Long Gas pedal Poems
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It's a big world, don't believe it
try driving through Texas on a hot August day
with the AC out and the windows down
nothing but road and space and a clear blue
western Texas sky.
Unmerciful sun hammers down and it feels like
it is hitching a ride along side of you.
The breeze through the car window feels like a flame
scorching your face, only the evaporating sweat
ceases burnt skin.
Driving to oblivion with no other vehicles to be seen
just miles and miles of open road, and beside the roads
shrubby trees and pastureland with moo cows
roasting in the heat swinging tails to swat flies
always a lone abandon house crumbling to dust.
At least the bluebells bloom on the side of the road
in spring. This ain't spring. Just a Texas summer
that rivals the furnace of hell. Out of nowhere following
you from behind a hearse driven by a gaunt thin tall
man with eyes as blue as the devils'
Why you feel uneasy not sure but a heavy foot
on the gas pedal for distance, the rear mirror
shows the long black Lincoln limousine shinning
behind, behind, behind...no more
a smirk of satisfaction and ease to go slower.
It's a big world you turn to your destination
life again, noise, streets, buildings, people
it even feels just a bit cooler.
turn in to the house driveway to park, open car door
stretch those legs and arms, look and see
Next door in the driveway a long black Lincoln
limousine, naw it couldn't be, got to be another hearse
Out the neighbors door gaunt thin and tall devil blue eyes
nods his head. The world feels small now
it is just not big enough.
Stopped for a rest on my drive back home
Got out to stretch my legs
When I got back in I noticed a change
It surprised this hard boiled egg
The gas pedal was closer than it was before
A fact it made me holler
“What's going on? I'm really quite spooked!”
“I must be one foot taller!”
Now I know it's just an old expression
You don't literally stretch your legs
But for someone learning the english language
These nuances are hard to peg
“Cause if the stretching were really true
I'd soon be over eight feet tall
I'd have to build a room with extra high ceilings
So I don't bump my head and fall!
© Jack Ellison 2015
In upstate N.Y., off lake Ontario.
Haunting my dreams, this memory.
Here's the scenario
A cold mild breeze blows
on this Saturday in mid October.
Nine friends decide on the town carnival
Drunk, high, far from sober.
Every town had a carnival
in the October month.
We'd try for every one of them,
young men out on the hunt.
Moderate sized carnivals
containing the different towns,
all types of people came.
You had your jocks, thugs, and me..
The class clown...
All nine friends stylishly dressed
for the upcoming fun.
We pile into a Monte' Carlo,
passing the bottle of Bacardi rum.
We drive down Cetenary road
on the southeast side of town.
Our driver gains reckless speeds,
not thinking of our safety.
He comes to a screeching halt
at the intersection of Cetenary and Lake
He seemed to be excited
about the right turn he was about to make
Hard he presses the gas pedal,
the tires begin to spin
The rear starts radically fishtailing
the nightmare now begins.
First storming to the right
a voice screams out
"OH S#%T"
He jerks the wheel, now left.
We're now heading for a ditch.
At that moment all went black,
screams turned into whispers.
When my consciousness regained
what I saw sent spinal shivers.
Broken, blood stained glass,
seven bodies laying limp.
Skull fragments on the steering wheel,
I couldn't come to grip.
Nine friends set out intoxicated
This late October day
Taken by ambulance for treatment
And an overnight, extended stay
Jared Pickett........:JP]
Often meandering,
With forks full of potholes;
The highway of life.
It's not the yellow brick road...
With Dorothy
Prancing along.
Caution must be exercised;
Gentle on the gas pedal...
At all times on our travels.
We eventually reach
Our destination
We aren't in a nascar race;
Patience is
Of paramount importance!
Life's serpentine freeway
Couldn't be more treacherous
We either obey
The speed limit
Or risk recklessly
Careening off.
"M" Contest - New Poem Only - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Theme chosen: Meandering
Date written: 09/17/2021
Anti-Poem – “At Pinks With Little Susie”
maybe if we hold hands the dizziness will go away
little susie be driving a ‘62 gray pontiac grand prix
she say driving is easy once you get the hang of it
tan nyloned legs caress the gas pedal with mettle
flying fast now she stops at melrose and van ness
susie say she feels sick and thinks it’s the roadkill
i just hit something bad she say it ain’t alive now
maybe if we play parcheesi all day it will go away
my problems be like sticky ants she say they stay
susie parks the pontiac in a shaded lot on la brea
she says she wants a pinks hot dog and a yoohoo
cool guys with duck tails and taps hang out there
their scarf-wearing chicks smoke filter cigarettes
susie thinks life is a vicious monster with no eyes
it just attacks and kills everyday and everywhere
susie say her hot dog tastes good tastes like love
will you marry me susie i says suddenly laughing
maybe if we marry all the bad things will go away
little susie be driving home now holding my hand
Ah, my teenage years!
