Best Showroom Poems


Premium Member If I Shopped For My Spouse Like I Shop For My Automobile

My man was old and battered and was destined for the scrap heap
He’d failed his annual MOT as his many defects ran far too deep
His motor was still running but he had an intermittent fault
He’d nod off when we were making love – (I’d feel a sudden jolt!)

His once full head of blonde gleaming hair
Can be polished, as it now it’s thinning there 
With aching joints that my man once trusted
He needed a service as his parts were rusted

So I took him to the used man showroom to see what they could do
They gave him full service to see if his parts they could renew
They said he still had many miles to go and they no longer made this model 
But if I had his engine repaired he’d be going at full throttle

The trusty mechanics worked day and night
To ensure that his engine was running just right
They polished his body, now you should see it shine
He’s back to how he was now his motor is just fine!!!

If I’d trawled the showrooms would I want to replace
The one who’d stuck by me and kept a smile on my face
I’ve no wish to trade him in or keep him as a spare
After many years together there’s bound to be wear and tear!

FUN FICTION WRITE FOR THE CONTEST!

IF I SHOPPED FOR MY SPOUSE LIKE I SHOP FOR MY AUTOMOBILE CONTEST
Sponsored by Cindi Rockwell
Form: Rhyme

Love Will Never Falter

Together we lie on the crimson sheet
Hands pressed together, we are now complete
Worlds apart in so many ways
Our eyes fixed on each other with agaze
Years have passed since we last laughed
We need to rediscover our craft
But, Time is short when you reach life’s peak
Our body’s are worn down like a showroom antique
Our love for each other will never falter or cease
It’s now time for us to close our eyes and make peace
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Of Muscle and High Spirits

Vehicles, muscled cars were built, to be fast;
creatures of iron and steel; 
the wildest beasts.

In the day of manufactured power, Lynx and Jaguar raced; thunderbirds flew low to ground with wings, 
as fast as, a road runner.

The mighty Chevy of “57” dreams; 
leant compassions ear to young Edsel, 
when he failed his popularity test.

Lightening swift, these darts did fly; 
racing down, route “66” back then, 
the pride supported its own.

Metal, mega-mammals, like all others; 
live and die their last wheeze and cough, 
recorded by the crusher.

Those who signed away body parts; 
the donors left a re-built legacy.

Beautiful and powerful, as their ancestors; 
legacy lives on but, route “66” is a much milder path.

In Heaven’s showroom; 
lion and lamb lie, side-by-side; 
these are the souls of the metal mammals.


Premium Member Loving Arms

Inspired by:F.MacKenzie Roberts 
Photo of a Raccoon holding a cat 



A Raccoon in the showroom can you imagine that
now see if you can imagine one holding a cat
never in my life did I think I would see
A little striped cat being held such as he...
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Life As a Car

My Life as a Car

Rusted and busted see my orange face
Used to grace the showroom place
See these broken eyelights that shone so bright
They saved your life one darkened night
Edsel body, wet shell to forget
Dear little voices asked “Are we there yet?”
And still my memories are mildew clear
Now through the busted fenders to yesteryear
Down the road we'd go far and wide
By rolling hills of still countryside
Uria finally got his license one day
So, in the back seat, he and Neat did lay
Taking lunch on a hunch by the road
Early moving morn and those three trunk loads
Days soon came with the clanks, clinks and pings
Can’t start, what’s wrong?  everything
As grass grows up under my lowly gears
Road memories are crystal clear
Form: Acrostic

Ramblings of a Graveyard Shift Worker....

I used to complain about having to work at night on weekends.
Everyone was having fun but li'l ol' me.
Some years back I had an epiphany on the matter.
Suddenly, I had time to cash my check AND pay my bills!
Then, I might possibly catch a movie, which has plenty of seating on Monday nights!
But my favorite part is: The People Zoo.
I started visualizing folks in their cubicles and at their counters as exhibits.
You find mostly monkeys in cubicles working for some government agency.
The sharks you'll find in the car lots and on showroom floors.
The insects buzzing and dutifully mimicking their peers are found at schools.
The buzzards and carrion feeders can be found at law firms and in courtrooms.
The bulls and bears can be found scrapping it out on Wall street,
While the elephants and donkeys exchange insults on the TV monitors.
The pigs are found cruising the streets making sure the rats and snakes don't take over.
The blood-sucking Vampire bats can be found working for insurance companies.

