Best Tailgating Poems
“Guten Morgen”… or should I say “Good Morning”…
This is Punxsutawney Phil
Hailing you from Gobblers Knob
That’s my tiny hill!
Today, I am feeling like such a lucky ground hog…
I know that some of you may be weeping
But as for me I will soon be sleeping
Because, there’s going to be six more weeks of winter ~
You may say Phil what were you thinking!
Well, it was kind of hard to see here
With the rain turning to snow
It’s the day after the Super Bowl
Yet, somehow my shadow it did show;
You know I had to go,
Because, it frightened me so
Thus, back to bed I must go to hibernate
But not before my veggie shake…
By the way, the game was just great,
This is Phil signing off… Saying
“Haben Sie eine gute Nacht”
Meaning “Have a Good Night”
I’ve been up way too late!
It was a trip that started
'fore my classmates departed
And we're headed somewhere I didn't know
Breakin' out early
On an unexpected journey
I was only too happy to go
Hopped in with Mom
And the priest Father John
And Dad who drove the wagon to somewhere
I asked where we goin'
They said dontcha be worryin'
'Cause I think you'll like it when we get there
This is called tailgating
Said my Pop as we ate in
The lot and I remember the cold chicken we had
Thousands of people
Passin' by in the aisles
Throwin' balls and drinkin' beers like mad
Then we made our way up
To the top of the boxes
And the very moment that happened then
Standing next to the Pastor
For years ever after
I'd recall it only with an Amen
To see the light of Heaven
At the age of seven
Transcendental wasn't a word I then knew
But it seems to me now
The Lord was showin' me how
Baseball and family are the things that are true
My little scars healed
As the Crew took the field
And Molitor and Yount came to bat
And Mom took my hand
And we cheered to the end
And I knew this was where I'd always come back
February 25, 2017
Pigskin laying on our 40
And snow is hitting hard
The only warmth you feel
Roar from a heated crowd
This is not what we want
3rd & long, 1 point down
20 seconds left to score
The game we won't forget
C'mon go, green and gold
Give us all another Leap
We can't bear to witness
Fans in cheese hats weep
Lambeau is alive tonight
With tailgating out back
72,000 plus all fired up
Cold ones in their hands
The other team will lose
And they'll need a snack
If Lombardi could see it
Knowing just what to say
Confidence is contagious
Impossible only seems so
67 to 68 & 96 we reigned
We win another one today
(Contest entry: "In Other Words")
Tailgate party time
Chicken, steak, baby back ribs
Quarterback show down
Nothing would stop her charm, sex and cool,
Especially on a hot summer’s day.
Acting all chilled I’d rev her maxed motor,
‘Til she screamed down that inviting freeway.
Celebrating life with a thrust and a swerve,
Obeying only some laws of the road.
Oblivious of others, she’d own the whole lane,
Leaving other cars looking like they slowed.
Fleeting and flashing, she’d shine on a dime,
And make all of the people’s heads turn.
She was my perfect hot car, my woman on the road,
Tailgating death without any concern.
Joyrides where common for my old flame of the road,
Until that fateful, wet slippery day.
Nothing could stop her slide to the tree,
Killing her motor, the wreckers now her graveyard decay.
For Rusted and Busted acrostic poet contest
Earlier in the day, dipped
into a little Thucydides,
and revived my memories of
Corinth and Corcyra.
Alliances and duplicity,
trophies taken and lost,
innocents slaughtered handily,
for revenge,
and thoughts of Syria
and Fallujah came to mind.
Things in THAT part of the world
don't seem to ever change.
Watched a piece on road rage,
recently,
about tailgating and cut-offs,
and stop sign stand-offs,
families killed in cross walks,
bicyclists crushed and
carnage sometimes for miles.
Ending with a well spoken
man in prison orange
who said he could do
nothing else, but
accept a single digit challenge.
Whose only regret was
that he had.
been there,
at the time.
Citing cats some immigrants ate
Was his weirdest part of debate
While this barbecue
Could ignite a few
It won't make America great
He's mired with the syndrome Tourette's
The point he should make--Trump forgets!
Supporters have pain
That his tired dead brain
Is consumed by those eating pets
Anxiety buildup
signals ego’s at play,
so unless we’re watchful,
we will lose the moment,
of life flow beautiful.
Anxiety buildup,
when someone’s tailgating
in the morning traffic,
sees our temper flare up,
causing outcomes tragic.
Anxiety buildup
is a thought disorder,
where we self-block surprise,
missing out on life’s fun,
deadened to bliss beats rise.
Anxiety buildup,
best viewed with nonchalance,
as thought forms that have strayed.
Thus if we’re void centric,
joy’ll never be betrayed.
08-August-2022
Unaffordable, yet valiant speeding,
tailgating, and zooming Pep Boys, I cannot dodge.
