Best Revved Poems
A Poetry Souper, seeing bright stars,
Grabbed his PC and headed for Mars.
He’d make some dimes by writing rhymes,
Selling them to the New Mars Times.
Traveling through the ethereal blue,
With revved up rockets, his fervor grew.
Orbiting the moon to pick up speed,
He’d bust his buttons for this brave deed.
He saw fluffy clouds for God’s gentle feet,
And wondered if galaxies were places to meet.
He visualized skipping through outer space,
Dancing with angels, but couldn’t keep pace.
He thought of Mars, as candidly prime,
Poetry Soup’s outpost, so proudly sublime!
Thousands of Martians were quick to enroll,
Clamoring to setup new poetry goals.
Little red men, each sporting a grin,
Their three-fingered fisties bearing a pen.
Female Martians seemed to insist,
On whipping out sonnets with Shakespearian twists.
The red planet shining bright in the night,
Beckons to poets seeing its sight.
Schedule your flight, and do it right quick,
For poem palaver, it does a neat trick.
Categories:
revved, allegory, future, space, planet,
Form:
Quatrain
Love unexpectedly came,
pulled up and swung open the door
Took me on a thrill ride,
and I'm loving every moment of it
Passion autobahn,
no speed dating restrictions
Scenic route of the heart landscape,
shifting gears with the love joystick
It's a thrill ride,
such a rapid romantic ride
What a rush ... wind sweeping the hair
Hugging the curves,
throwing all caution up in the air
Don't mind the occasional speed bump:
those slick-paved spirited debates,
disagreements that test the limit of our patience
I love the coming together part,
as we enter the tunnel of love ...
whooshing in the dark
What a thrill ride,
I'm having the time of my life
Now we're moving slow,
got the motor set on cruise control
Your eyes are telling me
where you want my hands to go
Revved up kisses taste like
chocolate sundaes at the drive-in show
Don't pump the brakes
on this thrill ride
Hug me closer at the bend
Lets take this lover's highway
further than we could ever go as friends
Categories:
revved, fun, love, passion, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
We grew our hair down to our shoulders
Hirsute we were, moustaches and beards
Turned up our noses at those who were older
'Cos we were so hip, so freaky, so weird
Revved up our stereos, going stone-deaf
Dropped pill after pill, of common sense bereft
Wore psychedelic threads to match our psychedelic brains
We thought ourselves 'free,' but we were really in chains
Don't ask me if the Sixties were 'wonderful years!'
~ Just leave me alone with my cigars and my beer
Categories:
revved, america, drink, drug, fashion,
Form:
Rhyme
Please don't hit me again, please, please no more
Her tiny whisper met with a slammed door
and motor revved, as his car sped away.
But, he would be back by the end of day.
He would tell her that he would change his way.
"Babe, you know I didn't mean it," he'd say
"It's just there are many problems, you know.
If I don't find ease, at work I might blow."
Crumpled tissue lay tossed beside her feet.
reminders this madness would soon repeat.
She could tell Mom, who'd tell the neighborhood
Dad beat her, so she'd thought Mom understood.
Someone who listened was her best friend, Sue,
who told her exactly what she should do:
Find a group that protects against these things,
and you'll find the help togetherness brings.
When he got home that day, he found a note
that said, "Bud, here's a note that you can quote:
I hope you find that ease you're looking for.
Me: You'll not hit again. I've said No More!
Categories:
revved, abuse, anger, cry, hope,
Form:
Rhyme
“Route 66” (Part 2)
The Wicked Old Witch stalked her, flying above
on her revved up battered old Peugeot Stick made from
twigs and oderous putrifying brown crud.
Up to this point all silent, the ugly old hag now cackled her passive abuse,
“You may have those Red Shoes Dot, but what matters to me you dim-witted dove,
is that, I now possess forever,
what you truly “most” Love.
Dot was dying bit by bit from the inside, but her fierce Warrior Spirit,
kept her soul burning with pride,
her head held up high,
however, at this point in the story, she wished she had a big gun loaded
with sharp deadly bullets of Bromargyrite.
Dot ignored the covetous old hag, pitied her, that much can be said,
you see, her brother the mindless Scarecrow, was bolted up tight, locked in a cold Tin Shed -
(punishment, his crime: “no brain in his head”);
Dot continued to soldier on forward,
kept up her Warrior’s stride
and thought of the moral in that story about one’s own bed,
there was nowhere to hide.
Dot now thought to look down at her magic sparkling shoes,
Ruby Red,
thought clicking them twice but what was the point,
all that was Home was now dead.
Dot took her eyes off her feet, with eyes now open wide,
she stood stock still, she noticed with pure horror,
clearly understood -
Toto, whom she loved “Most” of all
was missing, no more by her side,
nowhere to be seen
in this dark nightmarish neighbourhood.
A Lion came out of nowhere emerged from the mist,
Somewhere a tawny owl hooted “Who? Who? Is this now a tryst?”
He was holding his tail and a deck of Queens Slippers,
He purred ever so nicely, “Where to now Missus?
I’ve got your back. I’ll stay true.”
“How hard can that be,” he thought, “to dissolve all of her indigo blues?”
