Impala Poems

Parasomnia

This paralyzing Dream inebriates me,
intoxicated by Death’s perfume,
I don’t believe I’m here to battle my
Demons, I’m here to keep them 
safe and sacred, reach them
toward’s Heaven’s skies, raise and
teach them about Heaven’s signs
Is it sacrilegious and blasphemous
or the way God would treat his 
Creation?

Valerie prayed I rose from a lala,
prayed I grant her wishes and
replace her father, prayed on
my soul like Kikyo, prayed I
upgrade her to a Mercedes;
she’s tired of her Impala. I
preyed on her conflict, preyed
on her lack of confidence, preyed
on her weakness, then created
Wonders

I warmed her silver
winter tundra in golden
orbs, spun slender
springs and softer
summers, now her
guard’s falling with
her brazier, is there
a posture in her
posture, can I trust
the feelings that she
Fosters?

Midnight Chrome

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.????????????????

At The Ramada Inn

At The Ramada Inn 

teenage boyfriend sits butt close to brown eyes
waitress with bleeding lips serves a silent sirloin
middle aged mother says the meat is too rare
bespectacled father stares at the impaled thing
says the leaking steak isn’t dead enough to eat 
bleeding waitress takes jiggling meat to the flames 
teenage boyfriend tells brown eyes he loves her
loves the windsong perfume she keeps in her purse
loves kissing her strawberry lips in the beige impala
teenage boyfriend daydreams now of holy matrimony 
of living in a two room duplex with two perfect children 
of driving the family into town with scapulars hanging
waitress with bleeding lips serves a screaming sirloin 
teenage boyfriend sits butt close to brown eyes

Quarry

on the prowl,
           a big cat;
       hunger pangs.

        oh, the thrill 
         of the hunt!
           unaware... 

         sitting duck 
           of a prey,
           selected...

          from afar, 
       sneaking up;
 creep, creep, creep. 

          stealthily,
      leopard stalks.
             quietly 

          lies in wait; 
         pounces on 
              impala.

Orhams Old Fashioned Donut Shop

The Cinnamon Bazooka Bun is an ardent dough
a pound of sticky heat that dissolves 
the tongue in an ****** of butter.

There is an uncertain pantless fervor here
in the parked Impala, a craven pursuit of the 
spiral core, winding mounds of sacchariferous frit

A cop drives by--and we shrink in our non-chalance
our frosted, reunion-phased glaze betrays no chance
that something untoward is not happening here.

Anti-Poem - Dry Ice and Cologne

a blue chevy impala basks in a suburban driveway
like a beached whale it oozes gases and black oils 
its seeping white walls beg for rubber movements
little boy inside the house sits on a pleated couch
he watches the setting sun through a screen door
fat mother stirs pudding in a wall-papered kitchen
smoking father works a tv guide crossword puzzle
he flicks white hot dust into a crystal glass ashtray
the corner television set transmits black and white
cathode rays of a half-naked wrestler pinned down
the destroyer with mask on lifts his victorious arms

little boy hears calliope music in the green distance
the ice cream man comes with dry ice and cologne 
still three blocks away he makes another long stop
fat mother fries bloody meats in a fiery blue skillet 
she turns on boss radio to hear elvis sing the blues
little boy goes to the admiral and turns the channel
bishop sheen appears in black cursing the darkness
skipper frank implores the kids to brush after meals
tennessee tuxedo chases tiger tornado to megapolis
smoking father finishes a tv guide crossword puzzle
the ice cream man arrives with dry ice and cologne

Life Warranting Testimony

Great performance on the piano
And it gave her a Murano.
Last year, it was her soprano
And it grabbed the wealth of Ono.
Now wears Japanese Kimono,
As if there's no tomorrow
In their still quite safe Comorro
But with kimono not Chinese, 
Let alone by half Nipponese.
Soon shall she be in Kampala
To perform but meet Impala...

