Best Taxi Poems
There once was a driver from Uber
Who really only owned a scooter
So when it rained
His passengers complained
So now he has no more commuters
Couldn't let a St Paddy's day go by without a wee limerick!!
Confronts reflection,
psychotic image triggers
his apocalypse!
For the Senryu a movie scene contest
A Drunk Talking To A Taxi Dispatcher
Come and get me on the corner
Of walk and
Don't
I wait
For the yellow cab
It arrives in the rain
Splashing my hopes
The girl inside sneers
Never the less
I offer her half my hot dog
I may be poor
Even drunk
I have manners
At the bottom of my life
She has none
At the top of hers
I wait
For the yellow cab
It arrives in the rain
My john hit me in the face
The girl inside me cries
Never the less
I somehow recollect
I may be a hooker
Even drunk
I have a memory
At the bottom of my life
God forgive me old man
You offered me all you had
Where’s your Baba taxi girl,
does she move with mama’s twirl
who’s the Dadda, languid thighs
making money, old men’s sighs,
Waiting for your phone to say,
here’s a rich man on the way,
take his money, (always pays)
he’ll be happy few more days;
But listen not to false reward
his silver notes a burning sword,
tease his body fill your purse,
back to Baba, could be worse.
Its easier than
You thought.
Tacos in hand and
All. But I won't
Eat your flavor
as you are so
Ridiculous.
I took a taxi
And it was
Wondrous,
Traveling
and Undying
Like a zombie
without restraint.
I come undone.
A blustery day
Seeds bursting, time to travel
Wind is their taxi
Flying around the corner on two wheels!
Look at him go!
His name is Fazik and he drove me from the airport to the hotel.
Riding in the car with him was like watching a magic show.
You should have been along for the ride!
Whizzing around the most dangerous streets in the city.
Streets even too narrow for a donkey!
I don’t remember praying as hard as I did on that 45 minute commute to the hotel.
Fazik, the taxi cab driver from hell.
Gwendolen Rix
4-26-15
a face in the night
who's gaze flickers
to and fro
the road ahead
and behind
then to the boy and girl
drunk or high
but most certain
they are intoxicated and
so he takes a right
into a darker province
of the night.
heart of darkness, protector of humanity – has stopped beating.
lining the streets
missing only cards
and orange jumpsuits
the taxi driver sees,
a man and his dog
tied to a leash
for a moment he thought
that it was a boy he saw
on two legs
trying to keep up
or get away
from the imposter.
he leans over
and in the compartment
he finds;
his knife
his pistol with
whip and
drags them out of the
backseat
where even
the ants don't scurry
to where bits of meat
are discarded on the ground
by then to late.
And the boy start's to
laugh
so does the girl
and they all are now
laughing and singing
and dancing and running
and crying and hopping
jumping
arms swaying
and this chorus
keys of crys
are ended by two long notes
one d sharp
the other d flat.
There once was a newborn named Maxi,
Who forewent a stork for a taxi,
But as he could not yet walk,
And bubble-babbling was his talk,
Driver gave him to a new mama in the Back Seat.
Taxi violances
Many taxi owners
Are always murdered
For different reasons
In their taxi industry,
Crime prevention securities
At many ranks and
Houses of taxi owners
With big guns mostly.
Trapping each others
Due to secret coflicts
In some families and
Businesses.
Hate,
Jealous,
Envy
Sounding loudly,
And very
Heavy to carry.
Turning hunters ,
Hunting each others
Publicly.
Very
hard
life,
Yoh!
Yeah!
Yebo! Yes
To live
With much fear daily.
Being riches
But sleepless nights
Thinking of being killed
At any time,
Like some people
With no rights.
Hard
For the government officials
To monitor those crimes,
In many taxi ranks
Of different cities
And
Rural erears.
Hope
Love
And
Peace
Will find
Place
In hearts
Of Crimes
Masterminds
And
stop taxis
Violances.
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
I walked to the gate where the taxi was waiting
Checked in my pocket for change for the fare
Opened the door, saw the driver was laughing
Asked for the reason, would he like to share
He stared ahead, set the meter a' running
Took the first left thinking it would be right
Said not a word about my destination
Pressed on the gas and drove into the night
Traffic light art in the broadest of colors
Yellow and green, an occasional red
Speed limits tossed like a bag to the roadside
Wondering if it was something I said
Then down an alley so dark and deserted
Parking lot stripes in an orderly way
Nothing for miles or maybe forever
This is enough and I just had to say
"Where are we going, I've not that much money?"
Then with a twitch and the wink of an eye
I saw the driver reflect in the mirror
He was a her, I could not help but sigh
For there you were with a cap colored yellow
I saw your smile, my heart skipped a beat
That's when you stopped and the engine was halted
Came to my door and into the back seat
"Are you surprised", we're the words that you asked me
More than you know was my answer to you
We stayed a while and love was in blossom
Two in a taxi, what else could we do
Yes this is silly, my romantic poem
Life has been tough as I go on my own
Merely some words in a tough situation
Here on this night reading soup all alone
As we hurry Into the Taxi park
The taxi earlier than us is under attack
As I perceive sound and voices
None is busy around and noises
The life that you will drive
Establishes the always providence you will derive
Worthless is life and annulled
Seems all annoyed
Associates in advance your travel
Teach you not only to marvel
But to scrutinize the symptom
And attest you've been to the classroom
MILK TAXIS.
These the self acclaimed land
Called milk gold.
I have been standing
By the signpost,
Putting on my best coat.
Some white stones fall
And cause me cold.
No milk taxi wants
to pack my load,
one says I am made
of coal which would
stain his cloths.
I pick a leaf to
Clean my skin,
I see no coal.
We have the same nose,
There’s is long like hose.
Under the sun there’s
No fixed home,
I will never reject
Your toast.
We all are made of
The same bones.
AKEWUSOLA HABIB.
(This is a fictional poem)
Last week I gave a ride to a member of the Crips..
He shot me in the wiener when I asked for a tip.
I'll never give a gang member a ride again.
I'm really sick of getting these bullets within..
Yesterday I thought I'd be safe when I gave a ride to a nun.
But when I asked for a tip, the damn lady pulled out a gun.
She shot me in the crotch and blew off one of my balls.
The pain is so great that to reach my taxi, I have to crawl.
The people have no morals and they show no pity.
Please don't ever be a taxi driver in this damn City.