Driving Poems

Self-Driving Car

Self-driving car,
take me near.
Take me far.
But you better not
leave me in the parking lot.

Take me to a date,
but not with Sally - 
this time, Kate.

At The Light

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

The Freeway

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

Driving Around

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

broken driving ankle

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

freeway driving

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

Driving Miss Daisy

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.

Driving

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

I will not make a left while driving

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

Driving Wheels, Crosses On The Side Of The Road

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 —

In Your Walk-Through Faith: Who Is Driving You?

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

The Happy Wanderer

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

Driving an old car

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

Drunk Driving Isn't Beautiful

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

Driving Down Memory Lane

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

• Short Driving Poems
• Famous Driving Poems
• Best Driving Poems
• Read Driving Poems
• Long Driving Poems
• Driving Quotes