Best Revving Poems
I am to him a Stradivarius, a treasured violin
His bow expertly caresses my supple strings
My body moans when tucked beneath his chin
Revving to his rhythmic pulse, my heart sings
I am the delicate ivory he strokes on his keyboard
his adventurous fingers roam over me in staccato
Those romantic interludes he's adeptly scored
accompanies intimacy to the point of crescendo
I am the mouthpiece on his golden saxophone
Our blues brings about passion and lustful desire
From a distance I hear the pitch of a lone trombone
Emotions build with the heat of a roaring wildfire
Across the well worn bridge of his idle acoustic guitar
I yearn for the virtuoso's touch to strum my chords
But there's no harmony, although we've come so far
No gliding glissandos found at the tips of drawn swords
Now he plays mournful melodies on a native Hopi flute
Reflecting our lives in every wistful and somber note
We're both lost, wandering like phantoms in pursuit
of lost love. We're adrift without oars or sail for our boat
With each wave a tear falls as I lay sheltered in the bow
He sits astern listening to music whistled by the wind
staring at the far horizon with worry etched on his brow
Is this, I wonder, punishment for those who have sinned
Flutes, ahead laying the routes
Oboes they off to Villalobos
Harps, dusting off vessel tarps
Violin silenced by engine din
Cello, matching the revving bellow
Piano sad in the canoe
Clarinets are taking private jets
Horns, fasten seatbelts the Captain warns
Cymbal off checking the gimbal
Saxophone, sorry plane now flown
Bassoon missed flight in June
Trumpets in London loving crumpets
Timpanis tanning in Florida Keys
Tambourine, ouch you forgot sunscreen
Drum in Jamaica sipping on rum
Trombones still crossing time zones
Tuba, where else but Cuba!!
Early 60’s feeling my oats, slow moving wasn’t my bag
56 Chevy, foot to the floor, looking for someone to drag
He’s a Rebel on the radio, smell of gasoline was strong
Marked off a stretch of highway, exactly one mile long
I made my way to the starting line, foot getting heavy
Ford was revving up hot, but nothing beats my Chevy
There’s no feeling on earth like starting to drag
Her sweater on a stick was our checkered flag
I said I’d like to hang around but I’ve got a hot date
So while you’re driving that Ford, read my license plate
I slammed my foot to the floor and could feel the thrust
When I looked in the mirror, the Ford was eating my dust
Next Sunday morning, I was on the way to see my girl
I saw a Nash Rambler and thought I’d give him a whirl
I pulled along side him as we approached a mile long hill
Thinking that beating his butt would give me a thrill
Now I looked over at him, smiled and waved good bye
Then he waved back and I thought I would cry
There was no way it should happen the Rambler went pop
I was half way up the hill, he was over the top.
Instead of seeing my girl, I drove all around town
Trying to find the car that put my Chevy down
The fastest thing I had ever seen moving on dry land
I just wanted to find the driver for a chance to shake his hand
Sometimes I think of times we had, drag racing way back then
Though I searched for years I never saw that Nash Rambler again
The Hollywood hills still echoes with his
Rebellious yell, we are the forever young
Generation.
An iconic American symbol, to this the lost
Age of innocence.
Nay did this rebel die without a cause,
I think not, in my humble opinion, he
Died for his desire for speeds acceleration,
In death's ironic twist of fate, James Dean's
Name became immortalized as an epic tragedy,
Of youthful hearts seeking to be wild and free,
Without any consequences.
A teen idol who went out in a blaze of glory,
Revving His engine hell bound for destiny's,
Rock-n-roll Hall of Fame.
A nation wept in despair mourning for the
Loss of one so young and full of life.
Sorrows children cried in disbelief laying roses,
At his final resting place.
The jukeboxes remained silent with respects,
Reverence, and bikers gave him a rebel send off.
A generation whom believed they were bullet proof,
Realized how human life could be extinguished,
Within the flash point of on coming head lights.
James Dean's ashes were swept away swallowed,
Whole by time itself.
Now he's nothing but a tarnished star in histories,
Memorabilia case on display for all to see,
And remember, this the first easy rider.
JFK dream vision illusion of Camelot has faded to gray,
And Elvis now sings in a more heavenly chorus,
In the great beyond.
But before these man took the center stage, another
Walked the thin line of immortality's rebel fighting,
For a cause.
