Scooters Poems | Examples

White Whimsical Poem

Write me a white whimsical poem 
With fairies unicorns and wizards 
May all the men be kind and strong
And the grandmas never cook gizzards

And the children always play outside
Doors of the houses are never locked
Games aren’t on phones computerized
With joy playing ball and hopscotch 

No war crimes and no school shooter 
We all smile in the coolest clothes
Riding bikes skateboards or scooters 
Happiness is what we all know

Looking back it was a fantasy
To live in a simpler time yesterday 
Perhaps we can learn to be
As free if we dream and find a way

I remember

I Remember 

I remember a time
When all was so bright
With bustling crowds 
And neon lit nights

Covered wagon caterpillars 
And bunnies of blue
Teacups that spun
You sat in them too

I remember the days
When scooters could fly
Pinball was king
And everything thrived

I remember the smells
Of hot dogs & beer
I remember it all
And wish it still there

Bill MacEachern
05/02/2022

Vanilla

Ice, ice, baby
You pour me over maybe
A straw to pierce the depths
Inhale the deepest breaths

A fancy glass all fluted
In milky joy I'm rooted
A scoop of whizzed banana
Tastes of pure Americana

The decor is all flashy
Just white and red, not trashy
All dressed up in your nifties
Time travel to the fifties

For teens on scooters suited
All sweetness undiluted
A jukebox in the corner
Soothes away all worldy trauma

Drop a dime to stick a tune on
Whirrs and clicks to drop the best song
Grab yourself a Coca-Cola
Dance in lights from the Rock-Ola

Gals all twirls and frilly knickers
Dudes in shiny winkle pickers
There's an innocence and beauty
As they jive to Tutti Frutti

How we'd love to travel back there
Leaving every burden and care
Just an evening sure to thrill ya
Taste of ice-cold pure vanilla

Grey Power Rules, Ok

It was a day of chaos
The day the pensioners struck,
Massed Mobility Scooters moving
Forward like a Rugby Union ruck, 
Blocking all the streets
In the centre of town,
To all intents and purposes
Closing the city down.
The police were very tolerant, 
Withdrawing their attack
After more than one officer suffered
From a wielded walking stick's whack.
The atmosphere changed
Soon after that 
Lots of bonhomie 
Banter and chit chat.
The action was called offi
Promptly at five to three
Thus allowing each 
To be home in time for tea.
The action wasn't called
For any cause or good:
No it was carried out 
Just to show they could.
Massed Mobility Scooters moving
Forward like a Rugby Union ruck.
It was a day of chaos
The day the pensioners struck.

Christmas Toys For Children

C-Chris Kringle's 
H-Hideaway 
R- Readily 
I-Infinite 
S-Santa's 
T-Toy
M-Making
A-All
S-Successfully

T-Trucks
O-Operation
Y-Yo Yo’s
S-Scooters

F-Fun
O-Ornaments 
R-Reflecting

C-Creating
H-Happiness
I-Intriguing 
L-Laughter
D-Dreaming
R-Radiant
E-Eyes
N-Nonstop

Exhaust Fumes

E-bikes, E-scooters, E-cars
Darting through the streets
Even E-mountain bikes
To take you to the peaks.

One problem with this E-solution
Is the amount of E-pollution
as we plug them in at night
drawing power, out of sight.

Unlike the runner or the cyclist
powered by plant-based fuels
shortsightedly we lobby for
these battery powered tools.

It seems these “green” solutions
all contain a power curse
for it seems to me their “green-ness”
is fueled by something worse.

They grasp the reins with steely fingers
in a “gentle” show of force
for the basis of their movement is
“keep the blinders on the horse”


John G. Lawless
©4/3/2022

Reflections

Ferry on the river;
‘Copter in the sky.
Bicycles and scooters
(Some with bells!) all pass me by.

Joggers pound the pavement;
Walkers simply stroll.
Benches are deserted.
(Recent raindrops took a toll.)