Life warranting testimony
And she'll make it Antimony

Picture This

61 Chevy Impala  S S 
Black sleek loaded with chrome

Parked at quick shop that morning
Not far from my home

The only extraneous decor than
that described above

A bumper sticker of Sylvester the 
Cat sending everyone his love

It really popped with his
bright red nose saw it and had to laugh

Block lettered in the blackest type
reading thusly....  Kith My Ath

She Smelled Like Old Spice

The 1965 Chevy Impala with aqua dice
parked herself downhill against all advice
From Frankie, Old Tom, Red Angus and Swanee Bryce
Her wheels slipped on gravel that felt like hardened rice

Her green interior smelled like Old Spice
Her engine was infiltrated by squeaky hungry mice
Some main wires under her hood now have a splice
Her ignition key did not work once or twice

We could not sell her at any price
But we loved the smell of nineteen sixties Old Spice
For it reminds me of my Uncle Pete, dad of cousin Bryce
So I am keeping her forever, which feels kind of nice.

Dedicated To the Two Most Beautiful Doctors In the World

hello dear doctors
i am here to say i'm sorry
i am an idiot
i admit it
i feel better than i have felt in, well, LIFE

i fell one day and hit my head hard on the original hardwoods
my new lady was not having it and practically threw me in the impala
going off on me with tears in her eyes, i wisely sat and listened while staring at unexpected stars

arrived and parked, my new lady and a nurse help me in a wheelchair
i tried to complain, but my new lady just finished a double shift and was not in a mood
she helps me with the paperwork
she glares at me at my mildest complaint
when i am called, my new lady comes with me and just snitches on me to the doctor, who so happens to be a woman too
I LOSE!

good morning, my sweet, observant, and rather persistent, new lady
my love for you has only grown more after another good night's sleep
who knew that i had two blood clots on each side of my brain
i thank God for your love for me
you, and the equally sweet (questionable), observant, and rather persistent doctor, are the reason and am alive and smilin'.....(at you, and only you, of course)

Unto You My Lord

I’ve asked you for love, but my heart
Is a playground of pains like matchsticks & veld,
I’m a broken-pieced soul.
I prayed for success, instead all I see
Is them whammies in numbers of mega bus,
All tight up blocking every hole to breathe.

I asked for this dear life but in it I see tears pinning my cheeks.
I’m inches away from crying such blood left in me,
Momma is with no degrees,
Father left in the ages of storm
And the shelter I have pours water when it rains.
My friends, the ones I grew up with, changed with lanes ‘cause
I fail to even get handwork to make a living in me.

My hair is greyish not by mistake,
The world I live in favours the sons and daughters of the rich,
Without connections I’m just moss in the middle of the Kalahari.

When I try to keep up, they are dragging me down
Like a prey impala on the canines of lion, why me?!
Why do I have to feel pain all emotionally, physically
Like I was bred with it hereditarily?
Why can’t I just get a hold of myself once?!
Guide me please!! I haven’t lost faith in you.

Jab-A-Thon

An antelope at the zoo’s gala
Stuck both horns right through a koala 
He skewered an ox
And one Arctic fox
They now call him Vlad the impala

Predator, Prey

predator
                killer, carnivore
       stalking, attacking, feeding
lion, great white shark, bait, impala
      struggling, detecting, fleeing
             hunted, vulnerable
                        prey



Date created: 05/21/2021

Wildlife 41

Wildlife 41

A talented 'vocal' impala,
Was deemed by his peers a bit "Ga-Ga"
But he said "I'm a singer!"
Then gave them the finger
And went on to perform in La Scala!!

Special Child's Animal Alphabet

Hear my special child’s alphabet features
Eagerly, he mumbles with sheer delight
a-ape; b-bear; c-cat… dear God’s creatures!

D-dove; e-eagle; f-falcon… birds of great flight
g-goat; h-horse; i-impala…all in Noah’s ark
j-jaguar; k-koala; l-lion… oh, what a sight!

m-monkey; n-newt; o-opossum; hey, they don’t bark
p-parrot, q-quail, r-robin; busy in their nests
s-snake; t-turtle; u-unicorn…hiding in the park!

v-viper; w-wallaby: do they hate pests?
x-x-ray fish; y-yellow fin tuna: swimming gaily
z-zebra and zebrafish together in animal fests…

Alphabet "perceiver" he’s become expertly
Reading, sounding, blending letters blissfully!

April 12, 2019
Edited on May 22, 2020
Honorable Mention, "BRIAN'S CHOICE Q,any form,any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/23/2020.

Honorable Mention, "YOUR CHOICE h" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/17/2025.

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