Antique Car Poems | Examples
These Antique Car poems are examples of Car poems about Antique. These are the best examples of Car Antique poems written by international poets.
“A beautiful car is something to be adored and if possible, restored in later years
to its former beauty. Some of your best memories it keeps.” by poet
There is a very old decrepit car.
She was my father’s “baby” long ago.
Named Jaguar D – like a Superstar -
she cruised downtown with a polished glow.
The young kids oohed and ahhed when she went by.
Unwanted now – she sits in Grandpa’s field
like a pet (once adored) left out to die.
She’s rusted and busted; her window shield
is shattered, and I bet bees made a hive
inside her engine, for her hood is raised.
Why couldn't she have been restored to thrive
and as an antique, she could have been praised.
Out to pasture is her degradation;
to be towed and crushed: her destination.
My first car is starting to smell old
Like my grandparents house that they no longer live in
Reminds me of an antique store
With trinkets and wooden and things I’ve never seen
It smells of a jacket
In the back of the closet
That no longer fits
My first car took me anywhere
When anywhere seemed like so much
It took me to games and stores and houses and places I shouldn’t have been
But it always got me out
My subtle savior I never remembered to thank
My first car was old a decade ago
It was rusted and I never heard the end of the jokes
But it was mine.
Mine in a way a lot of things never have been
Mine like a name
Like a part of myself
Of my past
Of my shame
My first car doesn’t run
It doesn’t putter and shutter like it used to
And I can’t curse it anymore
When it doesn’t turn on
It died before I could say goodbye
When I thought we had more time
Seems like an old friend maybe
That just won’t text back
Seems like a dumb silly promise
Like maybe it will whine at me again
If I turn the key
But it doesn’t
And it won’t
sleeping in my car in the snow
subzero temperature with frozen snot and drool
so dark in the weary silver car that it feels like life is drowning
my mind is an antique thinking that it is a new day, but it is only 3.5 minutes later
the moon has icicles on it
the stars are in a temporary hibernation
the tears refuse to run down anywhere for it prefers the warmth of the tear ducts
my mind is a turtle in a rapid state of constipated confusion thinking that morning has come
however, it is a minute and a half later from the 3.5 minutes later from when i laid my head down
when the next morning comes, i will Praise God and ask Him for Good Health, Comforting Warmth, and Divine Protection
until then, i brave another frosty, frigid night nervously chattering in fear until some form of sleep comes
that is, if said sleep does decide to come
No one knew what kind of car she was because she was an antique.
She had a mind of her own, a colorful one at that, and she ran.
She lived in a small Alaskan town, so people knew about her.
That’s Claire, an old timer told me when he saw me taking her photo.
She has a name? Sure, he replied, “They all have names, don’t they?”
All cars have names?
No. All spirits have names.
You mean she is a spirit and a car?
We never think of Claire as a car, but we always think of her as a spirit.
When I left the state, she followed me to the edge and then honked goodbye.
No one believed me, because she had no driver.
But I have never forgotten Claire.
lube yourself up car
young one searches frantically
cannot find gas tank
oil tell him says my man
it is behind license plate
Spend, spend, spend, spend
Buy whatever you crave
It's old-fashioned to save
You might wait 'til your grave-
stone is finished before you've enough
for that fancy house on the hill
or the antique car with the wide grille
Why overstress? You've got all your stuff...
You might want to turn my voice down
But Dad won't always be around
to pay off those credit hounds
or foot the bill for nursing care
'til you're laid in the ground
In nineteen-eighty-five, so long ago,
a dark red B M W became
our son and wife's new car in Germany
while stationed there as Army officers.
Though many cars replaced it since that time,
the B M V remained with them
because their son eventually declared
he hoped it would become his car someday.
Fast forward to today- a dream come true;
the B M W antique lives on!
Through dedicated hours, he has restored
most everything to bring it back to new.
From motor, brakes, transmission, leather seats,
to all the chrome details outside and in,
new tires- and soon, a shiny bright paint job-
his project, done with love- the last two years.
