Long Cabbie Poems
Long Cabbie Poems. Below are the most popular long Cabbie by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cabbie poems by poem length and keyword.
The roads are jammed; the traffic crawls
And rain clouds fill the sky.
The cars are crammed and, on the walls,
Graffiti passes by.
The cabbie shrugs, “That’s how it goes”
As we head slowly home,
The morning’s hugs, you might suppose
The highlight of the poem.
Yet sunny skies and swaying palms
Don’t equal paradise,
So don’t surmise that lifestyle calms,
Though while you’re there it’s nice.
New York has faults and though it’s true
That life here can be hard,
You can’t just waltz through what you do;
It’s tough in that regard.
For where you live is in your bones –
The good parts and the not,
So you forgive what causes moans
And deal with what you’ve got.
Think you can control me? Control my words?
They are oozing and bubbling already, and not your direction.
Control me?
I laugh. I scoff. I sing. I throw my bags in a taxi. I am gone.
But wait a second I tell the cabbie. I run back in.
To get in the last word.
I throw it onto your face. It grabs your cheeks and squeezes.
My next sentence punches your gut. It hurts you. Devastates you.
Just a second! I yell out the window to the cab driver.
Just one more second! I throw a paragraph.
She jumps into your astonished open mouth and she hurts your gums.
She hurts you like you hurt me, only worse.
No. That would be impossible. I hear the cabbie honking.
Stick out my tongue and turn to go.
Words come out of your mouth now.
Stinging, mean, ugly, unkind, awful words.
I run from the house and jump into the cab.
I wish I could have stayed to see your face as you read my note.
But the cab driver might have driven off with my bags
and my notebooks are in there. All of them. I only left you one page.
With a torn off side. And little pieces that fell onto the floor.
I will miss the dog. Nothing else.
You can have my clothes.
I could not fit but one pair of panties in my suitcase anyway.
The poems are all here. This is all I will ever want.
Air Force One has crashed into Manhattan.
To get the president out, it takes a special man.
For success in this task, there is quite a bit of doubt.
Once I go in this place, I should not come out.
The whole island is a maximum security prison.
I get a full pardon if I succeed in this mission.
The police have saddled me with some heavy loads.
There are twenty-four hours before this bomb explodes
This microscopic explosive is in my carotid artery.
The Duke of New York holds the president in captivity.
He has already lost a finger to the Duke's untamed savagery.
For help, I have Brain and his girl Maggie.
Another inmate helping me is someone known as “Cabbie”.
There is something else important that I must get.
Secrets of nuclear fusion are recorded on a cassette.
I have to get this and the president to safety.
I hope the president likes to listen to “Bandstand Boogie”.
Based on the 1981 film "Escape From New York"
T Tips are adding up fast
A And you can see the meter rolling hard
X 'Xasperating to watch your hard earn money being spent
I It might be better to not see how many accidents you have almost had
C Cabbie drives wrecklessly, through two inch spaces,
A Afraid for your life, you clutch the door, and the seat ahead of you
B But you are not there yet, and you are in New York City
D Deliberate attempts to kill you have not been successful yet
R Racing heart, you dare not look away, from your final destination
I In the throes of scary, you are terrified you are going to be smashed up
V Vigorous driving, fast paced, then slamming on the brakes, wham. Whip.
E Enthusiastic smiles from the man who has your life in his hands.
R Relieved you have arrived in one piece, deciding never again.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A rare good sou-L
at Mote-L Six
who smel-Led different.
Then she tell m-E
somebo-Dy took
her P-ink wallet.
dropped her O-ff
someplace d-Owntown
I kn-Ow about.
Next I had s-Ort
self-ctr-Olled and
my O-h fresh bills.
Gave same addres-S
like the la-St cab
ride S-aid. Same spot.
Story she h-Ad
was a b-Ag like
purse A-nd not hers.
When we avrr-Ived
I'm surpr-Ised, that's
her, sm-Iling there.
Lady beh-Ind
said out s-Ide Where'd,
you f-Ind it! Well?
