Long Car Poems
Long Car Poems. Below are the most popular long Car by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Car poems by poem length and keyword.
Always great fun at an intersection
With only a four way stop
You start, he starts, it's him no it's me
Nose to nose, where's a cop
You glare, he glares, nothing's solved
It boils down to a battle of wits
Like kids arguing over a colourful toy
“That's mine! No, it's mine!” and you sit
Even the ear shattering sound of horns
Has no effects on this yahoo!
All hell breaks loose, 8 guys get out
And a bloody fist fight ensues!
Standing back I watch the proceedings
Grown men acting like jerks
Get back in my car, I drive around it all
It's not worth being late for work
Four way stops are becoming quite rare
In this fast paced world we live in
Four way stops are now being replaced
Coz nobody's willing to give in
**A Travel East**
We pass the Grand Mesa cruising like lightening at 95mph,
I feel like a passenger on a toy train.
A mountain 11,000 feet above the ground,
auburn colored, rock faced cliffs, complimented
by a spectacular baby blue sky.
Clouds scatter, trying unsuccessfully to cover
the rapid sunrise.
Blue,
Indian orange,
and red mix together well
with the beauty of the cliff face.
Along the base,
the Colorado river
races.
Not quite a rapid,
yet swift enough to scare rafters,
and small animals.
Miniature icebergs travel through a small channel
created in the ice of the once wide river.
A family of coyotes gather on a patch of solid ice.
The young playfully roam,
while the adults relax, lick themselves and watch.
Deer prance across the terrain,
chasing the train.
Detained,
inside a fence,
cattle graze in a group of one hundred or so.
A cottage rests along the perimeter
where children play.
Bundled from head to toe,
Snow,
thick and heavy.
Frosty is created!!
Homeward bound!!
The ride semi-pleasant,
better than the first.
The lavatory still with that distinctive
musky urine scent.
The passenger car seems bigger this time,
more spacious.
Room for my long legs,
and wide enough to accommodate my beer gut.
I hear the rantings of an old married couple
as they bicker about what time dinner should be reserved for.
Beside me,
laying awkwardly,
an old man snores.
Shallow breaths in between,
I can hear his heartbeat.
Pounding like
a heavy percussion solo,
his feet propped on his duffel bag below.
The lobby car when first entered
looked barren.
A few passengers sit with books and laptops,
others watch as the fast moving terrain passes
through the tinted double glass.
My cell phone lost battery life and I
needed the accommodation of electricity.
Occupied,
I wait for my turn.
From my peripheral I saw her,
I could sense her aura.
Smell her aroma of Vanilla Musk.
Dirty blond hair with red highlights,
short but not to short,
with a friendly disposition.
So,
I sparked a conversation,
that helped better this expedition.
Jared Pickett
3/7/08
Asavvy1
On that day of our life,
Our loudest silence shall
Turn most eyes to the ground,
Squeezing tears from their once-happy, dry faces.
We shall drive a human-wheeled car through the air
As we lay down majestically, enjoying our final trip
To the dark, silent valley of destiny,
With the crowd moving slowly while they sing hymns
And praises to the Overseer of the universe.
We shall park our car in a short, shallow valley of darkness,
As we hide our faces from the face of the world,
Taking our eternal nap in a place where no light can penetrate.
In this one-way valley of no return, we shall lay down at six feet,
Looking towards the sky, as we watch our spirits
proceed to the godly heaven.
The sound of human feet, running cars, or grazing animals
May be heard, but our screams from this depth
Will never exceed an inch away.
The crowd will return to their homes,
To their women and children,
Leaving our own to despair over the good days gone,
Hoping that the holy words are true.
Our families will console themselves by believing that,
In this valley of silence, we are dancing with the angels
And singing to the Almighty Creator.
They will faintly smile, at least knowing we will never be hungry in this valley.
But the children will cry hard, thinking that
Their parents are drinking all the rainwater that floods around.
I remember
Your anger
The way your neck muscles
Stood out
As you cursed my name
You showed up
Uninvited
with your pants
Lower than your hips
Yet
You somehow paced with self assurance
You circled
The parking garage
Chain smoking
Making the concrete ground
Your ashtray
Your heavy clothes
In summer’s heat
Made it easy
To hide
a closed fist
As I allege
The broken headlight
With your name
in the same sentence
From my heart beat
My jaw popping
My hazard lights clicking
Your rap music blasting
through my speakers
I can’t remember
what noise
Stopped first
Or why
You held me close
In your arms
Afterwards
But I drove you home
quietly reaching out to you
To hold your hand
Desperately
Wanting
your warmth
your affection
Instead of suffocating
The thoughts
Of you 2 nights before
Shivering under my sheets
Against my body
As the drugs wore off
But I stayed awake
To make sure
You fell asleep
And also admire
How much I loved
Your company
After I dropped you off
I stared at your house
While multiple friend’s advice
Playing in the background
Their advice caused
My brain
And my heart to argue
For hours that night
And I kinda miss
That part
Cause when I
think of you now
I feel the effects of my insomnia
Creeping in
From consistent phone calls
Every night
At 3am
Taunting
Like you’re constantly poking
At my wounds
With a dull knife
I keep my blinds shut
And my lights off
After work
So you think I’m not home
It gives me time
To try to
fall asleep early
So I’m not startled
As you call
From an unknown number
I get ready for work
The night before now
That way I am prepared
To sprint through
the parking garage
To my car
Every day
And once I catch my breath
And lock the doors
I close my eyes
Turn my headlights on
And hope you won’t be there
My neighbor has a new boyfriend
Most nights he arrives
in his little black sports car
to pick up his glittery prize.
