Racing Car Poems

We are not all meant, for the driving of fast cars,
And some will only ever be backseat drivers at best,
So why do they expect us...

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I am in motion toward light beneath a door,
Guilt drips from the walls, I am connected, I see you
Sitting there, your pathetic self, as his...

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Lock up your daughter,
My wheels gonna slaughter,
Heading along the road,
Race ya, drive this load,
Beat you all, speed patrol,
Trailblazer, this my role,
You'll never catch my page,
I'm...

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Three cocktail sausages jumped out of a tin
Off they went in a Ferrari for a spin
The weather was perfect, the ride a breeze
Everything was going...

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Twisting turning
Engine burning
Never learning
To slow it down

Fires stoking 
Tires smoking
Ever joking 
A common clown

Racing master
Always faster
Near disaster
The best in town

Loves to brag 
Will never lag
Checkered...

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It’s a muscle car, a super car, a racing car, yeah
She’s speeding down the highway, with the wind in her hair

It’s a muscle car, a...

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The sound of metal scraping on asphalt, echoed through the frosty morning air, as the trailer slid and skidded, leaving chaos and destruction there. 
The...

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Bulky ute voyeur selects sleek sporty stalion
    Driving by, supersedes her oversized sedan
    Wide wheel arches have Porche comparison
...

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Cracked often reminds me of pecan nuts.
Cracked also reminds me of earthquake scars.
Mostly cracked reminds me of Jerry Butts
Who loved driving Italian racing cars.

When he...

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I miss the open highway
I’m besotted with quick getaways.
What other sensation can compare
to pulling G’s with wind-whipped hair?

When my foots on the throttle,
I feel unstoppable.
Faster,...

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Miles racing underneath lively conversation
Whistling road noises and occasional bumps,
Time passing slowly to our expected destination
As concrete expansion joints create thumps.

Whistling road noises and occasional...

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In the evening madcap hour of rush, rush, rush,
All of glittering green nature is so still and hush,
And skies surrender deep blues, to various hues,
Flashy...

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It is the Indianapolis 500, I am in the lead of course.
My car has the power of more than a buggy and horse. 
Wait! Did...

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Little Jimmy was a eight-teen-year-old wild teenager
He had a souped-up Dodge Dart and ate day old bagels
At the dark in the park he would race...

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I like the silence
I am comfortable with me
In my mind there is nothing to fear, 
Only kingdoms to conquer. 

My mind may race in quiet...

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