Still, I’m out here sitting,
Checking out the scene,
Feeling not quite up or down
But somewhere in between.

As my trusty pencil
Jots each thought upon a line,
It helps record reflections
Found within this mind of mine.

School Today

The grandkids have gone back to school
Eight-thirty ‘til eleven,
The days too short for even them,
At ages five and seven.

We walked them there and picked them up
But classes weren’t adjourning;
Instead, the laptops came on board
For blocks of online learning.

We’re in way over both our heads
On mouseless Chrome computers
And also on the hilly streets
Where they like riding scooters.

Despite some stress, we still had fun;
Our grandkids are delicious,
But getting back to full-time school,
Let’s hope is expeditious.

Three Car Garage

books
paint brushes
glitter glue
canvases
paper
sewing machines
balls and toys
bats and mats
scooters and bikes
Batman and Wonder Woman
Red Flyer Wagon
rakes
Two axes and a hatchet
Barbeque grill
Couch, chair, three tables
Microwave, TV, light fixtures
Shredder and Fax machine
Bed, freezer, extra mattress
A three car garage but no room for a car

Scooters

In downtown Denver, people 
Zip around without a care
On the scooters that the city
Lets them access everywhere.

They are ridden on the sidewalks 
So whoever gets the urge
Locates one that's sitting idly 
With a battery's full surge.

They're not found in New York City, 
Where shared bikes are what folks use 
But if they make an appearance,
I think Citibikes would lose.

It's a vision of the future.
Walking, one day, won't exist
And perambulation, possibly,
Won't even be much missed.

Urban Playground

The mommies or daddies
Or nannies convene
With toddlers or infants in tow.
The strollers get parked
And, as well, on the scene 
Are the scooters for those in the know.

The sandbox and monkey bars
Plus all the slides
Keep everyone happy at play,
While the older kids run
And, at times, someone hides
On a typical after-school day.

The playground is jammed;
All the benches are filled
As the laughter and shouts fill the air
And as evening draws near
Soon the sounds will be stilled 
As the silence, so strange, settles there.

Almost a Great Limerick

Al Gore Jr. set out to save the world
His plan to stop climate change, he unfurled --
   But since stopping emissions
   Depends on politicians --
He's selling motorized scooters instead

Different Levels of Broken

Shelters are pit stops for those who ride scooters all day. They're never late for anything: no boss. Broken, but they're having fun. I wave from my office window. I smirk from my secured post.  I gaze from my office window. I weep from my bus seat, as I ride home, broken.

Postmodern Scooter

They watch, they see, not telling thee of their eyes everywhere
In your house, your bed, following you anywhere
on scooters woven in faux green, yelling tell you look
large and seated, tracking you, looking for what you took
RUN RUN, for they cannot, they paint themselves in dance
wash away wash away Jiya and all, who hurt them every chance!
Why do you tell me my stomach to swell
For I dance far more well
I am Whitney I can shine
Till I meet with my cursed divine!
Twirl, leap, shake, hop!
Yet Jiya can hardly make a bop
For I move mountains and rivers and seas
While others move at her every step for she bears smaller than me
Injustice! Terror! All and All! Taken in my name
I have been committed injustices  grave
For I am Whitney, big, fat, fabulous and free!
For all I am ,scooter to hat,you must accept me.

In This Town of Very Soft Sounds

I have lived in other northern towns
with the loud noise of scooters,
of racing cars that deafened the ears,
but in this town of very soft sounds
the lowest sound is a canary
that wakes me whenever he pleases;
I simply named him," Happy "
for his harmonious chirps so groovy.

In my younger years, 
it didn't matter much where I lived,
now it does; the clean street flanked
by beautiful oak trees
is the perfect heaven created by ingenuous hands
that foresaw a happy living...
and with flora and fauna enduring,
all the revealed beauty is shared in joyful moments.

Whenever another sunset approaches,
silence soothes the lonely soul in contemplation;
the children have gone home, the ravens 
don't croak, it's time for prayer and meditation...

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