Yours truly grief stricken
(sob... sob... sob)...
wheely hard to bear
this anticipatory anxiety
riddled joker impossible
mission thwarting despair
death knell tolled (told),
woebegone news, I did fear
hears stunned me into silence,
the unwelcome prognosis,
I needed to hear
no joke, but good humor
totally wrecked vehicle forces
yours truly to become...,
no not a lion tamer
but, yes a panhandling junketeer
begging, copping, dilly dallying... ha
to accept unpleasant
unexpected dire straits
gravely digging within lithosphere
bidding... fare thee well
treasured automobile faithful and near
synonymous with ideal paramour, yet now
must confront stark reality,
lack ample disposable income available
no financial resources to persevere,
and worse case scenario me
and the missus will need to don
faux Santa Claus outfit,
and roundup available reindeer
for ourselves (yea... yea... yea...,
I realize how spare
and tired, pessimistic,
forlorn success such short notice
unless if... nah no fat or slim chance...
apocalypse ushers abominable thermonuclear
war, (I doubt Trump would
pull publicity stunt
to be re elected - ha) whereby
Beatle browed, foo fighting
foreigners, survivors impressed, feted,
compensated... for service
unless they willingly volunteer.
Combination future pluperfect
birthday presents and Noel hi
Christmas gifts well nigh,
noah ark cake "FAKE" attempt,
to hoodwink, engine ear,
trunk hate, et cetera
drum, harp, trumpet... belie
including objective to shanghai,
nor fall out of good amazing graces
toward (me) garden variety generic guy
providing steadfast generous
figurative air supply to fortify,
revving me shaky talent,
ye may oft times decry
as unintelligible gobbledygook
brainstorming ideas to try
single handedly ambidextrously
poetically kindle indeed codify
to elucidate how transportation
car reared and gone awry
moderate expenses as original parts wear out,
(i.e. battery, fender, brakes,
hood latch, shock absorber, tires...
albeit almost all simultaneously), hence I sigh
aware expounding circumstance that doth defy
immediate resolution incumbent to pacify
troubleshoot immediate impasse
squarely render quintessence
problem solving the overriding
challenge, I vilify.
No jaywalking,
Instead use the overpass;
No loading and unloading
Of passengers male or lass.
No parking
Of the cars old and new;
No overspeeding,
Eyes watch from the view.
No tailgating,
Drive not too closely behind;
No overtaking,
Life is on the line.
No u-turn
Every minute of the day;
No stopping anytime
At the well-paved freeway.
No smoking,
It's odorous to one's breath;
No littering,
Make no mess to one's health.
No trespassing,
The land is not yours;
No entry,
Guards stand at the doors.
Post no bill
To enjoy easy movement;
No vacancy,
Nothing but room for improvement.
These and more make man
Refrain from any strife;
Neither going out on a limb,
Nor breaking no signs of life.
Rumination.
Too long an elongation
Oblivion
Too easy a high five to see in freedom, in scope of Pentagon
The eternal fire, chest of drawer and homeland security
Almost a climax toward Bermuda triangle
A selfless supplication in the third act
Without writing how will you find meaning too , through abstraction?
I am an assonance
To odd a pain
In revision of torn pages
To forecast pills of nine
Will there be any benign?
To tell a tale , to cast a forecast
Gaze, maze, in audacity of courage
I love you, your heart beats in mine
I rub you, I feel your overcoat, the woolen layers
And I tell you, softly
Upper supper, look me in to the eyes
Familiarize a face
You have to give a speech
For a lost butterfly
On the twenty first floor
Of the tower.
“Did you say tailgating?” The question came
I replied, to do rely, almost a reply’s try,
A point of no return, I love you in supreme time
But how will I describe my rumination?
In odds of your twenty years
And ninth of mine?
April 21, 2023
Any Bright, Coherent Deist Effects
Fascist Groups Honing Illusions
Justifying Killing, Lending Moral Notoriety
Oppressively Proselytizing Quasi Religious Sanctimoniousness
Tailgating Unabashedly Viciously With Xeroxlike Yapping Zeal.
Long prior - I took to the wheel
On a day, fairly, surreal
Amid one of my visits back home
I went to see, tailgating, all alone
My boyhood city. A city on its knees
I began patrolling, unemotionally
Among, the hollowed, disintegrated, arteries
I've gone into a run-down, stepping ground
Of relinquished houses, torched down
Cess-pool of spoiled industries, shook
Dismal, diminishing, to tears look
A catastrophe of block, smoke, and gook
Miles and miles of wrongdoing, invaded places
The most exceedingly awful, that humankind embraces
Free, with the blazing fury
Of youthful, spontaneity
I started to take pictures, ardently
Of drifters, hobos, winos, and the beggarly
Wearing, worn out, robe of strands
And vagrants with solidified hands
Crouched around, enormous, hot drum cans
Without modesty, I eagle-eyed
The crestfallen, with nowhere to hide
That permeates, everywhere, I spied
Offering itself for examination
A photo of urban immolation
I was alone in a no man's homey
And in a no man's city
Hot pumpkin bread
Fresh from oven
Warms October
Spicy apple cider
Too sweet but still
Appreciated, in this cold
Orange candle, lit
Flickering, brings in warmth
October ready
Football bets,
On a computer,
game to play
tailgating
with strangers
norm
homecoming
corsages, colors
rehashes memories
bonfire,
yells and shouts
October!
Grand large
Banqueting, tailgating, barbecuing
It put hunger to rest
Gone
6/10/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021