BUT.......

Just a warning: Most of these exhibits offer you no protection from the brutality of nature!
There are no tour guides and no guarantees of safety or fun.....
And, one more thing: They will eventually come to see you in YOUR exhibit!
© Jim David  Create an image from this poem.


Nairobi

Stands a beautiful city of glass, bricks and smooth roads.
French perfumes fill the air;
Cars from the showroom fill the roads;
Designer clothes decorate display glasses in malls...

In the city outskirts,
people sell donkey meat, with the pretext
it's cow meat;
get money from pastoral offerings in the day,
and selling hot coffee in the night;
sell latest movies and music during weekends,
and deejay in clubs during weekends;
borrow old text books from friends,
and start their own libraries;
roast maize by the roadside;
go to the riverbanks and fetch river water,
fill it in containers, and sell it to estates
without water.....

By the end of the day,
everyone wants to earn a daily bread;
wants to smell of French perfumes;
wants cars straight from showrooms;
wants to wear designer clothes....

Premium Member Minuanaetta - On the Scrapheap of Life

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
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Zombie Car Lot

Last year we went shopping on Halloween
To find a new car for my lovely queen

Sadly when we arrived onto the lot
A ghastly salesman appeared on the spot

He thrust his hand in too close to my face
I shouted out, “Run before he gives chase.”

In the showroom we felt safe and secure
Until I was grabbed by the manager

Her face was pale and her eyes were all red
My wife thought she was of the walking dead

Her nails dug in my skin with a chilling grip
Yet, as she mumbled we gave her the slip

We ran over to a nice shiny car
But were waylaid by a man with a scar

He groaned and gave us a sales zombie stare
So I quickly uttered the good Lord’s Prayer

I pushed my wife in the car; then it locked
Plus I read the window and got sticker shock

I banged on the glass, “Hey honey let me in.
There are more salesmen approaching the din.”

She was helpless in there without a key
I had to act fast; it was up to me.

I yelled, “We’ll take it,” to one of the curs
Then was hauled in to the loan officer

They wrenched every fact from my weary life
I had to placate to rescue my wife

I then heard a hushed scream out on the floor
They must have gotten to her through the door

I signed the papers, though at a high price
Then dashed between two guys as cold as ice.

I shoved salesmen aside and joined my hon
But slammed the door on a big warty thumb 

The sales zombie shrieked and quickly pursued
Though with his hand wedged, he was tough to elude

We then sent that sales zombie right on his a$$
Just before our car smashed through the plate glass

When my wife asked how much was on the loan
I went into shock and drove lifelessly home.

For Halloween Poem contest     David Fisher on 10/30
Form: Couplet

Dummy Behind the Will


This fleeting love was so
Mustang GTO
One zero zero mpg galloping flow
Past percentages said: don’t make the wrong turn
Cool convertible joyride took a cardiac slow burn,
lip swerve around the infidelity curve
Rubber denials hit the road,
asphalt inquiries touched a raw nerve
Infatuated wheels spinning out of control ... 
me thought the fantasy was real,
but the ecstasy was showroom fool’s gold
It’s a hairy situation,
my Afro instincts can feel a crash coming
Moving like an Energizer bunny,
I’m starting to feel 
like a test car strapped-in dummy
Mustang love custom GTO
Binary triple digits zooming nitro — 
Deceleration shift was a clutch much too slow,
had the top down
when my left will took an aorta puncture blow
I can hear the crash coming:
Icy surface eye contact
initiate the pain buffer airbag
Crushed lung gasp,
muffled passenger fear
How long did the unconsciousness last,
what happened to the frightened deer?
Pleasure vulnerable pulmonary lapse,
ventriloquist sound gave me backseat fear
Accidental pain motor reflex synapse ...
my unbuckled conscience got thrown clear
News flash: Another fresh love roadkill
Couldn’t avoid the crash,
even with no strings attached
Hopeful breathing went diaphragm still
for the wouldn’t dummy behind the will

I Speak In Tongues!! (Yes, True!)

When I worked, selling furniture, much expensive, as a Store Manager/Salesman-
(really, the "Manager" title was euphemistic)...
It was easy to get bored....
You can sit in the showroom
for some hours,
And see no one at all...
So when some poor person
did come in...
I tended to want to 
compensate....
Not for the customer,
But, for me....

