Best Mechanic Poems
I'm searching for a new man.
(My lemon quit on me.)
I'm a discerning seeker.
(The smallest dent, I'll see!)
I want a younger fellow;
(Low mileage is a must.)
Required is great get-up-and-go
(an engine with no rust).
He should desire me in his lap.
(Seat warmers feel so good.)
He's gotta be in tiptop shape.
(I'll know what's under the hood!)
Low-maintenance, I value.
(oil changes quarterly)
He must look good and make me proud.
(Buffed shine, I love to see.)
Trustworthiness, I so desire.
(Don't like those tow truck calls!)
He must always keep pace with me.
(Don't want a thing that stalls.)
April 1, 2017--entered in Brian Strand's April 2017 Premier Contest
The Automobile Mechanic
The automobile mechanic was originally
a car owner who carried out his own repairs
during the turn of the 19th Century.
These days, it is a person who endeavours to fix
the car problems of the everyday motorist
he is part engineer, detective, and miracle worker
all rolled into one, when the motorist expects their car
virtually fixed at a moment's notice.
He is truly a modern day unsung hero to most
who keep their car in tip top condition
although the mechanic seldom gets
the credit that he or she rightly deserves.
The Mechanic
Frank Halliwell
Sam was a gynecologist,
But he'd done his last swab,
For after ten long years, he had
Grown weary of the job.
So he took down his diploma,
And the shingle off the door,
To seek a new horizon for
His talents to explore.
Now trees and shrubs were not his style
He'd shun those jobs botanic,
But wheels and gears might be the thing
..He'd be a car mechanic!
So off he went to take a course
To learn how someone solves
Why cylinders go up and down
While gears and wheels revolve.
He graduated at the top,
The hero of his class.
His marks were of the highest
Any student had amassed!
To-morrow was the 'practical',
The very final test,
And each and every student
Would be straining for his best.
An automotive engine was
Spread out along the floor
And he had just a single hour
To make that engine roar!
Sam was the last to take the test,
The head judge waved okay..
A wrench was slapped into his hand..
The test was underway.
His fingers moved at blinding speed,
His moves precise and neat.
And long before the closing bell
The engine was complete.
He nodded it was ready and
A judge switched on the key.
The engine roared without a miss
..Sam was the top trainee!
He was awarded record points
The reasons obvious!
When asked about those record points
The coach explained it thus:
'I've never seen a job so slick,
Without one washer lost,
...Or seen an engine rebuilding
Performed through the exhaust..!
***
Me and my mechanic,
we be tight
Whenever my ride goes down,
he get it running right
My mechanic is a real auto pro,
when I send my car to him,
nowhere else do I need go
And on top of that,
he works with your checkbook,
he's very affordable
If you don't have a mechanic like mine,
when your car stops running, you're gonna be
reaching deep in your pockets every time
Paying for this, paying for that
Paying til you're down to your last dime,
and you're broke and have to walk
I suggest you walk right on over
to this good mechanic of mine,
he'll get your car back running fine ...
and leave some money in your pocket too
Saving you some leather on the bottom of your shoe
In his tiny eyes,
I saw a little glance of life,
His innocent face reflects his poverty,
As he was facing a great storm in himself,
His gloomy voice telling me a legend of his broken dreams,
He was too small for that school,
A little mechanic with a bag of tool,
His childhood spending along,
Playing with screw driver and handsaw,
The sun molesting him through his light,
Abusive language incises his feelings of delight,
Brow beating by his cruel master,
He was too small for that disaster,
A little mechanic with a lots of fears,
Every evening my bus was passing near his workshop,
I saw him and he smiles as he was happy with his life,
Besides his beautiful smile,
i was reading his griefs file,
Too many desires alive,
How much he was brave,
Changes his face like a wave,
May God help him and Save,
I pray for him everyday,
He was too small for that aim,
A little mechanic with a strong faith,
He can fix anything
no matter the year
the make, the model
but has his own way
No, just throw that
on the scrapheap
with all the others
Seriously, I just
want to work
I hate people
mostly but not always
Get a bigger hammer
depression my foot
you need a one way ticket
to Ethiopia
I'm having a smoke
it's thinking time
need to get more guns
but that's another matter
now I know how it works
only took three ciggies
Most tradies rip off their
best customers cause they can
but that's bull you don't
need it
No, just throw that
on the scrapheap
with all the others.