Unforgettable
The fun driving lessons
In the summertime,
many moons ago
with my dearly departed father
lingering,
precious,
magnolia-scented memories
Perennially haunting
and tantalizingly close
to recall
I fondly remember
my father's patience
through it all
Riding shotgun,
helping me
steer the wheel
with a steady left hand
"Easy now, son...easy on the gas pedal..."
"Return the steering wheel after every turn..."
Oh, I remember
those calm, silken words of his
all too well
Memories worth
more than gold;
too expensive
to be bought
Lines Of Ten That Remind You What It Was Like Back Then Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One (Winner: 2nd Place)
Date written and posted: 09/27/2018
Stopped for a rest on my drive back home
Got out to stretch my legs
When I got back in I noticed a change
It surprised this hard boiled egg
The gas pedal was closer than it was before
A fact it made me holler
“What's going on? I'm really quite spooked!”
“I must be one foot taller!”
Now I know it's just an old expression
You don't literally stretch your legs
But for someone learning the english language
These nuances are hard to peg
“Cause if the stretching were really true
I'd soon be over eight feet tall
I'd have to build a room with high ceilings
So I don't bump my head and fall!
© Jack Ellison 2013
The morning seemed quiet when I got up from my bed,
The air was still, as I shook the cobwebs from my head.
I walked slowly into the bathroom to wash my face,
Work must be done and I must prepare for my daily race.
Brushing my teeth and running water through my hair,
I know this day might be good and the weather is so fair.
Streams of sunlight peer through open shades,
I walk to the kitchen, barely awake in a daze.
Open the cabinet for the coffee just inside,
I notice it's empty and then I almost cried.
I gather up my clothes, in a such a terrible rush,
The coffee helps me focus, gives my brain a good flush.
I jump out the door with the speed of lightning,
Into my truck, without coffee my day is frightening.
A few brief minutes passes by as I blaze into town,
My trucks roars down the street with my gas pedal down.
I see Starbucks ahead and my mouth is watering,
Can't wait to taste my coffee for this morning.
Roll down my window with such hast to order my prize,
I ask for a large hazelnut coffee with joy in my eyes.
I make it to work a few minutes early today,
Knowing that I made it, but only halfway.
I'm practically a ghost,
seldom seen.
I'm mounted on some traffic lights,
so ease up on the gas pedal!
You never notice me
unless your GPS is in use,
but I see you coming.
I never sleep on the job.
I see everything
day or night
rain or shine
I'm a road photographer.
I wonder why vehicles
never smile
when I take their pictures.
Perhaps they're angry
for their drivers as they know
a mailed citation letter
is a sure thing?
I'm a proud revenue cash cow.
I do not discriminate.
Rich or poor,
young or old,
I will penalize if
you exceed my speed limit!
Slow down road warriors,
or I'll bite a chunk
off your bank account!
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (25) ,any form,any theme
Sponsored by Brian Strand (Winner: Honorable Mention)
Date submitted: 08/18/2020
It Sucks Poetry Contest(N/A)
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Date written: 08/07/2020
Hatred, see the world with love?
Sure. That can't be helped.
Agony, arc. O alcove:
Wendigo is whelped.
Sickening loss, tempest toss.
Hard work, go to waste.
No use hanging on the cross!
Bitter is the taste!
Caiman, the gulf floor. Abhor?
Oh, good sir, you bet.
O computer, where's the door?
Aren't we fancy-fret.
Thrashing round the thresher?
O chaff blue, from brown grain.
Cannibal, refresher?
That flesh, sir! Deign to drain!
Red mountain, yellow forest.
Wild will be that fire.
Lava, ignite. Pray, poor pest.
Sad thy sprawling sire.
Parents, clutch thy offspring?
We do the best we can.
Sacrosanct? Sick? Silvering?
Reconcile run? Ran.
Ghastly gale. Green gibbous glow.
Cobalt blue bad moon.
Captive, open door. Let's go?
Well, it's none too soon.
Tiny crosses. Metal.
They fell straight from the sky.
On that cliff? Gas pedal!
Eternity, odd eye...