Motor Poems | Examples

uptight

Your Choice T Poetry Contest: Sponsored by Brian Strand (April/May 2025)

all time classic soul
music from a poor man’s son
turn that volume up
for the motor city sound
now everything is alright

Motor Mouth Clyde

the new employee was a walking cartoon
opening his mouth proved he was a buffoon
would have seemed wiser if he could have kept quiet
said the weirdest things, thought he was a riot

we ran from the lunchroom as soon as we spied
the exaggerator, who made up things, and always lied.
Did we ever give him a chance? Yes some of us tried.
But he was a horror, this motor-mouth, Clyde.

Enduro Cliff Motor Biking

One nerve-wracking race
Is motor bike cliff climbing
Grand finesse with grace.

when the motor cut

the skiff chugs along
toward the end of the lake
where the tall peaks rise

snowcapped mountains ripple
across a backwash

an eagle
glides in a blue distance

a red and yellow float
mirrors itself
below the surface

one silvery fish slipping 
under
a deeply swimming sun

no way to catch that

Odor's Motor

   Fine scent
     Suave gent

   Wad spent
      Descent

A Motor Park In Nigeria

Here, the word I drop for Travelers “Hark!”
Where offended driver begins to bark:
“Why should you there your Stupid Volvo park?”
The bared teeth of speaker those of a shark;
If he sank them in one’s flesh the same mark,
Now cursing one, next singing like a lark…

Hurry not if destination is Park,
Not the Amusements, I mean: Motor Park!
Where wires of new licensed cars spark,
Your pockets picked while Daylight was still stark,
Fights ignited last until it is dark:
Preachers surface to dwell on Noah’s Ark…

Where one meets with Comedian Passengers,
By their sides Satan’s Soft Messengers… 

For thee a tried Nigerian Motor Park,
In which had been displayed Award Gold Plaque…

A Little Motor Inside Me

I pointed to a little motor inside me
  My teacher shook her head
Said, 'No such thing, no such name'
  Left her classroom burning with shame

All the same I heard it a-whirring and purring
  Directing my footsteps, so reassuring
Though not on a path my teacher would like
  I felt it touch my soul, almost dreamlike

Never did I return to that cursed classroom
  I needed my freedom so I could bloom
My motor inside would propel me to heights
  ~ no longer beholden to artificial light

Motor

Motor

O grande motor da vida
é o sonho,...Sempre 
que uma pessoa sonha 
o mundo pula 
como bola colorida 
nas mãos de uma criança.

O sonho 
é batom,
é espuma, 
é fermento, 
bichinho 
de focinho pontudo, 
que fossa através de tudo 
num perpétuo movimento
de fazer mais e mais.

Burn Rubber

As I get older I’m taking a liking
To relive my youth and go motor biking 
To pull back the throttle and kick down the gear
And tear up the highway, just like yesteryear
My hair flowing free as I ride without care
My wife put me straight, ‘You ain’t got any hair.’

I told her there’s one thing that time never steals
The rush that a man only feels on two wheels
And out on the road in all my old leathers 
My gas driven steed shall vanquish all weathers
I’ll ride and I’ll ride till my legs are like jelly
She said that those leathers won’t cover that belly

Give me dirt on my face and flies in my teeth
Akin to a cow-herder out driving beef
The pounding of pistons driving me on
The joy of not knowing where to or where from 
She said okay go be a speeding banshee
But don’t go too far in case you need to pee

I had to relent there’ll be no pennies spent
I can’t blame the wife, her thoughts were well meant
Don’t wanna get caught short in skin hugging leathers
There’s must be more ways to escape boredom’s tethers
And so this is me, not wild and not free
Just a wannabe biker writing bike poetry

When the Motor Cut

The outboard chugged along 
toward the end of the lake
where the tall peaks were.

When the motor cut, all was still.
Then snowcapped mountains 
began to rise-up from the lake;
eagles flew under our hull.

Imagine staring at your float,
humped like a heron over the bow
while a panoramic sky 
moved under your boots.
Imagine Rainbow trout
sailing around the sun.

No way to catch that.

Charges One's Motor

Seventy degrees in Canada in October
You'd think I've been drinking but I'm totally sober
Take it while we can
Cold weather's soon at hand
Enjoy! Enjoy! This sure charges one's motor

Road Rage

We know all roads lead to Rome
So you drive a posh Motor Home
For goodness sake
Elate your mate
And lose that damn garden gnome!

He Loves Motor Bikes

Beetles on wheels
Carrying lazy men or women
On their dead backs

Betty the Motor Bus

Betty was a Motor bus
She was the smartest ever seen
Painted in a scarlet red
With pretty wheels of khaki green

Life was dull for Betty bus
She ran the same route every day
Then Betty had a great idea
She turned and drove the other way

So then one wintery afternoon
She decided she would play a tune
How her shoppers laughed with glee
They made Betty a busy bee

So, when one day your sad, or glum
Or life becomes a bore
Then come aboard old Betty's bus
You'll want to ride her more and more

Starts My Motor A-Purring

There must be a better way to start each day
Than waking up each morning, what do you say
In the arms of girlie
Now that would surely
Start my motor a-purring in a delightful way

• Short Motor Poems
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