I had over time
developed a talent....
To speak in accents a'plenty
No one would know
just what to expect....
To one, I might be 
cockney English
to another a stiff
old German
or a Swede,
Indian,
Jackie Mason style Jewish,
Oh Indian was a favorite
of many... but I did more...
An upper-class
English Lord...
a Brooklynese bable,
a southern drawl...
oh... so many more...

Now sometimes
I'd change from one
to another
in the same conversation'
as it progressed;
whether he bought or not
to me secondary
I had to have my fun!!

Sometimes a customer
would come back
on a later day...
looking for that
Australian guy...
who had helped
them some days before...

I made many many people
laugh, many many a time
I had many other crazy
things I did
You come into
my store,
you won't be bored
nor pressured...
one thing you can be assured.
© Tom Bell  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Hindsight Is a Wonderful Thing

when I married Mike
I thought that our marriage would last forever
but in retrospect
I should have listened
to my dear old pa
as he walked me down the aisle…
pa said I could put the brakes on the wedding
but I was young and in love

Mike simply
adored my sleek curves
and shapely body
he'd get my motor running
but soon the polish
wore off our relationship
and he began working late
at the car showroom
later, much later
I discovered his ‘work’ was taking place on the back seat of a Buick

I wish that pa had warned me
that one day
my used car salesman husband
would 'trade me in' for a much younger model!


FICTIONAL POEM

Suzette Prime Poetry Contest

Sponsored by Emile Pinet

01/29/21

Your Worst Nightmare

any superstitious peasants 
out there tonight
TV junkies gossipy groupies
smooth talking saxophonists
am I talking too fast
for couple's therapy
uh oh here comes
another scar on my head
the optimist would say
the scar of opportunity
fortunately digression is an art
that never plays for keeps
you don't want to become
the unwitting tool 
of smarter people do you
you do
it's your worst nightmare
instead let's play museum
you have eye
you have other eye
you will however need an augury
let's step onto the showroom floor
where we have our latest models
Bill the mechanic seer
could tell your fate 
from a pile of tossed grease rags
he was right almost every time
he even told 3 circus anteaters
they would run for President
and they did
Edwina the cleaning lady sibyl
could swing a vacuum bag 
round her head and tell from the 
dust cloud if you were gonna die
from gall bladder or aphrodisiac
Zaza the 1 trick pony
could hoof the innards of a road kill
and you'd find love
an astronomer named Ziggy
told our planet that a big rock
was coming from the sky like a freight train
that's why I'm appearing before you
in this ethereal minimum medium
you'll have to forgive me
if I show a lack of enthusiasm
for this dangerous matter
I may have fallen captive to the tow 
of the clandestine echelons
working their hands like bug legs
in a sign language
that horrifies the deaf
I've scanned this
for alien message implants
you won't need a map of area 51
just a chicken wire cage 
which is always as refreshing as 
another lash of the cane
take permission out behind the toadstools
and put a bullet up its shirt
they just hand me the script
and I broadcast what I'm told
radio free Carthage



From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.site11.com/

Ford Anglia

Ford Anglia

Ford Anglia, Ford Anglia,
You were always my favourite Car.
Distinctive shape and two-toned colour,
In the showroom, you were the Star.

Cortina, my Cortina,
Your sleek lines made a statement.
People would often turn their heads,
In wonder and amazement.

Zodiac, mighty Zodiac,
A real Man’s motor was this big boy.
Leather seats and chrome hub caps,
The Daddy with his pride and joy.

Escort, oh classic Escort,
You certainly broke the mould.
A family car that thrilled a generation,
So popular, millions were sold.

The old Fords had some character,
Unlike Fiesta, Mondeo or Focus.
Though the exhaust fumes weren’t too green,
Carbon Monoxide used to choke us.
© Kevin Shaw  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Used Car Salespeople

You will see this phenomenon from day to day.
Salesmen are selling in a pertinacious way.
When you come in, they jump out of their seat.
As a customer, it is you they want to greet.
They try like hell to put you behind the wheel.
Each vehicle in the showroom is priced as a “steal”.
Do you feel high pressure?  There is no doubt.
If you first walked in, they want you to drive out.

They are under much pressure themselves by their bosses.
If no sales, then there will be job losses.
They have to move all the metal off the lot,
and sell for the most money everything they’ve got.
Form: Rhyme

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