Old tin roof, plastered adobe walls that were melting
Two big Cottonwood trees, junk cars in the back
Cracked concrete floor, covered with oil and grease
Mexican kids running in and out, playing and screaming
Couple of water jugs, covered with gunny sack
In all of this was some sort of peace
Joes Montes was the owner, we just called him Joe
Joe spoke good broken English, had a little accent
Talked a lot with his hands, pointing at this and that
Did not advertise, everyone knew Old Joe
Been there for years, did not pay any rent
Always wore a greasy cap, never wore a hat
Farmers up and down the valley swore by Joe
When a tractor was down, they knew who to call
Jump in his old truck and he was there
Been known to use bailing wire, he would make them go
Cotton pickers to a hale bailer, he worked on them all
Never charged much, was always fair
Adobe wall have melted, Joe has passed away
In that old shop where a lot of memories were made
No telling how many tractors Joe made run
Tractors now have computers, not in Joe's day
The Cottonwood trees make no more shade
Joe was a tractor fixing son of a gun
Once upon a time I could change the oil and give the car a lube,
Tune the timing, change the plugs and patch an inner tube.
In days of yore I'd do simple jobs beneath the old elm tree.
Nowadays, I daren't twist a wrench without an engineer's degree!
In olden days things were simple to work on beneath the hood.
Stuff crammed under the hoods today is not at all understood!
Why! You must pull the doggone engine to fix a simple leak,
And everything is diagnosed by a smart-alecky computer geek!
Now I can't even locate the spark plugs, I must humbly confess,
And where the life-sustaining battery reposes is anybody's guess!
I must even contact the local garage to get the radiator filled.
'Tis plain to see that all is governed by the national mechanic's guild!
In simpler times the way to detect an errant rod and piston knock,
Was to put a screwdriver to your ear and listen through the block.
Nowadays, technicians lounge about with computers in their paws,
And in a trice can flesh out your automobile's ailing flaws!
Back then, I could replace brake linings and distributor caps,
Change a fan belt or replace a gasket or two perhaps.
But all these fancy gadgets are beyond me - I can't figure them out.
So I'll gnash my teeth and sit beneath the spreading elm and pout!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Please allow me to introduce,
Without any pardon or excuse,
A man who needs no introduction,
To those he’s given instruction,
A man who has always helped me,
To understand extreme fallacy,
Through guidance and edification,
He spreads his extreme education,
Now he never reserves his lessons,
And always leaves his impressions,
Upon those he teaches his schtick,
For he is our scholastic mechanic,
Always he tinkers under the hood,
To find the best of what is good,
And now without further adieu,
I am proud to present to you,
A man who’s mind always races,
And affords us other head cases,
A view most definitely skewed,
By great wisdom and high I.Q.,
A man whom I proudly call my brother,
Who’s humble wit makes him tougher,
Than my boastful wages however manic,
…Our G-Man the scholastic mechanic!
He didn't blossom out with vive,
have all the answers to self-live,
your problem at his door, arrive!
He'd say to wait, yet still today
in moments strife ~ he'd say OK
Your car ~ his home, in the driveway!
His small garage, filled to the brim
with parts and projects from his friends
Paul's willingness" could not be bought!
Paul's name not estimate his fee
a "cash" you'd think ~ its sure not free,
he'd plunge right in ~ his harmony!
His trailer home, no yard to mow
white pebbles lacing, concrete's show
no extra work to grasp renown!
"Its plugged, burned out", or just is "blown!"
his knowledge kept your sorrow down
"But can you fix it" ~ you'd condone!
He had the parts, just here and there
his small garage, a farm somewhere
the cost'd be small, he kept it fair !
- to be continued -
You put new parts in my car that didn't need to be replaced.
You claim to be a reputable mechanic but you're two-faced.