His little black sports car
has a big exhaust pipe...
that wakes me up most every night.
Sometimes he parks his little black sports car
in front of my mailbox.
He's pretty buff and has a mean little face
and I'm too old to say anything.
They've been together for about 6 months.
I'm praying that their relationship crumbles.
I'm hoping she meets a skinny nerd with a smart car.
Who doesn't park in front of my mailbox.
I must admit that her long legs are the perfect fit
for a little black sports car with the midnight grin.
A car's pulled over on the road
And hidden by the door,
A child lets out an urgent stream
Within the traffic's roar.
The parent gets him back inside,
Their motions chop-chop-chop,
The passersby relieved to have
Avoided such a stop.
We've done this for our grandson
When there's been a pressing need
Although, of course, anxiety
Is surely guaranteed.
But when his dad is with us
We must detour off the road
In search of a facility
Containing a commode.
I'm sure his way is safer
Though with age, I've come to know
That, especially with children,
When you've gotta go - you go!
Some cars and a truck are moving on a mountain road.
The truck driver at the rear is toting a large load.
Suddenly, there’s a speeding car coming from somewhere.
It misses a turn, and goes flying into the air.
It falls and crashes at the bottom of the mountain.
The driver of the car is found to be an old man.
The vehicles stop, then each driver descends to aid
the injured man who lies outside his car very staid.
When they reach him, the dying man has a confession
about a large sum of money in his possession.
Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in money
was stolen some years before in a bank robbery.
Buried near a big “W” where only he knows,
he tells them all where to find it just before he goes.
It can be found in a park in Santa Rosita.
It’s a town located in Southern California.
The location of the money is an unsolved case.
Soon, the police arrive to ask questions at the place.
All of them deny knowing what the old man had said.
They keep it a secret now that the old man is dead.
Although they agree to divide the buried money,
they all could not decide how to share it evenly.
Nothing was decided that would be equitable,
so the greedy persons dash out on a mad scramble.
Each one gets back in their vehicles to move that day
and be the first one to the treasure that’s far away.
The police now track the people wherever they go.
The law suspects they know the location of the dough.
Detective Captain Culpepper working on this case
obtains information about each one in their place.
Some strange predicaments are a result of this chase.
There are many funny situations they will face.
Based on the 1963 film "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World"
A rescue dog she would be, her halo was bright for all to see. She loved her blusher on both cheeks, the pink color she would seek. Riding in a car was a huge thrill, I made it a big deal. With our seat belts now on, we were both ready to make the car run. Night was massage time as we drift off to sleep, in the morning from the bed we would leap. Now Angel is gone to heaven to wait, the rainbow bridge I need to cross has no date.
Date 12/24/2019
Place 8th Writing Prompt - Take the Dagger Out Contest Judged: 2/19/2020 Sponsored by: Dear Heart
1. Date Written 12/24/2019
2. Your Favorite Animal Poetry Contest
3. January 8, 2020
Antiques Road Rage
A country joy ride changed in a moment
An ancient old car, (older than me), takes me on
A simple mission
To work on my English
The words didn’t come to address my anger
So I lifted my fossil like finger….at a gingerly pace….
Out the car window of my turtle-mobile
To communicate my feelings to a fool in the rear
Cutting me off, breaking the rules as he raced
And no signal!..... (What a disgrace!)
So I gave him mine
My middle finger…. (A friendly surprise)
He ranted and raged with colorful words
My car and I are obsolete antiques
No need to curse
We have our ways and know our worth
I remember Grandma’s beauty
The way she’d grace her smile at me
I remember Grandma’s duty
Holding family together
I remember the old large home
A large yard with a cyclone fence
I remember no small kitties
Couldn’t afford the extra expense
I remember no TV set
To watch Dragnet or Lassie shows
I remember a radio
Latin Music she always chose
I remember the Impala
Cool 1950’s model rove
Crazy grandma behind the wheel
Had to close your eyes when she drove
I remember her kindness
Her home was your home to visit
Stacks of warm homemade tortillas,
Tamales, warm food in the skillet
I remember gradually
With small tremors, slurred speech, stiffness,
She had uncontrollable shakes
Parkinson’s disease her illness
I remember Grandma’s beauty
I remember Grandma’s kindness
I remember Grandma’s caress
I remember Grandma’s illness