Best Tailgates Poems
Out in the driveway
Sits my old pickup truck
Whose tailgates the first place
I learned about love
Its held on with cables
That are rusted and worn
While its seen better days
Its weathered the storm
That old rusty tailgate
Helped see me through
When I lost my first love
We shared in some brews
And I have to admit
It don't matter the make
The lessons I learned
On that rusty tailgate
Outside of my door
Sits an old front porch swing
Its splintered and tattered
And blows with the breeze
But the lessons I learned there
Passed generationally
From grandpappy to my dad
And then down to me
I sat in that porch swing
And learned about life
From those who had lived it
And never lost sight
Of what's most important
It still tugs my heart strings
The lessons I learned
In that old front porch swing
School never taught me
Much about life
And the good book still teaches
Me every night
So if your looking to learn
Be sure to lean
On an old beat up tailgate
Or squeaky porch swing
Tailgates and porch swings
Hold the lessons in life
Ones where I kissed my
Now second wife
I don't know about physics
And those sorts of things
But the best lessons in life
You'll learn on tailgates and porch swings
I learned from the masters
Who unconditionally
Taught me the lessons
Of Tailgates and porch swings
I’m from toy cars and mismatched Barbie shoes.
I’m from bike races down the one road where no unpadded limb was safe.
I’m from a Sunday carpool and Tom Thumb slushies in Florala.
I’m from the twang of Conway Twitty,
the screams of Aerosmith and a hundred dances in between.
I am a child, finding joy in excitement!
I’m from dribbling chins and watermelon juice,
“Goodnight, sissy”, Band-Aids and kissing boo-boos.
I am a role model, finding strength in my fear.
I’m from bonfires, tailgates, and kissing goodbye. Barbeque at Jay’s and Christmas at the Hill.
I’m from standing on a milk crate to shoot pool and burning eyes in Walmart swimming pools.
I’m from Easy’s growl and Smokey’s purr.
I am passionate, finding love in freedom
I’m from jumping on a trampoline in torrential rain and the smell of roses
I’m from barefoot adventures, crawdad fishing, and “stay out of my pecan trees!”
I’m from 3 am Life with Ethan and 2 pm short cuts to Kayla’s
I am the hope I find in myself.
I’m from rivers, I am from oceans.
I am from pain and joy and tears of both,
I’m from love and belief in the power of unity.
I’m from toy cars and mismatched Barbie shoes.
You’re the stain that scars the silence
Evidently echoed in everyone’s eyes
The whispers articulate the evidence
That results in my elegant demise.
It is the shadow that tailgates the night
Annihilating every anchor I have in sight
The catalyst that induced instant confusion
Right from the start of your epic intrusion
The remains of your anarchy are engraved
Unrepentant steadfast they remain
So I surrender seeking shelter for my shame
Allowing only my suspicions to be displayed
I will watch as they crown and cloak you King
Audience the occasion and applaud your victory
Watch as they bow down as kiss your ring
But I solemnly swear I will not repeat history
Country and cowboys
PB&J
Old pickup trucks
And rusty tailgates
The stars and the sky
No show and Jones
But one stands above them
And it's set in stone
Nothing goes together
Like heartache and memories
Once you've loved it or lived it
It's like a disease
What's gone from our eyes
Our minds still see
That nothing goes together
Like heartache and memories
Like the first time you made love
The who and the where
The now empty seat
Of a table and chairs
The smell of the house
At grandma's on Sunday
Still take me back
To a much better place
Nothing goes together
Like heartache and memories
Once you've loved it or lived it
It's like a disease
What's gone from our eyes
Our minds still see
That nothing goes together
Like heartache and memories
You can't turn back time
Just the hands on a clock
There's no use in trying
Cause it never stops
Like living and dying
Is just A to Z
When you become the heartache
You become a memory
When you become a heartache
You become a memory
Act of abuse, frequent event
Someone tailgates our car
No need to rage needlessly vent
Or to foolishly spar
As we shrug and move on
Smile benignly and yawn
We see through ego con
Blow not our fuse
Act of abuse
20-November-2021
Quietus