Wash Car Poems | Examples
These Wash Car poems are examples of Car poems about Wash. These are the best examples of Car Wash poems written by international poets.
Why Is it I take you anywhere you want to go, but you refuse to wash me
You leave me out in the cold all night and you expect me to be happy
I keep you warm and take you anywhere you want to go
The only thanks I get is a trailer I have to tow
You involved me in an accident and I am forced to take the blame
In the shop I go, they fix me, but I will never be the same
While I recuperate they just go out and find a new ride
They seem unaware of my feelings and my sense of pride
Finally, they decide it was time to find a new place for me to reside
I could never make them show me any love no matter how much I may have tried
It's funny how they finally washed me, and now I have a new home
I am proud to say I now live in a two-car garage so I will never be alone
Noel set me off.
Memories, permutations,
Eating paper.
My mother in her apron.
Dad with the black bin bag
Ready to bin the now useless wrapping
and
I thought.
As I heard my children screaming, snickering and howling downstairs.
What would set them off?
Set them off in their driverless car
Minor technological switches
Urine to wash the British navy's kecks
Half an hour rinse
After I've joined the dead
Thirty years from now.
car wash
foolproof
rain dance
[Got stuck in traffic today. The car in front of me was…
I kid you not… everyone’s favourite flying car!]
*
Fifty years ago they said the oil would be depleted
Long before our third millennium was ever greeted
They told us wearing platform shoes would make our legs go bandy
I think, perhaps, they meant if you drink fifteen pints of shandy
Tenerife would fall into the sea and by the way
This would send a tidal wave to wash us all away
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was in front of me today
Of course it was a copy (which I shouldn’t need to say)
But when we hit a traffic jam, old Chitty didn’t fly
And so I must conclude that my whole life has been a lie!
The heavens open up and
the earth drinks desperately
Waterfalls of cleansing rain wash
this world of ours anew
Drinking tea,
I put a line through “wash car” on my to-do list
There is a place in our town
where magic still occurs.
You put your junk in,
you wait a while…
It’s fun to watch:
you can’t really see well,
Ii’s all fuzzy and soapy at the window,
but you can hear the noise,
and you know it’s there.
At the end,
everything gets wiped off,
dried, and
Voila!
a brand spankin’ new
car comes out
clean and shiny!
If you pay a little extra,
they get out the big vacuums
and suck everything out.
But be careful with that:
I know a lady who lost
a heart locket that way…
The Wonder Mobile broke today
Of course it would happen
Why wouldn’t it
4 cylinders running on 3
Getting out to push probably much faster
Poor little Corolla
It had a hard life.
Neglected some love’n
It pees all over, grumbles when it starts
Brakes kind of funny, but the horn is loud
Might not stop on a dime
But you will hear me coming
Washed twice in 11 years
Driven around the block to go next door
Years of waking up in wonder
Will my car start today?
Am I catching the bus today?
It all caught up to me today
Maybe I will drive to the Ferrari lot
Trade it in, what can I get
Maybe I will humble myself
Fix the Wonder Mobile
Give it some love’n
And wash it a third time
=======
True story, my car really did break today.
=======
That same yellow light blinks, day after day.
A caution, a check up, or turn to be?
Days it stays, but many times fades away.
Morning dew stained view, unable to see.
Makeup streaks down my rear view, side view.
Roll down my windows, wash the faint black trail.
Never does my sight come back, breathing new.
The sun arises, free me, pay my bail.
A voice became loud, my vision returns.
A knob turning, and turning, turning.
Not knowing, forgetting, the stains, the burns.
Candle skies fancy my souls burning.
That caution, that check up, that turn to be.
That same yellow light blinks, day after day.
Oh my gosh!
Utter bosh...
Waves swash,
Watery slosh,
Simply awash,
Auto wash...
Oughta quash?
Lost me galosh!
That's not posh.
Put the kibosh-
Don't josh!