One lone figure rides into the night across freedoms,
Highway, and his name was James Dean.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
7/20/19
"I'll be your Joker"
Still a registered voter
Signed up to be an organ donor
And finally became a car owner
I rarely use a controller
When it's time, I'll man up and buy a stroller
As well as panels that are solar
Near and far from areas that are polar
Doesn't matter if I ever get a Range Rover
Or Roadster
I'm barely ever sober
Always been a loner
And stoner
3 months away from another October
If you want to be my Harley Quinn, I'll be your "Joker"
Not no poser
Where are you Scully? This is agent Mulder
Anytime you want, I'll be your shoulder
To lean on
From here to way beyond
For eons
Where's my Marge? I am Homer
I'll be your rock over and over
Since I've gotten nobler
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder
I've seen it so much, I could compile a folder
Life's one giant rollercoaster
It's really revving my motor
All these women giving me a b***r
And then the cold shoulder
As if I am an ogre
I remain a soldier
Drinking high end coffee, no more Folgers
Getting wiser and older
Becoming bolder
As the world gets colder
I'm not feeling dolor
Just multi tasking, while a fire continues to smoulder
Maintaining my composure
Finding closure
Getting closer
To greatness instead of being mediocre
I enjoyed the work I did with several growers
As well as trapping some gophers
Occasionally I'll partake in poker
Even though I'm not the best hoaxer
Once or twice I used a fire stoker
When it came to Mary Jane, I was a doter
A fan of it's fragrance, it's not what I'd call an odor
I consume some products made by Clover
And am usually in places considered remoter
It's time I get a toaster and holster
I don't really need a Flame Thrower
Or to get my face on a most wanted poster
Suit yourself if you want to wear a boater
Or choker
Houses in continual foreclosure
Not always wise to go for the price that is lower
Someday my mind and body will be slower
And one day it'll all be over
10-4 over and out
And now you know, what i'm really about
Not just by word of mouth
As they say don't look a gift horse in the mouth
Regardless of if you had your doubts
By: Dalton Ogletree
Cat-suited and cute
Baring flesh to her navel
Her bronzed body
In wanting able
Wrists manacled
As her chest pouts
The needing of join
Her heart shouts
In tethered mode
With silken scarves
To her body delight
One caresses her curves
Her chest rises
Saluting his touch
His manly hands
Now in cupped clutch
Their lips meet
Tongues entwined
Tasting licking
De-vine in dine
Catsuit peeled
Down her wanting curves
Her eyes yearning
For his manly serves
As she lies there manacled
Hungering for their zest
His adventurous kissing
Starting from her breasts
Torso traversed
As her scents allure
Following her aroma
Heavenly pure
Her thighs, she holds
His manly shape
Eventually
His shadow drapes
Two engines tuned
To race in time
Revving hearts
In loving rhyme
Manacles opened
To feel her caress
Absorbing each other
Inner flowing finesse
Our sighs in rhythm
Kissing unites
Dove and her Highlander
Cat-suited delight
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love5.php
The rain outside my door
Its talk, a calming effect
Upon my restless spirit, implores
the need to reflect.
The rain, drenching the moors
Its pounding upon rocky crests
Like the clapping of hands, soars
Upon the senses, dissolving stress.
The rain inviting me outdoors
Its plead to leave the comfort of concepts
Exchanging the warmth of safe indoors
For the dramatic cold of clarity, intercepts.
The rain, cleansing a downpour
Its relentlessness stripping the walls erected
Around the damaged heart, explores
Upon new possibilities, wider directed.
The rain, beckoning a force
Its puddles upon my feet impress
With childlike laughter, a dance extorts
Revving the spirit, the genuine soul expressed.
By CarolineCécile
copyright © 02.06.10
Gasoline lips fueled our adenosine kisses
filling up on whiskey and cigarette wishes
your rubber met my asphalt, land mines
dodging, heaving blame on both fault lines
worn the tread off our poor tired hearts
trading each other for cheap spare parts
Revving my engines under a new hood
Stick shift ready,I'll grind his gears good
Wrapped ...
In dark wonder
Lost to the moon
In mists of madness
We ...
Are conflagration
You burn my blood
The fiery chaos, coursing
Molten forms in synchronicity
A libidinous engine, erotique
Revving inside you ...
I, the sudoric hand to your glove
Crimson nails rake my chest
You grind me, pestle-on-mortar
Eyes above me rolling back in carnal bliss
I stop, and wait ... teasing
Your gaze returns the moon's delirium
Seeing my vexing grin ...
You squeeze my cheeks like a naughty child
Trembling ... anticipating
Eyes pleading ...
I wait ... building tension ... need
Milking your desire and intensity
And when the want in your eyes is unbearable
I relent, and push you slowly up
Arching with renewed passion and depth
Your hair and soft places lilt
Hypnotizing me ...
Coy, sexy smile ...
Letting me think I'm in control
When we both know
Otherwise ...
Wrapped ...
