Best Turn Signal Poems
An idiot driver cut in front of me on the freeway
Just because they did not get the big picture
I have to slam on my brakes?
Could I let it slide?
Apparently not.
I threw my hands up like “what the heck?”
She gave me the bird.
I gave her one back.
She gave me two birds.
Who was driving there?
I chased her down the freeway,
We are both honking now, acting six-years-old.
She is driving so fast it is utterly ridiculous.
I can barely keep up with her.
Luckily I am driving my husband’s Mercury.
You can go one hundred in it, and it feels like fifty.
I was horrified when we both turned off at the same ramp.
Slunk back a bit when we again headed the same direction.
Was shocked when her turn signal showed me the parking lot I wanted.
We both ended up in front of the same restaurant, and it was not open yet.
“That was FUN!” she shrieked at me.
“Did you know it was ME?” she asked.
I gave her a big hug. My best friend, Susan, had apparently gotten a new car.
“Of course!” I lied.
You want to know what annoyeth me? Let me count the ways!
I could weave a veritable tapestry of all my aggravations, mostly in
light and deep crimson hues which signify the violence in my Heart.
Easily I could write a novel that reads like a laundry list of everything that
vex me to no fathomable End.
Pretentiousness, which is the ultimate Sin of Sins, maddens me more
than mere meager words can describe or accurately articulate. An example, perhaps?
Someone who claims to be a better poet than Shakespeare! Such heinous poetic heresy and blatant blasphemy! ONE WORD: HA!
Let's see...what else? Oh, how I loath- despise! an unannounced and
unexpected visitor, a "knock, knock" that sends shivers, like shards of glass,
down my disturbed spine. Yes, I know all about Jesus. No, I don't want to come to your church but I'll smile, be polite and friendly as I decline the invitation, then send you off on your merry way to pester someone else with your nonsense and throw your "literature" in the trash. I wish I lived in an impregnable fortress surrounded by a moat and guarded by ten-thousand Pinkerton Guards. They never sleep.
Driving, what a bedeviling task! Anyone remember the old video game "Spy Hunter" where your vehicle was equipped with bombs and lasers and such? How I wish my car had a machine gun or rocket-launcher turret to get everyone out of my way! Going too slow? KABOOM! Didn't use your turn signal? Ratta-tat-tat-tat-tat-t-a-t-t...-a...-t. So long, buster!
Bad hair-do's are ALMOST as sinful and unforgivable as pretentiousness. I cannot abide a bad hair-do. It's a good thing I'm not a socio/psychopathic autocrat or I would have anyone with an offensive coif shot on sight. When I was in school and big, poofy Aqua-Net shellac soaked , giant crunchy big bangs were all the rage, I took great delight in smashing those immense, granite-like monstrous and monumental mega-pompadours. Some of those do's were hard as bricks, like they were surrounded and protected by some kind of hair force-field. I demolished many a poof in my youth!
This diatribe is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. I could on and on and on and on and on and on...but I'll trail off here...
*What Annoys You Contest Entry*
JustThatArchaicPoet
Took a cruise down a river of booze.
Pissed my pants and filled my shoes.
Now it's time to clean it up.
Take a shower and drink a cup.
The fever caused my nerves to shake.
I had to leave her, it just didn't take.
That restless feeling wouldn't rest.
So now I hope it's for the best.
The wheels are rolling slow and steady.
I turned left and then saw Betty.
Drove a ways and heard this plinking.
Turn signal stuck and still was blinking.
I took the hint and headed south.
Now I look down in the mouth.
Jumped a freighter for the coast.
Sent my regards back in the post.
Now I'm sittin' on the pier.
Wonderin' where to go from here.
Borrowed a boat without the keys.
It's dangerous doing what you please.
Gas ran out and I hit a reef.
Sprung a leak, nothing but grief.
I bailed out as it was sinking.
That's the way it goes with mindless thinking.
Stand under the proscenium arch
Listen to show tunes till doomsday comes
Dawn with the songs of ever lasting darkness
Tap dance your last dance on Broadway
Burn the last lime light down
Take midnight with you
Pay no tolls until you are told to
When leaving New York City
Buy a Hybrid Prius on the road
Equipped with liberal intentions
With a west coast radio and global warming controls
With a turn signal leaning left
Place your index finger and thumb on it
Push down until you get to somewhere rainy
Stop!
Think before you start
Follow signs to California
Wait for a fault line crack to appear
Watch it become a Democrat
Move gently and friendly towards green
Hug a tree for me
Never become an old white man
Elect some one young with hair
Avoid bald spots at all cost
And railroad Catholic crossings
Register as a Liberal
Turn on CNN
Read the New York Times
Just stop! ….. I'm getting car sick
Let me out
Time well spent is behind you
Who needs a mind when you own a Prius
I made a right turn from the left lane,
people were shouting, "You are insane,"
but what they did not know,
pressure... I had to go,
it's not like food - I cannot abstain!
Good God Man!
What are you people thinking?
If you can’t drive that can any better then that,
You better give it to me.
It’s enough to make me want to start drinking.
Stupid Bimbo.
Your bulb isn't too bright…
Maybe if you weren’t yapping on your cell phone,
You wouldn’t have driven through that red light.
Blasted Blue Hair
You gotta be at least a hundred and ten.
How can you drive when you can’t even see over the steering wheel of that brand
new Mercedes Benz
Afraid you might get somewhere?
Scared that you won't?
The sign says DO so you DON’T
Nice turn signal Buddy.