Somewhere in the background all foggy
but right on track,
ACDC was playing, that song,
you know the one,
“The Jack”.
(Lovejoy-Burton/Dec 2017)
Categories:
revved, betrayal, courage, imagery, integrity,
Form:
Free verse
I had a Camaro,
my pride and joy.
She was fast as the wind.
My " big girl's " toy.
A three fifty small block
engine that purred.
When I revved that motor
it was all that you heard.
Zero to sixty
on a dime.
I had a lead foot then,
most of the time.
I've settled down some
now that I'm old.
My current car is slow,
like me, I am told.
But when I hear a motor
that roars in my ears,
it brings back memories
that can bring me to tears,
of a lead footed girl
and her car that could race.
Remembering them both
brings a smile to my face.
04/12/2015
Categories:
revved, car, youth,
Form:
Rhyme
I was alone
Travelling Interstate 80
Following the route of the early Western pioneers
2900 miles across the midsection of America
Stretching from the East Coast to California
In Utah home to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
The land becomes flat and straight
Large signs on the edge of the road
Warn drivers about fatigue and drowsiness
Tired and hungry
I drove on
Watching shadows move in the sunlight
Day turning into night
On an empty highway
Finally I stopped at a place off the road.
An old woman showed me around
Small talk
On a warm evening
Life is a delusion she said
Young man
There are terrible people out there
You ought to be careful
Cause you’re young you know.
The room was small
Fan cutting through the humid air
Telephone ringing in an empty room
Lights flickered
In the shadows
She pointed to a spot
Where an old man died
We kept the shabby couch she said
Too expensive to throw out
Out Here
We’re as practical
And frugal as the Mormons
So we kept it.
No sense in thinking about it any more
She whispered
The more you think
The more mixed up you get
Besides it’s wide
A bed for two and very comfortable.
I tried paying for the room
She looked in my face
Searching for something
Then down at the crumpled bills in my hand
Wetting her fingers she counted the money
I don’t know if you kids have everything
Or you have nothing
Time and experience will tell
I guess
Then she handed some of the money back to me
I don’t need that much
Beside it’s only money Son
That’s all it is
Life is short
You hold on to it
You’ll need it later
I looked puzzled
She smiled
We all have our secrets.
I was up early next morning
When the old woman appeared
I figured you’d be leaving soon she said
Heading West?
Yes I replied
Going to look for family out there?
No just myself
Afraid?
A little
Lightly touching my arm she said
Don’t be afraid. You’re young. There’s always been magic in a young heart
The roads are clear this time of morning.
Ride straight and you’ll do fine.
The engine revved up
I was moving at 60, then 70, then 80
Windows wide open
Wind pouring in
Not another car on the road
I was alive
I was free
The morning belonged to me.
Categories:
revved, lifewoman, old, money, old,
Form:
Narrative
She’s a buxom blonde with a pretty face,
Who carries herself with such strength and grace.
From the humblest of beginnings, she got her start
Her songs are sweet poetry that comes from the heart.
There’s power in her words and I am lifted up high
By lovely songs like Silver and Gold and Love is like a Butterfly.
And a Coat of Many Colors always brings a tear to my eye
While working 9 to 5 leaves me feeling all revved up and alive.
Dolly’s quite a storyteller and with the turn of a phrase
She’ll wrap you up in her soft hearted ways.
Full of glitz and glam, she’s quite a showgirl
But she’s a down home country gal, in a showboat world.
She writes about life experiences and what she sees
Just the same as any poet, I’m sure you’ll agree
And with a voice so sweet, steady and strong
I hope her words will echo, on and on.
© 06-29-2012
Dolly Parton
For: What songwriter Inspires you Contest
Categories:
revved, music, people, words,
Form:
Rhyme
(Sundays)
Each street sounded of
Lawn mowers, laughter, bicycles and bells
The odd car being revved up
And oh my! The heavenly smells
Each towns aroma was roast beef
Gravy and yorkie puds
When hungry tummies with baited breaths
Sneaked to the shops for sweets and other forbidden goods
Latch dogs roamed free in packs or joined in with us kids
Depositing delights, creating awful smelly skids
Ken Dod and his Diddy men, duster in his hand
'isn't it a nice day!' as he skipped through Diddy land
'eat up all your Brussels now!'
What a ruddy shame
That dog hates them as much as me
Traitor! Should be his name
Sneak off down the brick fields for some fun a fight or swim
Come home filthy and lie
About 'where on earth you've been?'
Four in a bath to stew and wash each others backs
Waters at a shortage now, unlike the dreaded smacks
Off to bed cross Lino floor to reach the bottom bunk
Can't wait to grow up now
And be a rebellious punk
Categories:
revved, childhood, nostalgia,
Form:
Imagism
Dawn’s arms rock us awaken
First light guides our eyes open
A minute or two we bask
Before we rise to the tasks
Buzzing we go, all duty
Not missing the melody
Of plans laid out well in war
When the battle cry did warn
Signs were posted in plenty
In aches of flesh past groaning
Clocks ticked too fast to keep up
We sensed the call to the Sun
Finally armed and fueled
We three and the engine revved
Taking routes always farther
Away from the walled master
Warmer becomes flesh and heart
As we steer like movie stars
Heads high to catch the sun’s drops
Eyes shaded in blissful lost
Soon we are flying through air
Passing green-eyed rooms with cheer
Bucolic scenes blaze colors
How beautifully they merge
Tempo slows as deep blue nears
Silent, the wait comes to bear
Descent is smooth, toes sink in
Digging in grains so golden
It is here we recover
Here, we let go of the war
Categories:
revved, beach, stress, sun, vacation,
Form:
Narrative
Noxious noise too loud is absurd
What's the point of saying a word?
