my favorite car cost me seventy-five dollars
back in 1968 when I was sixteen and knew everything
It was an old Pontiac, ugly green, and it smelled funny
I did not care, I was making $1.50 an hour at the time
This car was a bargain at seventy-five dollars.
I drove the wheels off that car; loving the freedom it gave me
I think we got up to ninety many times, but do not remember going 100.
It was shaking by the time we got up to eighty.
Like a carnival ride, only better, because I was in control.
what kind of conveyance can you use?
I had done nothing but confuse
Buck, Pontiac, Rambler or what?
words unheard of by my grandson Strut
Eventualities don't apply to me
(I can dream)
no matter their presence
in the mirrors of reality
Always one step ahead
though the shrinking distance
haunts
like the miles left for a Tesla charge
eventualities be damned
A proud GTO once sneered
at the pitiful jalopies that
soiled the curb
a roaring young engine
never once to glance at
those left behind -
the defunct riffraff
that Pontiac replaced,
now, their value measured only
by the thump of a
Mecum gavel
The showrooms now occupied
by "green" Prius's
and other hybrid youths
who sneer at discontinued
glutinous appetites
While the GTO,
like a deserted lunar excursion module,
waits for the next Apollo mission -
still
I've learned to celebrate today
until my "jalopiness" overcomes me -
eventualities be damned!
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
Sometimes we like to do something for the story
we’ll tell afterwards. Buy a ’58 Pontiac, climb
a mountain in the dark. Lamar tells dirty jokes
with class, knows how to wait awhile, bend
a syllable and savor the laughter.
Absurd work, building a fence miles long
waste of steel and strong straight lodgepole pine
but even I don’t pine over it anymore. We’re
the government's children, fence is play and
livelihood also, but something cheerful as sunshine
for all the death it costs. There is so much life
a little death doesn’t matter. We stretch our muscles
the men feel like men, the women feel good too.
We stand around, watch a young rabbit one morning.
My Heroine in life,
is my Aunt Imojean.
She was a Soldier,
in Nineteen Forty-Three.
When they sent the "Boy's" in,
That's France, Normandy.
Then, on the sixth Day,
They sent Imojean.
She was an officer
in the United States Army.
She served in triage,
in Normandy.
The "Boy's "the Boy's",
A Stark Reality.
Why Do We Do It,
She Said to Me,
We Do it for US,
And We Choose to live Free.
My Heroine in Life,
is my Aunt Imojean.
She came through all that,
Back to Michigan Land.
Worked Pontiac Finance,
Brave Ladies' in France.
She's, A Saint and Inspiration,
She is all, of these things.
My Heroine in Life,
Earned Her, Angles Wings.
.
My Heroine Poetry Contest
Sponsored By:
Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Aug 4th, 2022.
My first car was a twelve year old Pontiac and this was in 1971.
I bought it from a boy I worked with at the grocery store.
His name was Joe, and he sold it to me for a meager $75.
I was making $1.58 an hour, so that was a huge price.
It was the ugliest color of green, but I loved it.
Because it was mine, and it went fast.
I drove it to college and back with a vengeance.
We tore up and down the road at eighty to a hundred miles an hour.
This was in the day when the cops were not out much
Except at the end of the month, and we all knew what day.
I named her Sammy, and I adored her until her engine blew.
Ka—put. She simply quit working. Bam!
I went to Joe’s house. His mother answered the door.
I told her I needed to talk to him; she knew I was serious.
I demanded and got my seventy-five dollars back.
I had only had that car for eight months.
I ended up marrying him, and we still laugh about it.
I think he would have given me double my money back.
He thought I was cute,
and I was.
He was so super cool
Who on the screen bent the rules
When the sheriff was in pursuit with no holds barred
The 70’s rocked in part because of Burt Reynolds starred
And the Black Pontiac Firebird running ahead
With Sally Fields as his sidekick without dread
Jackie Gleason the sheriff chasing the sumbich in his way
To deliver a truck load of beer as he raced away
So Smokey and the Bandit is history now
But we will remember him as the epitome of cool with a dash of pow
Vale to a screen hero who passed today
A movie star who made us laugh and was cool in his own way.
© Paul Warren Poetry
There once was a stooped man from Pontiac
Who was an old ailing insomniac
He tried pills
Added to ills
He should have been drinking brandy cognac
Promo
Point guards and shooting guards
On the floor
No visiting team hits
or scores
If a shoot is made,
Altered is its destination.