Think you need to use all four lanes at the same time?
Didn’t they teach about those 2 bright yellow stripes in the middle of the road?
It’s call the Double Yellow Divider Line
How cool is it to be you?
Show me again what your too cool car can do.
Pay no mind to the photo radar snapping a picture of you.
Got mirrors? Know how to use them?
Here come the red and blues.
Hope your paperwork is in order.
It’s goon suck to be the late breaking story on the 6:00 news.
Loreen Parke
July 10th, 2006
Like to dedicate this to my late dad who was a roofer
So dad, if your up there... you nailed it
Now that sounded a bit disrespectful don't you think
Sorry, should strike the ladder from my script
You can't drink away alcoholism while lying in the gutter
So just take small sips on your couch
That way you'll be much more relaxed and comfortable
When you puke and won't be such a grouch
Why did a blonde stare at a frozen orange juice can for an hour
It read concentrate... now that makes sense
When thing's are coming your way, you're in the wrong lane
Then things will hit you and make a dent
Women spend more time wondering what men are thinking
Then men do, just spend time thinking
Was worried my mechanic would rip me off but was relieved
Said I needed turn-signal fluid, had no inkling
In traffic they go zooming in and out
not even indicating it at all.
When they make a lane change,
I Just want to shout,
“Just use your turn signal, you jerk.
One day you’ll hit somebody or a wall!”
Talking. Talking. Talking. At first it is fun, maybe even entertaining.
You are not sure exactly sure when it turns, but it does.
Suddenly the monopolizer’s ramblings no longer seem charming.
Patience worn thin, you try a few times to interject a word.
There is no pause, no break. Constant talking. Inane talking. Nonsense talking.
You try blatant rudeness. Still no pause.
Suddenly you are annoyed, irritated, angry.
It is the same feeling you get as when you put your turn signal on and watch
Incredulously as six cars and a truck speed up, so you miss your turn off the freeway.
Rudeness personified. Self-centeredness to the inth degree. Magnificently selfish.
I walk away as she obtusely, self-absorbed, is still talking, talking, talking.
She yells after me in a way that indicates that I am the rude one.
I wave, resolving to forevermore avoid this non-listener
like the plaque that she is.
Please use your blinker
Is that too much to ask
Whether you are running right
Are you are turning left
Because in all actuality
We have no idea
What your future holds for us
Inside that bobble head
Please think of others
And we will do the same
As we sit inside our cars
Playing turn signal guessing games
Hoping that these moments
Are not taking up in vain
So make a flick of the wrist on that switch
Before it is too late
My grandkids gather around my hearth and think it's so great,
To listen to tales of my youth that to them I love to relate.
They sit with mouths agape and with attentive ear,
As I tell them how it was in good old yesteryear!
"There was no such thing as television or amazing videos,
Tho' we had picture shows and mysterious radios.
The baffling computer was far beyond my generation,
Tho' we had typewriters and ciphered on fingers for calculation!"
"Cars now start with the twist of a key and are so very swank,
But we started our old jalopies with a knuckle-busting crank!
There's even a turn signal now to relay your turn intention;
We hung an arm out the window prior to this invention!"
"We had no fancy phones with touchtone, pictures and such.
Our phone hung on a wall - you turned a crank to get in touch.
Scratchy platters spun on a Victrola, playing music to please.
Today the latest and greatest is boom boxes, DVDs and CDs!"
"We had no comfortable facilitiy nowadays called a bath;
We wended our way on moonless nights down a dark and lonely path!"
My grandkids can't believe it when I tell them all this stuff!
All they can say is, "Grandpa, you sure did have it rough!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired, (© All Rights Reserved)
she glided by in the fast lane on my left.
straddling the hind end of a hog,
looking elegant and lost.
in my mind I met her
at an art festival.
her denim outfit graced her curves,
she had a great ass,
you could tell.
we had coffee and talked,
and talked, and laughed.
she cradled my arm as we strolled
the shady, art-lined sidewalks.
I watched as her image passed
from my rear view mirror
to the peripheral field of vision
on my left.
her auburn hair tied up
in a bow beneath the red kerchief.
the suntanned
nape of her neck
the perfect back drop
for the silver earrings.
after she moved in,
we’d make love every night
the way new lovers
always do.
I know that far-away look.
you only think you’re trapped baby.
I could love you
as much as you want
to be loved.
the hog slides into the lane
in front of me. The *******
didn’t even bother
with the turn signal.
Please use your blinker
Is that too much to ask
Whether you are running right
Are you are turning left
Because in all actuality
We have no idea
What your future holds for us
Inside that bobble head
Please think of others
And we will do the same
As we sit inside our cars
Playing turn signal guessing games
Hoping that these moments
Are not taken up in vain
So make a flick of the wrist on that switch
Before it is too late
stop at the corner gettin ready to turn
started to go
turned on turn signal
a car from down the way
starts to speed up
flashing lights
almost to my destantion
but i have to stop
ok Lord please be with me
i did have a drink tonight
do u know why i pulled u over
no officer
because u didnt use ur turn signal
officer i did have my signal on
yes but u didnt turn it on soon enough
ok
$150 dollar ticket im free to go
r u serious
thank u Lord for being with me
can you summarize
proust's remembrance
of things past in less
then a minute and a half
while juggling an egg
a chainsaw and a
bowling ball
standing on one leg
whistling parts of bizet's
habanera from carmen
or if you can't do that
at least while driving
use
your
turn signal