pass me by
I tried to look innocent and harmless
As the drivers avoided my pleading eye
About a hundred yards up ahead
The car pulled over to the side
When I saw the backup lights come on
I knew I finally had my first ride
She was only about thirty or so
But to a college kid that’s old
The red circles that surrounded her eyes
Of a crying story they told
She looked too scared to be doing this
I was too cold not to accept
So I threw my pack in the back seat door
And into the front I slowly crept
She said, “Where are you going to
And why are you out here with your thumb
Hitchhiking is oh so dangerous
Especially for a boy who is so young”
I said, “I’m going all the way to Dayton
And, I think I’ll be just fine
I do this fairly often
To pick me up you are so kind”
She headed west down I-70
Without saying how far she’d go
Outside it was getting blustery
And the skies started to snow
As we were coming up to Springfield
The roads were getting rough
It was approaching blizzard conditions
And the driving was getting tough
I watched tears escape down each of her cheeks
As silently we crept along
The radio had never been turned on
And the wind was our only song
She sobbed, “I was hoping to get you home alright
But I think that we must stop
I am going to get off of this exit
Maybe with another driver you can hop”
We pulled into a Restaurant
Where she offered to buy me lunch
I thought she needed to tell her story
Or at least that was my hunch
I heard a story full of loneliness
A story of torment and abuse
A story of a wife who was running away
Picking up a hitchhiker was a good excuse
The blizzard continued to get worse
The roads were now shut down
We got a room in the hotel across the street
On the outskirts of the town
I won’t say what happened that evening
But I hitchhiked back to Columbus when the storm did break
I never did quite make it home that week
During the Blizzard of ‘78
Categories:
hitchhiked, life,
Form:
Rhyme
By Michael J Falotico
I hitchhiked so far.
Just me and my dreams folded.
All so nicely placed.
And now over my shoulder.
With my bag of sweet tricks.
I fly in your dreams.
Like fruit your tasting my tongue.
Each treat is pulled out.
And deep on the bottom sits.
A warm kiss for you.
"Bag of Tricks" contest
sponsored my Linda "The Sweetheart of P.S."
AKA "Jersey Girl"
Categories:
hitchhiked, passion
Form:
Tanka
April 30 In Search of America 1975 – Hitchhiking Tales part one
published in Tiferet Journal 2018 Poem-a-Thon
When I was young and foolish
Broke and stubborn
I hitchhiked across the USA
Started in Salt Lake City
Where my greyhound bus pass
Was stolen
The station manager
Could have helped me
But refused to do so
Threaten to call the cops
When I grabbed my bags Without the stolen tags
I said
Go ahead
But I am so out of here
Wondered about Salt Lake City
Went to a bar
Found I had to buy my booze
Next door
And they would mix it for me
Had to order food too
After a bloody Mary
And a burger
I walked about town
Saw the Mormon Temple
Finally, about 3 pm
It was time to hit the road
Did not look back
Ended up in Cody Wyoming
Got a room shower
Steak beer
Using my rapidly depleted cash Spent 25 dollars
Money really went far
Back in those days
A band of professional
Communist agitators
Gave me a ride
To Des Moines
Lots of weed, booze
And politics later
Got off the road
Slept outside
Next day
A beautiful woman
Drove me to near Chicago
In a red mustang
Might have been
The girl in the song
Took it easy
Digging her vibe
She invited home
But was not sure
If her estranged husband
Would welcome me
So, I am being foolish
And inexperienced with women
Did not go to her place
And always regretted
That I had lost
My chance that day
end part one
Categories:
hitchhiked, america,
Form:
Free verse
Once upon a time.
When time counted !!!
Once upon a time, what lived in my Girls, mind,
was all I needed to see the world by, and for it to be.
Now the father in me has become not, you see,
but memories of their play, days to never again find,
as from life, they shot me out,
leaving me to think, of days in parks, a scream, a shout,
higher, higher as I push them on their swings,
reminiscing of walks, through forests dark, in summer springs,
through the snow, in the pouring rain,
nights within childhood pain,
laying and playing on many beaches,
all within the ocean’s reaches.
In youthful notions, motions from bouncing on beds,
rainbows of many colours filling their heads
as we hitchhiked across Canada’s highways
and through many of adventure’s byways
that crossed many meandering brooks,
that now lay dormant in so many of my books.
Rivers cold, shivers bold, quivers as the story is told
of all that memory hold, in words that showed,
in many thousands of pictures that will never be sold.
B. J. “A” 2
February 3rd 2001
Categories:
hitchhiked, childhood, daughter,
Form:
Rhyme
We hardly knew we were children
When we trudged like soldiers
Through the new snow
As it draped the barren maple
Trees
Of the northeast
In a new winter coat,
We barely knew another world sang like
A mutable wind,
Beyond the phantom of
Small town madness
Where matriarchal rules
Danced like the sugarplum fairy
Right into the minds of its youth...
So,
Some of us hitchhiked out,
Long hair and guitars in hand,
Some flew to colleges out west,
And those that never left
Couldn’t believe there could be
One small bit of grace
In a new chorus of thought
Right smack in the middle of change,
So they stayed,
Just to be sure the four
Precise seasons
Still snapped into place,
And they too
Had children
Who didn’t know they were children
Year
After year.
Categories:
hitchhiked, 4th grade, america, child,
Form:
Free verse
The best vacation that I ever had,
was when I hitchhiked to Miami, Florida;
now, I know it was dangerous and bad,
but the trip was full of joyful euphoria !
I met wonderful people on the way,
and I stopped for a while in many quaint places;
for the first time I felt blue ocean spray,
soon, I was as brown as all the other faces !
On arrival I rented a cheap room,
so what if all my neighbors were mostly old folk;
I was like a sweet beach flower in bloom,
but something happened to me next that was no joke !
For I had stayed too long for a tourist,
and got arrested and deported by the court;
given a warning and slap on the wrist,
with free air fare home and a drive to the airport !
______________________
January 18, 2022
Poetry/Rhyme/Best Vacation Ever
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1422-649-18
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, My Favorite Vacation in Rhyme
sponsor, L MILTON HANKINS, Judged 02/04/2022
Fourth Place
Categories:
hitchhiked, vacation,
Form:
Rhyme
When I was a young man
I was foolish
and not afraid of anything
In the summer of 1975
I took a Greyhound bus
across the country
when my bus pass was stolen
I hitchhiked
across the country
and for two and 1/2 months
I traveled across the country
meeting all sorts of very strange people
experiencing the underbelly of American Society
now that I am 65
and I think back upon those days
I am horrified
that I did that
because now that I'm old man
I'm much more prudent
and much more careful
and much more afraid
but back then
being young and foolish
I did what a lot of young
and foolish people do
boldly go into the world
without a plan
just seeing where life took me
that made all the difference
in the world
Categories:
hitchhiked, travel,
Form:
Free verse
I was twenty,
and you were nineteen
that day along the mall
When I heard a guitar
from deep inside
that round auditorium hall
Up on stage with legends
Son House, Muddy,
Johnny Winter too
A red haired, freckle faced,
blue eyed girl
commenced to sing the blues
You started with an apology
saying you were outclassed
and over matched
But once that voice
left your heart and flew
….in nothing did you lack
I followed you out
that afternoon
in the late State College Fall
And after fifty years of looking back
every moment
I recall
I walked you to the bus
as you said:
“We’re in Harrisburg tonight
“Why don’t you come,
it might be fun
from there I catch a flight”
The bus was full,
my eyes looked south
as I hitchhiked down #322
Fate unexplained
life forever changed
—that special gift from you
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
Categories:
hitchhiked, love,
Form:
Rhyme