Long Cars Poems
Long Cars Poems. Below are the most popular long Cars by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cars poems by poem length and keyword.
Fer the life of me I jes' can't figger kids out today!
With their automobiles they make a most tawdry display!
Seems their jalopies with geegaws and gadgets they adorn.
(My '37 Ford played "Mary Had A Little Lamb" on its horn!)
They roar up and down congested city streets,
With their boom-boxes blarin' head-throbbin' beats.
They rev their engines to display that awesome power.
(My '37 Ford's 65 horses could make nigh fifty miles per hour!)
They spin their tires when speedin' off with pedal to the floor.
Their mufflers leavin' behind an ear-splittin' roar.
From the senior crowd like me they get a scornful frown.
(My '37 Ford had straight pipes - cops invited me to leave town!)
Some kids have their cars jacked up high in the rear.
Other's have low-riders which seems mighty *****.
I've tried to figger the reasons fer that to no avail.
(My '37 Ford sported spot lights - on the aerial a foxtail!)
My Dad used to ask, "Why put all that stuff on yer car?
It don't add to the value and really looks quite bizarre!"
I suppose all we can do is let the kids have their fling.
(Lookin' back to my youth, it seems I did the very same thing!)
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Hers was a complete change of personality, moods, and friends
Her joyful happy self, turned rapidly sarcastic, mean, and secretive
Her eating habits changed; she did not need food any more.
Stopped eating with the family, painted her room black.
Threw her flute into the garbage. She had outgrown it.
Scoffed that she had ever been a cheerleader, calling them names.
Her friends stopped coming. She made new ones, they were in and out.
None stayed long. Just a few minutes.
Her family saw glimpses of her unhappiness as she ran in and out
Of her room, slamming doors, playing music, not doing her homework.
Her A’s and B’s nosedived into D’s and F’s, and she laughed about it.
Rapid distrust toward her siblings. Name-calling, which had never happened.
Stopped going to school until it was nigh onto impossible to keep up.
Sneaked out of the house at night; they never knew where she would be.
Left in cars with people she did not know. Parents blamed her friends.
It was their fault, not hers. She was their princess. She was perfect.
Secrecy became the norm. Her laughter became loud and ugly.
Her prettiness was gone; her hair was dingy. She stopped wearing deodorant.
Grandparents wondered where she was at Thanksgiving and Christmas.
They were given many lies from parents and her siblings. Everyone covering.
Not my child! They said when the possible truths were pointed out.
That does not happen in our neighborhood.
We are not that kind of parent.
Our child would never be an alcoholic or a drug addict.
The entire family circled the wagons,
refusing to join neighborhood barbeques.
The children were taught that the people at church
were do-gooders, and look-downers.
The children were taught that the neighbors
they once adored were now the enemy.
They were protecting the princess,
who seldom came home, sneaking in and out,
When they were asleep. Not in our family! They said. Not in our family!
The do-gooders and down-lookers were prominent at her funeral.
They had raised children also who had been lured into
the terrifying swallow-up world of drugs and alcohol.
They had so many stories; horrifying real life stories
they had never shared even though they had innumerable
opportunities at church functions and bar-b-ques.
Nuclear Waste
Last night
I woke up from my sleep
From a dream ,
a dream that made me weep
I stood alone
With nowhere to turn
Cause they had burnt it
All to the ground
The land was waste
Houses were down
There was no one
Left in my favourite town
I stood alone
With nowhere to turn
Cause they had burn it
All to the ground
My friends were gone,
My family dust
The cars,the trucks
Were fragmented dust
I stood alone
With nowhere to turn
Cause they had burn it
All to the ground
I then awake
Arrested my fear
When I felt the warmth
of my flowing tear
I was not alone
I had somewhere to turn
My feet were still
On the fathers ground.
down this road and a further mile,
lies success pot to make you smile,
I have been down this road before,
Son! so it’s true and not folklore!
chorus
so drive with hope and drive with heart,
go give your life car a good start,
ahead is long hard winding road,
succeed with life’s highway code!
vers 1
check mirror to see who’s around,
wipe the glass before you hit ground,
make sure the tank has fuel enough,
demands of the road could be tough!
vers 2
hear engine chug a cheerful note,
happy hearts victory promote,
use the clutch to ease into gear,
good friend like clutch is useful ware!
chorus
so drive with hope and drive with heart,
go give your life car a good start,
ahead is long hard winding road,
succeed with life’s highway code
vers 3
go slow steady before you speed,
you must pace it right to succeed,
bouncy ride can harm the bearing,
will put stress on power steering!
vers 4
watch the road and mind other cars,
some make their journeys into farce,
let eyes and wisdom navigate,
you will get there, be never late!
chorus
so drive with hope and drive with heart,
go give your life car a good start,
ahead is long hard winding road,
succeed with life’s highway code
vers 5
from time to time do use the break,
stopping in life is not mistake,
break on the tongue can stop a war,
if used well you can be a star!
vers 6
so my son please drive on and on,
our journey starts when we are born,
there are many who help on way,
on fair road-to-success, you will stay!
chorus
so drive with hope and drive with heart,
go give your life car a good start,
ahead is long hard winding road,
succeed with life’s highway code
down this road and a further mile,
lies success pot to make you smile,
I have been down this road before,
Son! so it’s true and not folklore!
1st placement
Your advice to the youth poetry contest
Edward Ibeh sponsored
written 24/12/2020
Lyrics with 8 syllables each line
with repeat chorus
Late one summer afternoon about an hour before dark,
An aging gentleman of 75 years sat alone in a city park.
whose outlet was the shores of the Pacific Ocean.
