Driving Poems - Poems about Driving

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 ...

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Why did they name it a freeway to begin with Honestly it doubles your chances of getting hit Drunk drivers and those with road rage throwing fits Constantly driving defensively to avoid a near miss Are the ramp meter lights really controlling the traffic It causes more confusion when an idiot drives past it It's on this road that the impatient...

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I shoved the priest into the white van. The night-vision goggles and rubber gloves had scared the crap out of him. When I let him out for a piss he was still raving: how was I ever going to get anywhere with my present attitude? I guess I just wanted to haul him around awhile. Ask him if he really believed, or if he was...

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a broken ankle ouch ouch ouch ouch on a willing worker who is no slouch her driving ankle ow ow ow ow setting her back for weeks accident where she hit a cow...

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harried freeway drive stress in the morning stress in the evening tension in my back waiting for a crash race car drivers stressing me out motorcycles sirens flashing semi trucks traffic stops terrified freeway tension car...

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Driving Miss Daisy A good deed. Driving Miss Daisy. Put yourself last. Remain humble and give. Better to give than receive. Go out of your way. No work in vain. Lead as an example. Passionate for others. A friend to lean on. A good listener. Old ways to wisdom....

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I love this road. Every little mound, and every crevasse, Flower filled, to the brim. The moths and mosquitos caught in my headlamps. Trees of aspen and oak keeping me on track. And here, the night clouds are much darker than the night sky. And jets zoom 50 metres above my head, asking, "What are you here for?" In which I respond, "I'm...

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I will drive anywhere If I don’t have to make a left Unless it’s a driveway and there are no other cars on the street If it is an intersection without an arrow I will drive twelve miles out of my way And drive a box to come in on the other side So, I can make a right...

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Crosses on the side of the road; Belief in passengers goes by — Where wrecked light within flowers grow, Crosses on the side of the road That besides the glass window hold, A memory's attest to time — Crosses on the side of the road, Belief in passengers goes by — ...

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Life is the reflection of the road; we will get to follow— And that will always be more than what meets the eye Or Seeing Eye to eye, with the eye of the very storm— It ‘ll make the natural things, to no longer be the norm And who am I, or you, to ask the same, old, question— Others—may...

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The Happy Wanderer I like to wander near and far. Just me and my little white car. There are treasures to be found everywhere. Just waiting to be discovered out there. Soon I saw a little mom and pop store. It was in a small house with a green door. I was greeted by a jolly little old man. He had a small...

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Prominent now are wrinkles on our skin, signalling decay of organic form, yet divine magnetism throbs deep within, engulfing us in currents cool and warm, conjuring magically a bliss storm. We are light of Self, not this body-mind; feel us as heart’s vibrance, loving and kind. To navigate life, we dwell in this shell but to truth of who we are, we’re not...

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Write Eight Beautiful Lines Poetry Contest Constance La France Wrongfully wheel with wanton wills which wastefully works By Author In the aftermath of his tragic fate When adding two plus two is too late I don't understand drunk drivers Why risk it all and leave survivors Now he's resting at a funeral home Lifeless because of a unwise syndrome Yet yesterday he's weaving on...

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I was drivin’ down an old, worn black-top highway, on my way to a funeral. It was mid-Missouri, and late summer made it hotter’n the dickens outside. I was thinkin’ there was only a couple of hours left of daylight as I reached over and switched the car’s air conditioner fan up another...

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Its always been the same crucible ,burn the midnight oil, welcome to the new heap dig the new shovel Life in a private nunnery waiting for euphoria for someone to offer her a miracle Like the calm before the storm Shes so grateful all awash in the World ...

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