The BMW exceeds his age-
about five years- but still its will to live
was met with our grandson's fine skills to give
new life to its jalopy heart again.
July 23, 2019
For The Contest ~ The Gem That Slipped Through The Cracks
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Car classic
roof opened
feeling the breeze
on a humid day
It is very cooling
on a sticky scorching day
enjoying the convertible
as we travel along the dirt road
to the beach where the antique show is
Went up into the attic,
Espied a load of junk.
Thought I'd have a car boot sale,
Before we did a bunk.
Piled it all into the car,
Glad I wasn't going far.
Springs were groaning with the weight,
Wondered if I would make the gate.
Table up and boot wide open too,
All our junk soon put on view.
Folk came and looked and made a bid,
Refusing nowt, I made a few quid.
My pocket filled up as my stock dwindled down,
Decided then to have a look round.
An "antique" globe under a table hid,
I snatched it up for a couple of quid.
Then a lovely framed picture caught my eye,
Look nice in my study, another good buy.
Some tools I saw that I hadn't got,
All in a big box so I bought the lot.
Now them paint brushes looked just the job.
Got the full set "new" for a couple of bob.
I'll have that guitar though I don't play,
Give me something to learn on a rainy day.
As the Boot came to a close,
I looked at all the stuff I had chose.
There was more going home,than I'd took out,
My sanity at boot sales leaves room for doubt.
But to some its junk to dump at leisure.
To other folk it is wonderful treasure.
© Dave Timperley 04/10/ 2018
Really cool engine with velocity voluptuousity
Antique like me, bronze teeth, with grill reflections
Car goes round and round doing eternal lefts
Egos and racers can't go right I guess
Call it strange when you drink and drive in circles
An old jalopy goes too slow when cops approach
Remember not to speak out loud when spinning out
Bars you visit frequently should serve booze for two
Earl is what you named your car and it gets thirsty too
Hide Beers from police when moving fast in traffic
If stopped, blame Earl for speeding
No other excuse will do
Don't look confused in headlights either
Bad things happen when you defile your old car
And turn it in to the local police for drinking
Racing in public is against the law and so is peeing
Shift to low gear before you take your car to jail
Created this Acrostic poem on 6/13/16 for “Rusted And Busted” Poetry Contest sponsored by: Casarah Nance
A summer Saturday night brings them all out grates shining
spit polished chrome, driven by bald men with pates shining.
Candy apple red antique corvettes with white wall tires
soft topped convertibles from Isadora Duncan's estate shining.
Well preserved women with beehive hair in leather bucket seats
go out for a ride with their Romeo's down the interstate shining.
Elvis dreamed of bee bop queens escorted round the scene
down, down town in La La land on the silver screen shining.
So put on your pedal pushers, grab a bottled Coke Classic
tie a scarf in your ponytail and dress like jail bait shining.
Cause it Saturday night at the antique car show and "YO!
and I wanta conjugate on that bumper's silver plate shining.
There was an old man
Who smoked a cigar.
He sped across the country
In an old wooden car.
He drove to the markets,
Known as "Number One Star".
He devoured so much fruit
That he couldn't drive far.
Got stuck in an outhouse
Had to leave the door ajar;
He couldn't trust anyone
With his old wooden car.
He noticed a grizzly bear
Standing off, not that far.
Quickly he commanded.
"Hey, Don't touch that car!"
The grizzly bear gave a growl
With his nose to the stars.
He chased the old man
And they both forgot the car.
Bob, the car must have came from an antique shop.
An Ambassador with an antique touch
was my first car and I loved it much
could be started easily
even with my locker key
gears could be changed without using clutch.
Such a car was not easy to be found
each part except the horn used to make sound
part by part had to sell it
all parts were sold except seats
I used them to make a merry-go-round!
By:kash poet
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Placement:3rd;(March 2012)
Contest:My First Car
Sponsor:Carol Brown