Fast Car Poems | Examples
These Fast Car poems are examples of Car poems about Fast. These are the best examples of Car Fast poems written by international poets.
I won't lie to you to fake emotions I might feel
and tell you things you want to hear
In this give-and-take, no lie, that feels
lobsided and askew, sometimes like a tug of war
Breathlessly waiting, life in limbo
one toe in the water overly cautious
holding back ~
Stuck behind yield signs and stop signs
the occasional yellow lights
foot on the break ~ go but not too fast
Everyday is a lazy Sunday afternoon
we're out in our sporty lamborghini
dillydallying in life's slow lane
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
When driving the car
approaching a traffic light
it has often been seen
both day and night
what does green mean
here's the plan
for better or worse
drive as fast as you can
then red and amber
if you will
put the foot down
even faster still
and when it turns red
don't dare to dwell
or stop dead
but go like a bat out of hell
We entered the Gumball Rally
My driver was “Backstreets” Tally
With his crazy fast car
We still couldn’t get far
Bad math, no gas, in Death Valley
A sleazy greedy cheating single-minded
lying used car salesman with ambition
had higher aspiration hopes
of a top managerial position
altho' customer trust was a must
as the fast-talking low-life archetype
his focus was on moving their money
into his pocket with one fell swipe
so to move as much merchandise
as a man can possibly do
while on rota to meet his quota
he'd advertise low mileage good as new
yet of the hundred motors or more
parked polished outdoors and on show
when viewers knew not what to purchase
and wanting a coupe which would go
as prospective buyers they'd ask in dismay
the pointed all-important question
'Which car should I buy, of those on display?'
he would reply, 'Try my auto suggestion.'
Race Car
The driver is one with the machine.
Every turn on asphalt would be tires burning.
A V8 with horse power, the car flies down the road.
Turn up the music and push the pedal to the floor.
Need for speed while the tires grip every turn.
What a rush to fly by while the oil burns.
This is the life of a man in a locomotive.
With torque the gears turn crank down shift.
Racing down the speedway on a straight away.
Man and machine compete to win the race.
Just one more lap through the trees down the road.
The checkered flag is just a mile to go.
Drifting around the corner.
Why do race car drivers drink milk when it’s over?
Under the sun the engine is on fire.
Pass by all the slow pokes with power.
Just like a spark plug the lightning keeps striking.
Like a racehorse, it charges to keep on fighting.
Driving fast is like having the feeling of being free.
Just you and your car, this is the way it has to be.
When you're on a busy road, driving fast your car,
be within speed limit, cautiously look near and far.
Bikers and pedestrians maybe slow, crossing the road,
let them pass, ensure your car has stopped or slowed.
Be careful to see and stop at all stop signs, don't be hasty,
while driving nothing is more important than traffic safety.
t’s crazy how many bad minds there are in this country,
How many listen to Charles Ives' Symphony No. 1
In the traffic jams on the bridge of Iroise? I am the only one,
No, they prefer to bump the ass of your modest car.
It’s crazy how many bad minds there are in this country,
They prefer to think about their EDF bill, the numbers of the lottery
think of their Hawaiian shirts and jewelry boxes
Suck candy and make fish tails.
How many listen to the first symphony of Charles Ives,
in their car as big as a hippopotamus,
They never ask why their lives pass so fast. It’s crazy,
Forget them, listen to your symphony of Charles Ives.
They will never understand that the earth turns around them wonderfully.
Hey, driver, I just want you to know
That somebody loves you here below
But if you keep driving the way you do
Too fast to heaven you will get through
And that someone you thought loved you true
Will not wait long to marry someone new.
Among 2nd Place
Traffic Safety Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Miranda Hawley
She’s fast, faster than you can handle,
sculpted curves, flawless skin,
deceptive power beneath,
and that look…sexy, predatory,
frightening, but I still want it.
I want to be inside her,
feel her wrapped around me, unleashed,
she’s fast,
and I know it’ll cost me in the end…
But I’ve never seen a cooler car.
I put it in drive.
Everything is fluttering.
Driving is easy.
If you have GPS.
You don’t have to remember.
Through farmland.
My car drives, slowly.
Like a caterpillar.
But caterpillars change, eventually.
My car is a little crazy.
Driving though farmland.
Barely any road left.
But still fluttering.
Driving is easy.
I miss fast food.
Driving away from convenience.
Is a little too easy these days.
I’m waiting for my mom to move.
She puts the car into drive.
My car had airbags.
The ones she grew up with didn’t.
Huh.
My mom is driving,
I wonder why she’s taking this weird route.
I never ask.
I’m waiting for the car to stop.
My mom could stop it at anytime.
At stoplights, she has to.
At fast food places, she doesn’t have to.
I don’t know why my mom won’t just let me…
I don’t know why my mom won’t…
The car is in drive.
The speed limit is 45,
But it’s always too slow, or sometimes it’s too fast.
I never ask why.
My mom is driving.
I’m an adult, but she drives anyway.
It was nice of her to drive.
So I can get some sleep in the car.
But first, I’ll write a poem.
The faces I most long to see, are no where
Everywhere
no longer exist here
Streaks of fractured light
Drops of water on camera lenses
Objects may appear closer than they are
Pray for the moments I could sit still in the sea of red lights
My hope gets caught in spiritual traffic
You can't read the signs if it's something you don't want to see
Lost and found in a Parking Lot
Save a seat for me
I've been looking at the pictures I took from the car on the interstate
Why did life have to move so fast
On the highway, traffic moves
Or not, at varied paces,
Crawling ‘til the road improves
Or fast, as if in races.
If cars and giant trucks may ride,
Then nerves might well be quaking,
For crazy drivers zip beside
With barely any braking.
Construction, oft a road trip bane,
Crops up when things are flowing,
With big equipment in the lane
Where cars must now be slowing.
If you’re lucky, GPS
Can redirect your driving,
Or, if not, you’ll feel the stress
For hours past arriving.
No one can take my baby
‘cause she was meant for me.
My baby and I go cruisin’
and that’s when I feel free.
My baby takes me anywhere
that I could want to be.
Playing tunes, I take her
down curves that lead to the sea.
My baby looks cool, top down.
She’s smooth and she is fast.
The wind caresses us
as the shoreline we go past.
My baby’s built for comfort.
I stop and then recline,
gazing into the night
and feeling ever so fine.
My baby doesn’t mind
a single thing I do.
She’s just as sweet today
as when she was brand new.
My baby doesn’t get jealous
when I leave her until dawn.
She knows when the morning comes
again I’ll be turning her on.
I spend the night with my honey.
We both get up for the day.
I turn my baby on; she purrs
and she carries me away.
My baby’s a convertible -
a Mustang perfect for me.
My honey can jump in his jeep.
With my baby a while I’ll be!
.
The 1970 Four-Four Two Oldsmobile was a spectacular beauty
I still like her today; she was owned by Mr. McPueuty.
He shined her up so often, her sheen was something to see.
He gave me a ride once in nineteen seventy-three.
She did not go as fast as I had hoped, but I felt like a queen.
Sitting in this brilliant red Olds, a marvelous speed machine.
I wish I had one today; I would shine her front and her back.
The 1970 Four-Four Two was a gorgeous car said my cousin Mack.