In the hush of dusk when streetlights flicker alive,
obsidian sheet metal catching dying light,
A black Chevy Impala – Detroit steel poetry in motion.
They don’t make ‘em like this anymore,
All angles and attitude, chrome catching moonlight like silver promises.
This ain’t just transportation – this is transformation.
V8 heartbeat rumbling beneath the hood,
Speaking in tongues of combustion and freedom,
A gospel of horsepower and torque.
My grandfather’s hands knew this car,
Calloused fingers tracing her curves,
“This,” he’d say, “is American muscle memory.”
When she rolls down the boulevard,
Time slows, respect follows,
Heads turn like sunflowers tracking light.
Blacktop beneath her wheels becomes a canvas,
Each mile a brushstroke of possibility,
Each journey a verse in an unfinished American ballad.
That black Chevy Impala,
Carrying dreams like passengers,
Night rider, soul provider,
Concrete waves surfer,
Four wheels and a tank of gas – that’s all freedom ever needed.????????????????
Legend of the 2JZ
The Supra roars, a mythic beast,
MK4 legend put to the test.
With 2JZ heart, a symphony
of power unleashed, wild and free.
The twin-turbo whispers, a hungry growl,
as horsepower surges, taking its toll.
It dances and glides on asphalt ribbons,
a silhouette fleeting where passion resides.
The JDM icon, a cult’s desire,
A legend forged in automotive fire.
From street to track, it reigns supreme,
A masterpiece, a racing dream.
The 2JZ whispers a song of might,
a testament to engineering’s light.
The supra lives in every gear,
a timeless legend held so dear.
Horses, hearty and hale,
Hither they hurry, hooves hitting the trail.
Hear their harmonious hum,
Heavy with history, homeward they come.
Heads held high, with haughty grace,
Hair flowing free, a flowing mane's embrace.
Harness and halter, a humbling hold,
Humble steeds, stories untold.
Hoofs beat a rhythm, a rhythmic refrain,
Horsepower and heart, a powerful strain.
Heroes of history, heroes of yore,
Horses, forever, we'll forever adore.
Morning hoofs a trail of smoke,
Horsepower for modern folk,
With eyes slightly open for pay.
Watch others dive in, do backstroke.
Snow White has put on her grey sludge dress,
turning from princess to drudge overnight,
She is a pidgin that takes its ill-fed feathers
to brighter patches of sky
seeking less frozen crumbs.
Roads have curbs of dark pack-ice,
we drive our carriages,
pink-eyed and just whiskers away
from a shivering daydream.
Horsepower pulls us through
to an evening that mimics the gray
face of the day.
Let it rain, let it splash this chill air
to dry, Spanish hills.
Ohio for now, has put its fairy tales away,
in sports bars we drink
until mugs slide between drowsy lips
as easy as slippers of glass.
Friend
I have a friend I haven’t seen for ages
We met so long ago
Companies advertised in the yellow pages
Cars were ninety horsepower
And London’s tallest
was the Post office tower.
I sent him a text, to congrats his team
He said he’d call, have a chat
We haven’t spoken yet, so I guess that’s that.
But I know when we catch up
He’ll burst my sides
We’ll feed of each other
Till we can’t breathe
I love him. My mate from the past.
See you soon!
David Cox 17/05/22
Jolly rancher bought a car with no wheels,
with no tranny, no fenders, and no seals
he has prepared horsepower
and the platform was a dour
but he just couldn't reject the cowboy deals!
Written: May 1st, 2022
3TH PLACE CONTEST WINNER
High Noon Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Checked by HMS.COM
Lines 1, 2, and 4 Have 10 Syllables each
Lines 3 and 4 Have 7 syllables each
With the feeling of horsepower under me,
brakes do not apply;
if you want to go the speed limit,
stay off the road, I won't be hindered.
Put the soft-top down,
I want to feel the evening wind
blowing unfettered through my hair
and see the moon cruising with me.
