Long Burning rubber Poems
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While Beauty Sleeps
While Beauty sleeps, there are souls upon this earth that have never known her. Many seasons have passed and her eyes are still shut. She is hiding behind pavements of tar and cement. She is drugged from the smell of burning rubber and plastic scents.
Styrofoam has compromised her health. There are souls upon this earth that have never laid eyes upon her. I am here to testify, to tell all who listens, that I am a poet-I came to tell you things that only poets can tell.
There are souls that I ennoble while looking through my eyes, they can see the deep woods, the flowing fountains, New earthlings can now envision the fragrances of a million blossoms bobbing, bobbing to the cricket's nightly song.
I am the architect rebuilding the walls of time... Desperately trying am I, to sing my song before more mortals die; To sing my loving words before more mortals die. There are souls upon this earth. it’s' sad but very true – Humans who know nothing of love and beauty.
We all must live to die or die without ever living. We stumble and sometimes fall; However, we have that something, that lost souls never saw.
We know grace and mercy, we know compassion, love, and respect; We knew mountains and valleys. We also knew blue skies without chemtrails. We knew praying mantis, we knew beetles and snails.
We knew breadfruit; and why dandelions and mushrooms grew. We know where beauty sleeps, so we live to tell the poets tale. We speak of days gone by and gently arouse her beauty as we speak.
I am not an artist of spoken word, neither am I a profit, I am but a poet shaking beauty gently, awakening her from a long, long nap...Reminiscent of when innocents reigned as king.
I do not recite for money nor do I sing for fame. I only report what my heart records, and look forward to another spring. I have danced with the humble, and shared wisdom with noble queens;
My excitement overflowing brings joy to eager ears. Loves fury has entitled me, to shield you from your fears. Myself, yes me, I whisper softly, as not to disturb hate.
God bless you on your journey; I can no longer interfere, nor save you from your fears.
You have what you need to carry on, and I know that you are able.
When love gave birth to folklores and fables...I gave birth to poetry babies.
High-spirited sports car enthusiasts, burning rubber
and speeding in the wind. Motorcycle lovers, making
high-sounding noises. Birds singing by day; crickets
by night. Fight off the mosquitoes, wasps, and
all creatures desiring the insides. In heat and
humidity, stay highly hydrated. Drink a lot,
stick with water and soft drinks but stay away
from the hard stuff. Be happy and be wedded,
but also, be wise. Catch a fast plane; be safe
and go far. Or take a slow train and enjoy
the terrain. Her name is Summer, a relative
of April and friends with June and August.
Going kayaking or will you fight the water rapids?
Stay-cations are out; vacations and family reunions
are back. For many a year, the roads always took me East.
But this year, my family is beckoning me to come North.
Faster than two ducks
slick on the street or what
Wet on the Street or what
wet tires on a motor
Mothers on a motor
the street or what
up the come up
in up nothing hoe
in all done up
hoe says she wants to be my friend
I love that hoe too.
Help with the difference
help me understand
If there was one
day I remember
more than others
is the day of mothers
and valentines
Battle lines, battles lost
Battles the Boss
Battle Eccentric
I like to interprut
I like to get into it
rubber nuts
burning rubber up the gut
the main street gets smoked up
big thrasher what are they after
the green light
At the Factor
In the Clean Night
The road is wet and Ive
I lost my sight
I cant fight the speed
Its Heavy Baby
two tons of Gravy
Suicidal and homicidal Behavious
Hit the Gas cause
the breaks will save her x2
She aint late she,
Be there Later, riding
street in squat reliefit dont knock its a beast
It just Knocks the street
a bar door is ajar, only fading voices
echo into the void, from nowhere...and afar!
Here n there, trash drifts
ghosts in flickering neon.
Broken, floating, bloated
dead down eons halls
a last of white.
Crimson taillights roar along
an empty blacktop...
Ruins of ages-lost buildings hang together
like frozen corpses looking
into desolation‘s aftermath.
This boulevard is desolate n oblique
as enigmatic engines park n die
on this macadam late at night.
Carriages lurch, coughs, wheeze
electric spark, circuits churn
something burns.
...unmoored from the known.
Something in death throes
as hollow oblong boxes
glide shakily to a halt.
A vehicle, an unknown thing,
a machine of divine madness
silhouetted against the falling ash of sky.
The smell of burning rubber
a stench of ozone, the cry of the void.
Drift along a wind-swept boulevard
as streetlights wink on
while headlights die
in empty skull sockets, lie...
A white filigreed smoke drifts
as it stalls and hums
sputters and dies.
A drifting murmur of voices drift
whispers of lives lived out swift...
Eyes reflect and dance in the darkness
over a vacant steering wheel!
Light flickers briefly under the hood
deep deathly hums fade.
Only the tick of a cooling engine
echos into the frosty air.
As shadows puddle in endless despair
something stands at the end...
...of desolations boulevard!