In dark wonder
Lost to the moon
In mists of ...
US.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Picture Prompt" Poetry Contest, Brenda Chiri, Judge & Sponsor.
As I put the key in the ignition
To win this race is my only ambition
I love to hear the roar and smell the fuel;
All the cars are revving up to join the duel
I’m ready to make the black sport clutch drop
The excitement is in the air and every heart stops
I give more gas to hear the engine roar
Trust me I’m ready to put the metal to the floor
Both of my hands are tightly gripping the steering wheel
That adrenaline rush and my extreme appetite for danger is what I love to feel
Right foot pressed to the accelerator
As my fate lies beside two parallel lines
Helmet on it’s my time to shine
I can’t wait to see you way behind me in the rear view mirror
As I increase my speed maneuvering through each situation
Okay let’s be honest to race my car it's an obsession
The clock is my enemy, but speed is my only friend
I’m always focused on to win, and only to win
A Porsche squats by the side of the road,
keys tucked in the ignition.
We stare at the coupe with our salivating glands…
this devilish hint revving our hidden pleasure.
Slowly, slowly we cross the street
on impulse, Roy and I open the door,
gliding our bodies unto the pompous seats
as wheels start the trip, reeling like a breeze.
Not a soul in sight; this is a twosome joy ride!
With nary a conscience, we ram this big-time treat;
sliding a playlist right down metal -rock road.
Then, boomed a noise louder than the soundtrack
popping flamed lights, sirens in the distance…
oh, we just wanted some naughty fun;
but, men with badges are after us now.
The timing and urge for adventure, too brief
Our luck written on crisscrossed stars…
beneath flashy neon, we got whacked,
Roy and I hauled a thief’s runaway car!
Carol Eastman's Humor Contest
by nette onclaud... * from the perspective
of two young men, partly fictional*
1/18/2015
Can you put your pedal to the metal
Let me feel the force
Yeah’ put your pedal to the metal
Race around this course
I wanna hear that engine
Smell that rubber burn
Hear them wheels spinning
As we hit that blinding curve
Come on put your pedal to the metal
Slam your foot to the floor
Let me hear those tyres
Make them squeal some more
I want to smell that burning
Of rubber on the road
Keep that engine revving
Full right lock here we go
Round and around
This car so hot
No don’t let of that throttle
Show me want she’s got
Come on hit that gas
Rev it hard, don’t you know
That's a V12 engine
under the bonnet
Let's have a Smokey Joe
Put your pedal to the metal
Hear that engine roar
The wheels are spinning furiously
Come on, I want more
They're pouring out with smoke
Those tyres turning on the floor
Let's see what she can handle
Hit that pedal hard for sure
© Copyright KC. Leake
11th January 2015
All Rights Reserved
Said my car,
Beautiful,
drive me in lover boy,
Slowly, Slowly,
Owe-wee
This is so congenial.
Let me savor every moment.
So tight you are revving every muscle in me.
Love it!
sweating a sheen on me,
like a fresh coat of wax.
Ah, Ah, Aha-a!
This is ecstatic,
keep me parked right here.
Don't move a squint.
Wow I am in Lovers Lane.
I mean every car would want to park here
but this Garage is mines.
12/3/2013 © A. Juman The "said" Poet
Type In (A. Juman) For A relaxing and astonishing moment with all my POEMS
At the Track
At the starting line
Engines revving vroom, vroom, vroom
Burning rubber - GO
Flags are waving zoom, zoom, zoom
Better stop now for new tires
Hashtags polling
virtual war, viral
naija stand by
wait!
Fall they will,
like pack of cards
in the face of cash
Sandcastle disco!
Sing-song voice, rings hello
trained roll of the tongue
cultivated baritone
a pitch here and there, emoting
Back in chains
tongue under this blade lies
cool, feeling cool,
hugging the chains
listening to the Cool FM
What a way to be cool?
Mangling words
tangling slurs and extended 'r's
silent 't's revving
superiority screaming
welcome back
Voice picked out of the box
tailored, washed&Iron dried
even those whose fathers'
couldn't afford a tube
told stories of summer school
in harmattan
Gonna, wanna, perhaps fonna
from the mastery of their tongues
came out slightly, then wholly
half baked sausages
dropping with a dum!
announcing back in chain
Laugh, they laugh at 'my fellow widows'
her version of English mimicry worthy
strength of character makes a wife
not the slurred 'r's and dimmed 't's
Don't get it twisted
So the next time she comes
thinned out at her vitals
'nasal-ing, tangling& mangling' words
be patient to tell her to untie her knots
before cavorting you to sleep in peace
back in chain your fathers bled off their necks