Best Toyota Poems
A UFO went to land in Dakota
But the brakes didn't work one iota.
It didn't take long
to decide what was wrong
seems the space ship was made by Toyota!
In many times in my life I always looked for exits.
Could only get so far and I get pulled over in the intersections.
I called them the Hate PD.
Some of them I use to call my allies but I was to blind to see.
They come at with their lights all blue and red.
Saying negative things that get inside my head.
Making me break and pullover.
Asking God "why me", then I look over my shoulder.
"Landon this GPS conscience speaking.
These negative thoughts silence them, start doing and stop over-thinking!"
On the road again as I see the red and blue lights are getting closer.
Put my foot on the gas as they're yelling at me to pullover.
Give up was turning into keep going
Now I see more lights as I'm doing a 65 in a 53
I'm weak turned into I can do all things through Christ that strengthens me.
Flying past those exits with no hesitation.
Because I'm not braking for anybody who wants to keep me from my destination.
No one can replace me.
And my enemies do not faze me.
Slowing down as I shed a happy tear.
Its quiet, I look at my rear view noticed the lights have disappeared.
Believe in yourself and God with all the problems your facing.
"Landon, thanks for driving. You have reached your destination."
CAR COURT
Enter, the older heavyweight steel giant,
The bailiff, a 1954 Hudson, reads unhesitant :
On the docket for this morning : guilty by implication - a Trabant,
In close custody with a Cutlass Supreme for supervision.
Next on the docket: a Pinto for likely gas-tank explosion.
Third on the docket: an English-made car (any marque) - body corrosion.
Lawyer for the prosecution, a pretentious character, a gas guzzler SUV
4x4 off-road with winch - for Saturday use on driveway only -
Hangs out with Vettes; and uses NO2 in fuel. Who?Drugs? Not me!
Downbeat guy as the defence counsel , a solid no nonsense Hummer,
A real enviro-bummer,
Klutzy ugly and personality like a mack truck in summer.
Trabant coughed its way to the stand.
Clerk of court Volkswagen, order in hand,
Read the indictment quietly, efficiently, bland.
Prosecution began with noisy opening musical-horn tunelets
The jury, all serious-minded stolid Volvos and Toyota Starlets
Were not impressed. Hummer clumsily interrupted with an objection, “Let’s
Stop, on the grounds of precedent,” but at this point Pinto reversed,
Crushed its trunk and its gas-tank exploded, and worst ,
Hit the the English car : and into flames they both burst.
Cutlass argued with the SUV, which was winched away pending sentence.
Case against the English car dismissed from lack of evidence.
Trabant was deported back to Germany: no import licence
Overseeing all these proceedings : the ever-reliable, I-won’t-budge,
The I-have-a-spotless-reputation, I-hold-no-grudge,
The mechanical virgin, the silent Rolls Royce as judge.
...........................................................................................................
The glide of the plane almost in step with my rooftop.
Visibility of blue heaven low; lookout for earthwalkers.
My bland Toyota euphoric and banded by tight forest.
The span of an angelic chorus, a serendipitous psalm.
The predilection of dawn, a tributary hawk sails on.
The silver cross shimmies and shakes reflected in mirror.
I steady it with my heartbeat, my smile, my faith.
9/25/2020
for no reason
whatsoever.
All the little ways
and threads aligned
because I paid attention
to the ups and downs,
the lefts and rights
of the here
(a hot day in April)
and the now
(laughter on the trampoline)
while I write this
on my bed
and smile quietly
to myself
with gratitude
for a life that was gifted
to me.
I see me in the mirror
of my Toyota Corola
and my reflection
comforts me.
My middle-aged eyes
and unbrushed lose hair
look free and unfettered
by trying society.
A homeless man
crosses the road
on his bike, many bags
tied to it.
That could be me.
It might be, tomorrow.
I don't read magazines
or read the news.
All of that is already old
before it is new.
I am going to watch
the trees that will be here
before my life is done,
hopefully.
This was all theirs
before it was ever mine
anyway.