Because of you, people spend more money that they work hard to earn.
We need that money for food and bills, we're getting tired of being burned.
You know what you do isn't right.
How are you able to sleep at night?
You replaced my friend's driveshaft and I know it was something that his car didn't need.
You're laughing now but after I call the Better Business Bureau, you may not continue to succeed.
Your business practices are something that people truly detest.
I won't rest until you become reputable or are put out of business.
(This is a fictional poem but it's reality for many people.)
I like to sit and watch them boys
Tinker with their toys
Hood up, hands grimy
Sweat pouring down handsome faces
Oil spots in weird places
I like to sit and watch them work with a master’s poise
Those car loving boys
I love to watch them
gently
O p e n
a portion of their hearts
Brave Chiseled faces soften
Polishing seldom seen chrome smiles and illuminating smarts
And every so often
If bad enough, rusty rim spots
I enjoy
Witnessing the Magic of mechanics
Gazing at the devotion streaming
From ignitions, and the spark
Plugs closing the world off
It’s just him and his baby
He knows what’s wrong by the sound of her voice
When she chokes or when her axle will give out
Lover’s intuition
Propping open her chest and knowing
Where her nerves are, and how to touch her just right
A mechanic knight on a mission
A twist here, a yank there
A closer inspection
A poke, a dusting,
A little loving
Some gentle scrubbing
The excitement when she finally purrs
Like a Tiger
Sleek and shiny
Curvaceous and Dangerous
When at her best
So for the Rice Boys with a Mitsubishi Eclipse
The restored Mustangs or project whips
The Homeboys Lowridin’
Hydraulics jumpin’ , bass pumpin’, mind grindin’
Cadillac Macks with wood grain and leather
Or those Bad Boys with Harley’s that can go in any kind of weather
sugar sweet cowboys with pick-up trucks
Rich boys with Jaguars that like to get crunk
Papi Chulos with SUV’s
Shot gun is where I want to be
Mm, Baby, imagine it
Ain't you badder than bad?
With the stereo blasting our favorite song
Darkest Tint, sunglasses on
Your two favorite Ladies by your side
Slick
I promise
I will never get jealous or act suspicious
I’m fine being the mistress as long as
he has the patience
understands my high maintenance
And , for sure
that he knows how to
Make MY engine
Roar
Hey !
I want
To borrow
Your motor bike
I'll let you have all the bits back later.
Written 22nd September 2019
Picture number 4.
For make it five poetry contest
Sponsored by Joseph May.
That little drive ~ filled ~ waiting cars
just others, counting "lucky stars"
Paul did it right, not many marrs!
Paul also was this small town's cop
to just curb violence, drinking's flop
so many years can use you up!
One time Paul came on 911
a possum ventured in our house
the cupboards clutter was its run!
A blanket in his swarthy hands
he grabbed the possum taking heed
down to the River ~ they'd proceed!
One time when I was in a wreck
he came to fill in his report
I'd broke most all, except my neck!
He knew the guy ~ a careless sort
who owned the town, riches resort
a stop sign never quelled his sport!
Paul vowed to catch the guy at bay
and parked nearby this guy's outlay
it just went on ~ til fateful day!
The guy turned over in a ditch
taking the light pole with its wires
the 911 not called, no switch!
Don't tell the town its favorite boy
had met his match
through his own play!
Our town's "nice guy" in every way
Paul made it by his real concern,
not harnessed by the upper class!
Paul gave his best ~ until the last!
Paul Cash expired 4-26-2010 this year. There were so many in
attendance, that the town had rented the High School Gym, cars
overflowing, the town shared its heart that day!
How many nice small town guys do you know! Not trying to be #1 at any Super Sport!
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I've got alot of kids
So, alot of vehicles I've got
My property is starting to look like
A used parking lot
Some are talented in writing
Music for some
The army for a few
Mechanically talented-none
I can do alot
But surgery has taken use of my arm
All I need is a mechanic
Not his ego charm
I've tried three different men
Referrals from some friends
All I get is asked out on a date
I like being a single mom...
That's it, that's all...AMEN!