Some bikers adore
A Harley's revved-up roar
And tread on my right to be heard!
Author's note: How about a wedding band so loud that there's no chance of a conversation at the table? Why do the people generating the noise have no idea? Who is shunning gentleness and subtlety for the sake of shock and awe? What happened to democracy's sense of empathy and fairness? Where is the government regulation to assure peace and quiet? When will my ears get a break?
Categories:
revved, urban,
Form:
Limerick
Please read part 1 first
When Moe got off the phone, he couldn't believe his luck
Somehow he'd managed to hire, a great big monster truck
He opened up the back door and chucked his luggage in
Then flew up to the drivers seat his journey to begin
From way up in the cab, Moe could see for many miles
The patchwork fields below him looked like tiny mosaic tiles
Off on his way now, see the wheels roll
But Standing in the road was the giant troll
"Mr Troll, Mr Troll, please let me past"
"Not on your nelly, I know you are the last.
I'm tired and I'm hungry and I've waited all day long
I'll eat your truck for supper, out you get, run along"
From his seat in the monster truck way up high
Moe could look the troll straight in the eye
The troll looked back, not quite sure what was happening
As Moe revved the engine in a way that was quite threatening
The truck sped forward, Moe's course did not alter
And as the gap got smaller the troll began to falter
Just in the nick of time, the troll jumped out the way
and fell into the river where he quickly washed away
Soon Moe reached the seaside, where he found Flo and Joe
He told them what had happened to their giant foe
And as they sat on the beach, drinking lemonade
Moe raised a wing his eyes to shade
"What's that shape over there, far out to sea
It's troll shaped boat, I think it's waving at me"
So now you know the story of their little holiday
And how the three flamingos got there that fine day.
Categories:
revved, children,
Form:
Rhyme
Police and fire sirens blare
An early emergency somewhere
Neighbor’s water squeaking thro’ the pipes
Two cats clawing each other’s stripes
Traffic hums and honks, tires squeal
In such a hurry…what’s the big deal?
Mower of lawns and whacker of weeds
Garbage man missed: in-reverse beeps
Nearby pickup started and revved up loud
I’m not quite used to this urban crowd
Cell phone buzzes, again I slap the snoozer
I wonder: would I prefer a rooster?
Categories:
revved, city, sound,
Form:
Rhyme
She tore me apart
under a rockabilly sunset;
Set me free from the
sway of pop culture jive
with her bass-line booty.
She smelled like gasoline,
tasted like cherries,
and made my heart rumble like a .454
And she knew she had me,
when she dropped her hair
outta that black bandanna,
wrapped it it round my neck,
and lit me up with
…Pontiac red lips.
Yeah, she tore me down
like a fixer-upper,
built me back up,
and revved me high.
Reeedd liinedd by those
spider web leggins’.
I know she’s mine,
thank God in Heaven.
Cuz when she whispers in my
ear “Baby, lets go for a ride”
I can’t find a way to make
this monster glide.
We’re stuck in high gear,
bound to make it outta town
for’ daddy knows I got her
sittin’ in the middle of my bench
seat ‘stead of that church pew.
I know he’ll come a lookin’
but as long as we keep bookin’
we’ll make it to horizon ‘for the
world even knows we’re gone.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved
Categories:
revved, beautiful, imagery, leaving, longing,
Form:
Free verse
ON THE SCRAPHEAP OF LIFE
When we married you got my engine running, but now I want to sleep
I’ve just failed my annual service, you said my defects ran too deep
My sleek curves have lost their polish, I’m destined for the scrapheap
So you’re trading me in for a younger model, now I just sit and weep
Because this once racy little motor you no longer want to keep
My once classy chassis you always used to admire
I’ve got many miles to go, maybe I just need a hot wire
With some gas in my tank we could re-ignite the fire
But my body is rather dented, and I’ve gain a spare tire
The trusty mechanics say they’ll work both day and night
To ensure that my engine is running just right
I’ll be in showroom condition and look a delight
After many years, there’s bound to be wear and tear
So please don’t trade me in or keep me as a spare!
When my intermittent faults are fixed I’ll be going at full throttle!
My defects can be reversed, although it won’t be cheap
when the wheels are in motion, you’ll be filled with desire
all revved up, honey I’ll be giving you the green light
My engine is still running, I just need to know you care
If you toss me on the scrapheap… I’ll break down and hit the bottle
Minuanetta Contest
Sponsored by Gregory R Barden
2/21/18
Categories:
revved, conflict, funny love, relationship,
Form:
Rhyme