The Pain of Drought
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
The road trains full of emancipated cattle roar by
Heading south to somewhere that is lush and green
For the big dry out west as tightened it’s grip
As the dry westerly winds lay the paddocks bare
--
The cows they roar and moan and stamp their feet
At the struggling calves that lay dying in the dirt and dust
The Kites on high circle the scene of death and dying
As the mothers walk away they dive bomb the carcasses
--
The cattle cluster round the dwindling water holes and shade
Their skeleton clearly visible held together by skin and bone
The heat so intense they endure .. together with the millions of flies
A scene so horrendous you just cant help the tears in your eyes
--
The lean and tall farmer looks over his dying herd of cattle
And wonders why mother nature can be so bloody cruel
I’ve nurtured these cows from birth, they are my pride and joy
And to watch this scene of my dying stock… Mate it hurts
--
To bloody late to shift this lot off, he says out loud
I must end their suffering as quickly as I can
He heads to the Toyota to fetch his gun
Walks back to the herd with a tear and a heavy heart
--
With an anguished look and tears in his eye, he fires his gun
As the last one falls he looks on with pain etched on his brow
I best bury them deeply before the night falls
And heads to the homestead to fetch the machinery
--
As he drives he mumbles to himself the bloody politicians don’t care
And the city folk, well it’s outa sight outa mind with them
They can rest easy in their homes and comfortable beds
Whilst I toss and turn with mind racing of how to survive this devastation.
--
He returns to the macabre scene of blood, bodies and gore
The Kites in their thousands lift off from the bodies of the cattle
He digs a large hole and buries them deeply as night falls
And hopes that he doesn't have to repeat the process with the stock that’s left.
--
The farmer heads home and is greeted by his wife at the door
He sobs in her arms and she says… I’m so sorry but it had to be done
We will look to the new day and hope the drought breaks
Knowing that Mother Nature will always have her way
My love cars
My first rendezvous
was Honda Civic iVtec
black automatic,
1799 cc, 4 cylinders
130 bhp, torque 172Nm,
Stole my heart
speed bound no limits,
Left me for a new owner.
Shunning loneliness,
Magnetised by
his macho shape
and pearl white colour,
Graceful eye to eye
luxurious costume,
I let his lusty belt
embrace my waist,
One button start
and we were together
Adrenaline gush
to a four by four,
Off road
over tough terrain
wondered his guts....
2800 cc, 4 cylinders
178 bhp, torque 350Nm,
Pajero Mitsubishi
my passion SUV.
Five years later
as it betrayed,
My heart cried
Grief of parting .....
Toyota Fortuner
my next fortune,
D- 4D, inter cooler
Turbocharger 2982 cc
168 bhp, Torque 343 Nm
Walked into my life
tough milky white,
Hugged me dear
wiped my tears,
My next love
its exquisite walk,
I try to escape those
Green eyed monsters
those road runners....
One Land Rover
Range Rover evoque
is now eying at me,
Waiting for
another heartbreak....
Written Dec 30th, 2015
For contest "Write about cars"
Sponsor - PD A
Awarded 10th place win
That’s what she calls herself
who boasts of the longest reigning monarchy in the world,
producing a short of one to twenty Nobel Prize winners
as only two colleagues beat her to global wealth.
Her buttocks sit on the red hot coal
of the deadly pacific ring of fire.
Her cultural and innovative influence,
already clinging on global corners with their webs.
The sushi, sashimi and the tempura;
the karate, judo, sumo and ninjutsa;
the Toyota, Sony, Nintendo, canon and Panasonic,
all testaments of her hands of influence.
She’s a home to over six thousand pieces
resting on large waters to stay as one.
Three-fourth of her landscape is forests or mountains
and so industrious to make possible the Asimo.
Her short poems have been globally popularized
with almost every of her citizens literate,
while some of her streets still remain nameless.
She must have acquired lots of black cats
to reach such a height of civilization and power;
Beauty comes with teeth not quite regular,
visiting the vending machine to satisfy ones need for a beer,
possessing the largest trade center for fish in the world
but publicly blowing the nose and tearing off a gift’s wrap
converts her cool countenance into a bad mood.
She has centers for drinking and taking alcoholic shots
so also for enjoying the fluid of lactation for adults.
Ironing a shirt with a speed of light
is her special craft and yardstick for a serious competition.
Population of pets outweigh that of children;
her appetite for Basashi and expenses for the melons
invite controversy to any form of human reasoning.
Immigration then is highly regulated
to give continuity to such traditional and economic history.