Image: Wikipedia, 1989 Cadillac Allante
Climb inside and buckle in
Anxiously twisting the key
As a mechanical symphony roars to life
Setting nine hundred horses free
The machine becomes an extension
Of my own flesh and bone
My heart beats in choppy rhythm
While eight cylinders scream in tone
Launch sequence initiated
The green bulb’s affirmative glare
Release one button as I depress another
The front tires suspend in mid air
The mechanical cavalry stampedes
While the pipes cry out their siren song
Defiantly embedding rubber into asphalt
Parallel stripes running dark and long
Every gear change seemingly effortless
Acceleration that flattens your chest
Control of the beast seems impossible
While every sense is put to the test
Heads swivel and jaws drop open
The earth quakes as I roll past
Vanishing into the darkness
Redefining the meaning of “fast”
For I have stared fear in the face
While others stood back and leered
I stomped my right foot in defiance
And clicked down to a lower gear
This - the Divine Unity
Of Man and his Machine
In water we may be baptised
But in horsepower we are redeemed
Mad I am, aren’t I?
Maybe ……!
A loser in shining words
Madness, someone told, that’s the mother of all brilliance!
But, my madness unravels the knot of ignorance!
Ignorance is an enemy, even to its owner; it’s a curse- someone said
My ignorance encourages learning others through books
But the unhealthy mind cannot understand what books are
‘Buy; be active in buying books,
No bankruptcy in buying the book’- said by some wises
I buy more books, but now I’m penniless!
Oh; don’t know what bankruptcy is
I’m hungry for perfect nourishment foods
Whatever, I’ve learned from the buying books
‘Every buyer of the book becomes bankrupt
If buy the book for showing others or decorating the bookshelf!’
‘No books, no life
Know books, know life’- someone said
About life and belief
The more I read books the more I’m in confusion
Now, I’ve learned- ‘Books are thyself, reading this intensely is the correctness of all!’
Books are the colors of others mind
The mind is the crazy horse; horsepower in the human nerve kills the knowing self
Reading and knowing others is easy but thyself is tricky
03.03.2021 Chattogram
Horsepower
David J Walker
It occurs to me that while
Horses can run
Could they actually pull a
Rocketship past the moon
Headed to the sun?
Apollo 11, for instance,
And just for fun
Is said to have had
32 million horsepower
As if each one
Was Harnessed with leather straps
And brightly polished brass bells
And as the crowd swells
off they run
At the crack of a whip
32 million horses all at once
Leap upward up-ward with a
6 Million tun
payload
Kicking up dust
All those horses needing to
Generate 7.5 million pounds
of thrust
at liftoff, that is
Off towards the sun
Hooves pounding
Harness bells ringing and
Commander Neil Armstrong
On top cracking the whip
Singing, suns of the pioneer's songs
Headed to the moon on his
32 million Horse-drawn rocket ship.
Can you hear the voices of
Those Space Cowboys stepping lightly
As their horses
Fertilize the surface of the moon?
“Ahhhh ..Houston… We Have a problem here”
“Who is gonna clean this up?”
When western winds in my ear sing
The memories of rivers bring
A horseman
Cut of rough land and bronze timber
Surefooted walk, lean and limber
Horsepower
I fumbled where he was at ease
Our hands would touch in flirty tease
Of horseplay
Through golden grass, me and my guy
Galloping free to chase the sky
On horseback
Now, in my city life, I keep
Over my bed, to grace my sleep
One horseshoe.
5/09/20
For "Compounding the Verse" contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
You are a lortus in masserati
A horsepower in Kawasaki
So sexy as Lamborghini Garllado
So smashing my machillargo
As luxurious as the Jeep Commando
As bold as those seats Picanto
I love you like my Yamah
By Parizo Van Thulare
Your lines so powerful
Deeper and deeper i'm falling
From planet earth to mars i became a believer
You are a horsepower in ferarri
Your stanzas run wild as those wheels of Bugatti
Snoaring and roaring as the angine of Maserrati
At a speed of Lambhoghini
They toast my soul toppingly
They roast my emotions topographically
Mend me more with those rhyming lines
Keep on inverting those inspiring words
Slugs and snails line the highway,
Munching, crunching, drinking fumes;
Early in the morning, late at day.
A tunnel of black ahead looms,
Feasting on diesel, ready to growl;
Into the maw a lucky one zooms.
Compacted inside the giant jowl,
Hooter poised, horsepower stalls;
Bodies meet with metallic howl.
“Fetch my skimmer, freedom calls,
Flying, leaping o’er all that appalls.”
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