Thought I'd be bold but I can't get a foothold
In this game of life and death
Constant afflictions clash with my addictions
And I don't have time to take a breath
Day x of y, don't question why
I wanna restart instead of doing my part
To fix what I've broke, and I'm choking on smoke
From burning rubber on my face
All through this year I've been facing a fear
That if I tried to stop, I know I could
So many days later, again I become a traitor
Carrying my chains of wood
Another scary cycle, another bland recital
Anyone would say my methods are strange
I guess I must be crazy or maybe I'm just lazy
And I've never tried to make a change
Day x of y, I'm pretty sure I
Won't be content until the day that I die
Because I keep screwing up, keep on filling my cup
With the ashes pouring off my face
My broker sent me a letter
Saying my insurance was over due
So I looked around on the internet
To see what I could do
I came across a web site
That really caught my eye
It’s called drive like a girl
Oh’ what a big surprise
I drive my little baby
And treat her with respect
I keep her clean and tidy
And her engines always kept
I love my little Betsey
And drive her like a girl
Burning rubber always
And revving hard as hell
Oh’ well, what the heck
Now, I’ve got a bleeper
Coz’ I went to drive like a girl
And got my insurance cheaper
So the next day I called them
On my mobile phone
I got a lovely girl
Chatting all alone
I said I'd like some insurance
For my latest star
She answered very calmly
Oh’ we can’t insure that car
Oh’ I said that’s funny
It does say drive like a girl.Com
Are you trying to tell me
That, I’ve got all quite wrong
She answered very sweetly
But oh’ you’re not a girl
I said I dig, I wear a wig
Now would you like a sale
I drive my little baby
And treat her with respect
I keep her clean and tidy
And her engines always kept
I love my little Betsey
And drive her like a girl
Burning rubber always
And revving hard as hell
Oh’ well, what the heck
Now, I’ve got a bleeper
Cause I went to Drive like a girl
And got my insurance cheaper
© Copyright 13th March 2014
K.C.Leake
All Rights Reserved
Anxiety went into overdrive regarding...
"check engine light" being on
I desperately clutched
(the Peanuts stuffed animal) Woodstock
to help me absorb shock.
What invisible agent
provocateur née ghost in the machine
sinister force hell bent
to rob me of every red cent,
whereby checking account
incurred major dent
(albeit figurative) required
yearly vehicular ownership event.
Unavoidable collision course
with money woes does frankly zap
proud owner of car will soon
find her/himself on penniless track
after salesperson (usually a man)
intones memorized commercial spiel,
and won't shut her/his yap
until quota of cars sold
guaranteeing bear hug wrap
courtesy company president
gifted bonus and vacation to escape,
(albeit temporarily) rat race trap.
Yours truly crafts (courtesy poetic license)
mine trademark prevaricated write
crowing, invoking, and lamenting malfunction
advertises, enunciates,
and intones game over
(by Tracy Lauren Marrow,
otherwise known as Iced-Tea),
whose claim to fame 1. rapper round rhymes;
2. fleet (truckload) of motorized
hot wheels (burning rubber)
quite a fiery sight;
3. check engine light advertisement
especially fluorescent hubcaps
that glows (like the
pulsating nose of Rudolph) at night.
Most recent experience (mine)
dealing with problematic
"check engine light" tsuris,
taught me helpful object lesson
after bringing our 2009 Hyundai Sonata
to Norm's Save Station
(earlier today 8/24th, 2021)
551 Gravel Pike, Collegeville, PA 19426,
which mechanic on duty
informed me that within Pennsylvania
said mechanical setback NEED NOT
be troubleshot if car driven less than
5000 miles per year.
I race around this track
To make the fastest lap
In powered muscle cars
You bet, I’m driving that
Wearing a fibre glassed rig
And a white cat suit
You can call me the stig
The fastest thing on route
You’ve never seen my face
It’s covered that's a shame
I’m always in disguise
My black tinted visor hides
The thrill upon my face
My big blue sparkling eyes
Full of this excitement
The element of surprize
Its super cars and silly stuff
Fast and furious driving tuff
I’m the stig and I’m in my mig
And I’ll snap your time like a twig
I think you’ve seen my show
The stars that come and go
Competing with each other
Round the track they must flow
To set a perfect time
Beat their rivals cross the line
To test their driving skills and
Do their best behind the wheels
Burning rubber at the start
Oh' my heart pounding fast
This adrenalin rushing through
I’m the stig, I’m super cool
Wheels spinning from the line
Tyres’ smoking, it’s a crime
Drifting around these corners
Sliding like skies on waters
Its super cars and silly stuff
Adventurous fun, sometimes tough
I love a challenge, don’t call my bluff
Cuz’ I’m the stig and I do my stuff
I've made a name for myself
Topgear, Topman
In Warsaw Poland do I stand
And yes I'm very well renown
Thirty foot high from the ground
I'm dressed up all in white
With my crash helmet on
I'm just out of sight
©Copyright KC.Leake
25th November 2014
All Rights Reserved
a growing indifference
roses and thorns will not release me
I try to get along, ‘doesn’t come easy
it isn't the money or the phony power play
y' just don't want me in the most familiar way
I've seen your eyes with a new distance
that won't be denied, a growing indiff'rence
oh yes, oh my
poor me, and mine
no burning rubber, 'hardly rollin' slow
talk to your lover, go, tell him, let him know
that I've seen your eyes, stranger than fiction
that won’t be defined, a growing indiff'rence
I guess, love resigned
poor me, and mine
now, from a distance
a growing indiff'rence
change clothes and go
poor me, change clothes and mine
and go, and mine