Terry, as I called him, was ten years old when I bought him
No power steering, that, I could handle
No air conditioning, now that was a shamble
I tried fixing his air, but he said no
He drank all of the freon and said let's go
With my head out the window, we drove along
One day the brakes went out, and when he finally stopped, I walked home
I reluctantly put him up for sale
because he was my first car, my toyota tercel
Driving Me Crazy
Adrienne L. Gresham
You see them all the time,
the Stepford wife
and her counterpart,
the bronzed over, buffed high sheen,
man bun walking in skinny jeans,
so tight they squeak...
HIPSTER as they pass on by.
With a flower in the beard,
the artisans musk hinting the air,
bees wax soap and a scent of irony,
the newfound Stepford-hipster syndrome,
Both are the same
but from different sides,
one glossy eyed,
over-medicated,
injected perma- grinned.
The other a living Subaru commercial,
planting city trees,
while in the not so distant future
a real life Bancksy dog will pee.
The urban sprawl,
the shame of it all,
the 1%,
the cost of the gas,
that gets her to the shore
while texting and calling in her oversized Cadillac Escalade,
that was beeped violently at it drove right past
A city zap it rental,
Toyota Prius hybrid sport,
on the Garden State Parkway
with a flowered bearded hipster
driving slowly with thick black glasses,
inside.
An Irishman from North Dakota
Of liquor had more than his quota.
His wronged wife who was mad
Said that he should be glad
He had blanket in his Toyota.
Yes! You have to think out of the box
But you don't have to lose your brain box
(which is more than a gear box or a black box)
because of your brave boss,
(even when he holds an axe).
Its loss would cost you more than an ox.
Its an evidence of sear laxity
Its dividend is with influx of max pain
which wax stronger than flax
It doesn't count whether you are a fan of
fox news, drive Toyota hillux, use fax or bathe with lux soap.
You don't need to pay tax to play a sax.
I drive around a bi-cycle
a cycle bike psycho
at night a light’s on
my-ma (ma) mountain bike
oh it’s a little delightful
my seat on my cycle
I ride all night on
my-ma (ma) mountain bike
I’ll jump the curbs in acceleration,
and pedal push to my destination,
don’t pay road tax, my declaration,
no f... that, drivers hold frustration
Oh
Oi
These trucks get way to close
thinking they own the roads
Woah
Oi
they test test test my nerve,
these flucking bus ankers
I drive around a bi-cycle
a cycle bike psycho
at night a light’s on
my-ma (ma) mountain bike
oh it’s a little delightful
my seat on my cycle
I ride all night on
my-ma (ma) mountain bike
dirty dank fumes got me spacey
light headed it sways me
others walk or run but I go this way
I like to ride my bi-cycle
I'm cycle bike psycho
all day and night on
my-ma (ma) mountain bike
It must be said, some mouth opinions
you cyclists all smell like onions
which is mean
so I thump them and nick their keys
I speed on
oi oi
and I say ha ha ha you cannot drive your car
they say
woah woah
as I fly fly fly fly over the handlebars
I crashed into an Aygo
a Toyota Aygo
the wheel's mangled on
my ma (ma) mountain bike
I wasn't looking where I go
when I hit an Aygo
so I'm in mourn for
my ma (ma) mountain bike
in a hospital room
going crazy
fresh air seems tasty
they say ha ha can't ride your bike today
I think karma's a bastard
it put me in plaster
and now they have to
ha ha (ha) help me s**t
ma (ma) mountain bike
(oh) mountain bike
(mountain bike) ohh
Hear the song copy and paste link below
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1n6wawuYE5s&index=3&list=PLrWXQQOwWgeAzG8lMiXPHNQeO_aFFxhLi
A beautiful young lady from Borona,
Bought a gleaming Toyota Corona,
She called it her boy,
Because it gave her such joy,
I wish I was a car I might've knowna.
kindney stone children out from god
passing through blood and blindfolded
angels.
Passing on the left with turn signals
flashing from different angles..
now im pretty sure there is a proverb
in the headlights of a 92 toyota corolla which
passes by impregnated robotic dragon
flies.
i am reminded of the sun dried
opaque
exo-skeletal bugs lying along the back of
the rear window.
somehow they seem more motionless and
beautifully tranquil than before.
the sun flares out and has never seemed
more naked to adore.
i must not touch the blisters that
form on my dashboard.
luckily there is a simple little proverb
in the ashtray.
"vanity of vanities and of what lies beneath?
well thats simple in this sunny freeway sheath.
changing lanes watching the paint peal
off a dented hood of damascus steel.