'Cause the All Stars is history in the making.
Coach
Guards
On the floor
No one hits
The score
If a shoot is made,
Altered is its destination.
'Cause the All Stars has history in the making.
Guards and centers are now
On the floor
No visiting team hits
or scores
When a shoot is made,
Alter its destination.
Captured the ball and slam-dunk in their faces.
Guards, centers, and forwards -
All are on the floor.
Not to let the visiting team score.
Once a shoot is made,
Misshapen its destination.
Apprehend the ball and alley hoop for home.
We are the All Stars -
The Team to score
With confidence and so much more!
______________________________________|
Written May 07, 2016!
A TRIBUTE TO PRINCE FROM PONTIAC, MICHIGAN
Driving a new Colorado Storm into the City with the radio disc jockey playing a song of Prince.
The sky is clear and the sun is shining.
I feeling good irregardless.
Of course, he will be missed.
It seems like life is leaving today with a mental preference.
Is it better to believe in immortality?
His [Prince...] body was found in a peaceful state.
It seems to be best and in a better place.
Walking into my place of business with a solemn face.
My mind is preoccupied with thoughts of life itself.
It seems like so many known travel a foreseen path.
Transgression is life expectancy destine.
A lifetime is never aged when you live life to its fullest and enjoy every day.
Even when sadness embrace, as all of us know, our life still will span the globe.
Existence is eternal to our souls.
Prince was a sparkle that true essence shown.
__________________________________________________________________|
Written April 24, 2016!
Oh he was deep black and so shiny in the sun,
I fell in love the moment I first saw him;
There was a need to have him- this was no whim,
I could see us together, it was a love staggering.
Oh he wasn't a man but a car, a Pontiac Firebird,
So I bought him and I thought it was forever;
I washed him by hand- in a car wash never,
While driving we got the looks, oh so flattering.
Well he was older, so there was some clattering,
But he was an original if you know what I mean;
Wherever we went he made quite the scene,
As he got older I did notice the odd little tremor;
The day I lost him to car heaven I was shattered,
After the crash he was quite broken and tattered.
____________________
December 3, 2015
Canzone
For the contest, For Women Only
(Would you, Could you) Write About Cars
Sponsor, A Poet Destroyer
Sixth Place
She tore me apart
under a rockabilly sunset;
Set me free from the
sway of pop culture jive
with her bass-line booty.
She smelled like gasoline,
tasted like cherries,
and made my heart rumble like a .454
And she knew she had me,
when she dropped her hair
outta that black bandanna,
wrapped it it round my neck,
and lit me up with
…Pontiac red lips.
Yeah, she tore me down
like a fixer-upper,
built me back up,
and revved me high.
Reeedd liinedd by those
spider web leggins’.
I know she’s mine,
thank God in Heaven.
Cuz when she whispers in my
ear “Baby, lets go for a ride”
I can’t find a way to make
this monster glide.
We’re stuck in high gear,
bound to make it outta town
for’ daddy knows I got her
sittin’ in the middle of my bench
seat ‘stead of that church pew.
I know he’ll come a lookin’
but as long as we keep bookin’
we’ll make it to horizon ‘for the
world even knows we’re gone.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved
Verse 2)
Grandma Willie Mae ,March 14th and a K
Back in 90 Jr birthday; The Gilcrease DNA
The A between M & E Grandma are you missing me Pontiac Phoenix
heart Key
Driving me crazy, memories of when I use to Z
Mash Potatoes sound yummy and Seven Kids said Mommy
Would you know me if I mumbled
Will it be the same like Double
Click It Or Ticket so I buckled
And Um If there's A Will grandson may Add a second to your life
20 10 Eternal life a Life tag and a price
20 acres my Grandma life the old skool smelling of rice
Killing snakes sharp like a knife President and Vice
The sweetness of you is in Pooh's hive your Baby Son is married to the same wife
And Grandma I have a question would you know my name in Heaven if so that's a Blessing
- Loverboi
Two bodies hanging from annihilated cars
Collided hearts
Crashed at the lips
Creating daydreams with the impact of their fingertips
Worlds bleeding onto the jagged spears of shattered windshields
Love forming on the merged, crumpled hoods; Love the bodies can't feel
A marriage in death
Exchanging vows in silent breath
You may kiss the bride, the stranger
Upon this altar of a devastated Pontiac Grand Prix and a mangled Jeep Wrangler
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