A young man less than half his age came along and sat
next to the elderly gentleman. Both remained speechless
for some three to five minutes. It was then that the
young man asked a very serious question as if he was
anticipating some great words of wisdom.
He asked, "At this juncture in your life, sir, What do
you want for?" Hesitating for a few moments, desiring
to leave the inquirer some sense of of a lasting treasure,
the 75 year old replied:
"I don't ask for much; not houses, lands, cars, and such.
I ask for more time and the ability to walk a straight line.
I ask for longevity and a pure and Godly legacy.
I ask for peace, tranquility, less poverty, and more civility."
"I already have a good life and I'm blessed with a great wife.
I already have a good measure of freedom, privacy, and liberty.
I already have clean water, good food, good shelter, and sanity.
I already have a good family, good coffee, and a Bible to read.
I tell you, there is so little else that I really need or want."
From a flicker of flames that spark up, hot and white
Inimitable heat rises up through the night
Reaching out, with it's fast, fiery fingers to take
Everything that lives, breathes or stands within it's wake.
Fire attacks, like a wicked, mad angry demon
It sears, scorching paths that destroy in due season
Firestorms can consume with a destructive passion
Like a wild, unpredictable temper tantrum.
A necessity for life, fire brings warmth and heat
An invaluable source, to cook what we eat
It can bend ore and iron, create what man wills
Whether cars, great ships or guns, for good or for ill.
A veritable force on our earthly domain
Fire's might, in it's grand glory, will ever remain.
Written on 4/18/2016
I used to think…
That what we have here….
Had a meaning behind it.
I used to believe….
That you were the one,
I gave up everything for….
You were the one,
I made my everything….
I cherished the ground you walked on,
Your face, I placed a smile upon.
Your tears, I wiped away…
I was the one, who encouraged you to pray.
But what happened?
I learned the truth about you.
I learn about who you really are….
You’re not my shooting star….
I’m not your world….
I’m just the ottoman under your feet…
I’m nothing more than a stepping stone to you….
Nothing more….
Than some window of opportunity…
You never cared about me….
You only wanted what you couldn’t get from others….
You wanted someone to change….
You wanted me to be something I’m not….
I became a soulless puppet,
Moving when you say so.
Then when you’re done with the strings,
You’d toss me on the floor,
And walk out the door.
I can’t take it anymore….
I used to think….
You were the love of my life,
My heart, my soul,
My everything and my pride…
But I came to realize,
It was nothing but lies….
I….
Was a fool….
To think that this would last….
To think that you,
Were over your past.
I used to think that you completed me,
But you showed me that you don’t….
My heart was filled with frustration,
Victimization….
Decimation….
While you conducted your brutalization.
Your definition of love,
Is way different than mine…
You think money can buy happiness…
Business life can take away stress….
Cars, clothes, and all….
Materialism will be your downfall….
You should’ve been more grateful.
I used to think you were the one….
But I see now….
I was dead wrong.
In buses, on bikes, as passengers in Ubers
Faces blur and deeds collide.
Sprint down streets, stuck behind the slow,
always in passing I see stories unfold.
Quick check behind in case of cars,
None in sight but there's a beep.
Cyclists are invisible to pedestrians with places to be.
Taxi beeps at taxi and beeped at hops out
To harass the beeper with a wagging finger.
Apology, apology, I demand apology!
Delivery driver on a monster truck e-bike;
Near miss with a clueless tourist.
It's all too much for one man to keep.
I try to write them as they happen
but seconds pass and the moment is gone.
Passing, always passing, these moments with people
that we'll never know
but for a second,
laid bare on their face is themselves
whole and complete.
Each day has a second to be remembered.
Gather them, pick them, stuff them in your pockets.
Each day has a second for us all.
I live in the land of me and us
Here we look out for number one
Self care
Holidays
New cars
Big house
Travel the world
Finest meals
Satisfying our every need
Self help books to read
It's all about me and us
Self congratulation
Poor me
How do I feel
Is my life good enough
Do I need more stuff
Was my childhood too rough
Let's talk about me and us
The rest of the world is them
They don't have it right
They need to see me and us's light
Don't we shine so bright
Beacons in the night
We keep playing the same song
Thinking the world is singing along
In the end we have it wrong
Lives of sad desperation
Lacking contemplation
Blocked with constipation
Where is the inspiration
I wish to move
Join the world of yours and others
A place where we are all brothers
The focus away from me
There is so much more to see
I'm one branch on a larger tree
In the land of me and us
I was never free
I was just me
Empty
Me me me
That's not who I wish to be
A town knows well its children, so busy midst the spin
To grant them lively comfort, with its never-ending din
A jungle of cement and steel that never stops to gasp
Pulsing with their fiery dreams so tight within its clasp
Mean streets to teach of wisdom so vital to this world
A window with realities thru which they're often hurled
This wealth of opportunities is offered them, although
Many wonders still remain, that they may never know
No peak on the horizon to bespeak the blush of morn
No peepers in the evening air, as spring is gently born
No moaning of the evergreens to whisper to the wind
No softly-silent snowfall as winter's moon has grinned
No perfect pastel break-of-day upon a meadow's dew
And not a single cricket song to say goodnight to you
Town children love the bustle, the neon glow and cars
Yet deep I cede them pity for they are short the stars
But kids are kids, incredibly, with so much love to give
Each one a miracle, unique, no matter where they live.
Written and submitted on October 5, 2019
For the "Town Children" Poetry Contest
Julia Ward, Sponsor.