Fragile are crisp clean lines that edge an invisible thread
Carelessly crushed beneath the unknown forceful dead
Efforts of gripping the reality through truthful grief pained wash
Casual condolences lessened love communicated instant message loss
Reversal to rewind wheels spinning overtime must stop
Cursed hearted minds bottomless drift into a despaired rot
Treads that slip tears away from the wearing of a long road
Finding courage to carry on strength caring for our body our home
Gathered senses speaking sparingly to form any reason after death
Momentous is the rationality that wildly spreads a laid to rest
'Any Couplet written in October-November' Contest Sponsored by Laura Loo
Lathered wet I stand in the gutter,
And quietly move in line,
To the rub that’s a dreamy decadence,
The rub that’s deeply divine.
Then those monster legs begin,
The twirling, twisting blue and green,
Rumbling, massaging, wiping off,
Transforming dirt to sheen.
I walk on water as I’m hit with air,
The pressure and the heat,
Before all arms are up, and
I’m pushed out to the street,
And I drive for everyone to gaze,
At my beautiful view,
After sitting in the weekly car wash,
Making me shiny and new.
They are perched everywhere just waiting.
If you feed them, they will start defecating.
Some people consider them rats with wings.
Pigeons can do some of the nastiest things.
I went to the car wash to get my car clean.
What a flock did was nothing short of mean.
So today, I wasted a little of my money.
I want to do with my shotgun something that's not funny.
Inspired by another member's poem.
THE CAR OF YOUR DREAMS
Would you, could you, have a car
And love it so very much from afar
Give it a name of its very own
Will it be green, yellow or brown
We must learn about its upkeep
And do the maintenance very cheap
Wash it, polish it, and change the oil
Oh how we must really toil
Do we need a car that’s big or small
Is it for people short or tall
Are the seats to be cloth or leather
Could we drive it in any weather
Whatever we have we must take care
To watch out for the wear and tear
And keep it in very good repair
So we never have to despair
Then we can go where we like
Even take the children’s trike
Could you love that beautiful car
That you would worship from afar
Now you have chosen the one for you
A Mazda’s the one, all glowing and new
To care for and enjoy foe years
And no more cares, woe’s or tears
Oh he was deep black and so shiny in the sun,
I fell in love the moment I first saw him;
There was a need to have him- this was no whim,
I could see us together, it was a love staggering.
Oh he wasn't a man but a car, a Pontiac Firebird,
So I bought him and I thought it was forever;
I washed him by hand- in a car wash never,
While driving we got the looks, oh so flattering.
Well he was older, so there was some clattering,
But he was an original if you know what I mean;
Wherever we went he made quite the scene,
As he got older I did notice the odd little tremor;
The day I lost him to car heaven I was shattered,
After the crash he was quite broken and tattered.
____________________
December 3, 2015
Canzone
For the contest, For Women Only
(Would you, Could you) Write About Cars
Sponsor, A Poet Destroyer
Sixth Place
I can barely hear the sound of the engine of my favourite car
Through all that traffic, the cheerful laughter coming from the bar
I overhear parts of conversations on footsteps of passersby
The soles of their shoes bid my dying soul goodbye
I read an article about a successful business
On a torn newspaper six months behind my success
A hard pillow, my worldly belongings beneath my head
A ragged bag doubling as my wardrobe and as my bed
My stomach nags me to be fed like a neglected child
Bitter tears hurt the cracked skin around my eyelids
It’s been some days without a bite and strangely
Though starved, I have no appetite for food nor for life lately
I pass out and wake up to eyes staring back at me
I couldn’t sleep so I’m either dead or in a dream...
The scent of a half plate of food infront of me, “Are you hungry mister?”
I mutter something that scares them off like I’m a monster
The sun comming up warms my pale existence on the cold cement
Dewdrops on my face attempt to wash my darkened skin pigment
Full of earwax I can barely hear that engine again that revs
My pulse and I rise to my feet and shout, “I’m alive!”