I had to lo-Ok,
say, I kn-Ow her,
We're fr-Om Shanghai. (Ladies say to cabbie)
The sertraline queen of New Orleans
Getting high on her brandy and coke.
Perched on a bar stool, surveying the scene,
While she lights up another smoke.
Tom Waits is playing on the radio
“In the neighbourhood”, plodding and slow.
Nicotine clouds drift across the stained bar
TV blinks in the corner, like a flickering star.
Sitting proud and upright in her red and white dress
Black shiny stilettoes, dressed to impress.
Flicks open her compact, with lips pursed and tight
She sharpens her edges, this new socialite.
Here she can be whomever she wants
Pick her own style, choose her own fonts.
Not just a mother, a daughter, a wife
Now a bohemian, pulsing with life
Redrawing her outline, sensing her form.
He tried to erase her, now she’s reborn.
Once bound with threats, with ropes made from fear.
But now she was free. He wasn’t here.
No more would she be stifled,
Excluded and erased,
Nor stand upon South Portland Bridge
Convinced she couldn’t be saved.
The barman gives her a sideways look
As he towel dries another glass.
He says “Do you want another one love ?
Or will that be your last ? ”
She sighs to see her black cab pull up
On the rain drenched, Glasgow Street.
“I’ll just have one for the road” she says
“But you better make it neat.”
Raincoat around her shoulders,
Collar pulled up to her chin,
She opens the glistening cab door
And nestles deep within.
“Where are ye headed ? Tis nae night for a walk”
Asked the cabbie, in time honoured patter,
“Just take me to anywhere else” she said,
“Keep on driving, the place doesn’t matter"
The Sertraline Queen of New Orleans
Watches tenements slip out of sight
Cheek pressed to the window of the steamed up cab
That delivers her back to the night ……………
Van Gogh refused my cigarette, ‘No thanks, I’ve got one ear’
*
The zoo wanted some antelope but they were just two deer
*
I offered the cabbie some chewing gum, he said do you think that’s fare
*
Why did Adam eat the apple when Eve had a lovely pear
*
The tyrant banned men in white shirts: people are going to dye
*
He claimed to have some caustic soda, was that some kind of Lye
*
The ageing mechanic removed the wheel, he was ready to re-tyre
*
Robin Hood was livid, the donuts were in the friar
*
A starving woman’s fave celebs are bound to be ‘has beans’
*
Men just seem to like her, is it something in her jeans
*
My search for water in the haunted woods ended in a creak
*
Folk are stealing mountains, should we take a peak
*
I’m spraying herbs with weed-o-cide: I’m only killing thyme
*
The mountaineer was chilly, he preferred a sunny clime
In the cab, upon the seat,
I spot an iPhone 5.
I hand it to the cabbie
Just as he begins to drive.
In minutes, it begins to ring.
An agitated voice
Says, “Bring the phones to my hotel,”
Not giving any choice.
“I’m leaving for the airport NOW.
My phones I really need!”
The cabbie says he’ll drive on by,
A real do-gooder deed.
Then suddenly another ring
Proceeds from in the rear.
The guy said phones, a plural,
So another must be near.
Voila! Behind my husband’s back
A second phone I find.
The cabbie takes it, drops us off,
Reunion on his mind.
I surely hope he makes it
And the phone guy makes his flight.
The cabbie earned a giant tip
If all works out all right.
It’s lucky I’m an honest sort
‘Cause I could not ignore
The fact that both those phones
Were better than my iPhone 4!
Life has a rythm, even in confusion
Listen to the beat, feel it's profusion
Boom dity boom clankity clunk
I close my eyes, I feel the funk
Street car screeching, footsteps on ground
Pop bottle dropping, glass breaking sound
Voices rise and fall, cabbie screams out loud
Anger frustration from demonstrating crowd
Honking horns, join the symphony
Leaves rustling, exhaust blowing on tree
Boom box beating, dancers getting down
To some song, called Monkey Town
Children giggle, running down the street
Flip flops slapping, beat beat beat
Lost in the sounds, swirling around
That's why New York, is my kinda town