Short Tyres Poems

We all have our reasons

Mine is

I had 2 flat tyres

And no gas...

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The Lotus Position requires
A bunch of professional liars
Each one presuppose
That everyone knows
We can think away our spare tyres...

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Those squirrels aren't born to be squealers
Once flat it’s too late for faith healers
Midway between tyres
Avoids the hell fires
Alas, there are bloody three wheelers...

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A world where toffees are the coins
Burgers are the mobile phones
Sandwiches are the fan
Wheel like fryums are the tyres of car and vehicles
Rain of mango shakes
Snow of glitters......

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Here is what I need to say,
We're all humans with feet of clay,
So, do lay off us chicks today,
Go look in a mirror some day,
To older men with your spare tyres,
Yes! Your gynaecologist has retired!...

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WHEELS!!!!

Car insurance policies,
Snafu in technology,
Male methodology,
Some men are fun and comical,
Some are not so logical,
So-called men and their vehicles,
If they've got tyres and testicles!!!!!!...

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TREAD SOFTLY

I do recall a quiz question
Who made the most tyres
The audience was tasked
The answer is Lego, I fear
But was that in a good year
Some loud wit then asked
Another called them liars
It gave us all indigestion...

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But carry on he did young Michael
Upon his steed his trusted cycle
Set sail for another land
A boat he sailed with a hammers flag

Soon his tyres touched 
And although he thought as much
That this place smelled like marzipan
He'd landed in Afghanistan
...

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a frame cold-sprayed with
perfect tranquility; the world
and the bell are one,

a flock of wheels that join;
then the three-in-one in balance,
the sky,the moment, the crunch

of tyres on gravel,the river flows,
all suffering has gone,the day 
lengthens, this is where I am....

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Crashing and smashing,
CRASH! SMASH!
Then stop.
There the man is lying.
He is not a celebrity,
Or, some irritated,
On the hands of fame;
Or, one of the terrorists-
Will claim a headline.
Yet he lies peacefully there,
Under the tyres of civilization,
And Without any accusation,
Untill......

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MUSIC  FOR  DAMP WEATHER


The outlook is for less  cloud - 
Long damp vista : quiet street
Hiss of tyres,  occasional slap of feet.
As discrete notes catch
A  melody  snatch,
Uncertain wet dark shapes  summon
Perspectives   long gone.
Now replaced with a clear
Brighter drier path less drear ....

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I don't think it's raining
But I hear tyres, on rain filled roads

I feel like I can hear the light
Of the stars travelling through space

The hum of the Earth
Coming from the uncharted places beneath our feet

Swish, Cascade, Echo, Thud, Thud, Thud
Close yet distant, like the sound of a beating heart...

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My thoughts are caught on a cattle grid
Tractor tyres rumble over my ideas

The farmer's wife's bosom holds all the secrets
To an emporium of scent and voluptuous spheres

The bell rings for dinner and the daylight dimmers
The cows are a lowing and the z's climb for the clouds

It's night time in the Sussex Downs...

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When the early mist
rolls down the Inntal
              and tired rain
              hits the early windows

and speaks in a broken voice,
splashes like tyres on tarmac

your small engine of breath
stretches under trapped linen
              you are closed
              and distant.

Late Autumn. Time for frost....

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It’s a bicycle to ride
On a death-free roadside,
The killer cars gone to hide,
Busy traffic at its lowest tide
And catastrophe unlikely to glide!

So, why my time now bide?
For its tyres won’t ever slide;
All the slippery muddiness dried,
My concerned eyes, watchful and wide…

Journalists to never report “A rider has died”....

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I love my car called Bessie
Although she really is quite messy
All the doors are pretty rusty
Interior it is so dusty
Once she was a lovely blue
But now she's just a faded hue
The tyres are right down on their tread
And when I stop I feel such dread
One day a guy he came on by
My Bessie he did want to buy
I told him no, I love my Bessie
Even if she is quite messy...

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The road home from Glasgow airport
Tyres in front crying on my windscreen
Combine with the pain from the dark clouds 
That blanket the horizon 
Make a misty view.

Hard to see
The wipers cannae keep up.

A difficult road to drive
Many lanes to cross
Many emotions to deal with.

Getting closer to home.
Less tyre spray
Clouds breaking up.

I'll see him again....

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Cars and a Castle
Henry Ford –Engineer

On a worm eye these are the bicycles spooks, tyres are rotating on rubber.the smell of a rubber.the chrome had been sparkling. Dim -light and shines Reflecting of shadows and a bright sky.looking up to the clear less sky, it is just a sky with nothing interesting.it is only fluffy smoke and opens up to blue. a reflection of the sea....

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I was witness to poetry in motion
amidst all the world’s chaos and humdrum

As the sun lazily rose from its eastern bowers
this bare backed man presented quite a picture

He gracefully lowered his oar with a soft swish
moving slowly looking for fish

Rowed his makeshift boat on scooter tyres
the lone kayaker on lake waters.



for Backwards poem contest by Matt Caliri...

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AWAY IN A RED BULL

Away in a Red Bull
No speed limit here
I drive at two hundred
I’m born with no fear

I catch the Mercedes
And pass it with ease
From then on my rear end
Is all that he sees

I enter the pit lane
The pit crew awake
Four tyres in three seconds
No error they make

No one can stay near me 
And each night I pray
That always and ever
That’s how it will stay...

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God send me the flower
Send it Red
With petals and 
Stalk
Stalk I can hold with my heart
And pedal to happiness
My bi-cycle
This is love cycle
Me and my baibe
Holding hands in the streets
Following each other 
On the pavement
Like those bicycle tyres
Red Rose
Here is February
I need my garden Red
Lilies in my lake
All I need is love
That's
Appealing like red rose
And
Shining like lilies....

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DOWN  TO  EARTH  PLEASURES




Tyres screech and we’re down
Glad of it
Something satisfying about walking
     ---Where grass and flowers grow
On solid earth instead
Of an aluminum floor
With nothing growing
And only millimeters separate me from nothing
    ---Where turbulence affects only swirling leaves
And thunderclouds threaten only a drenching
And pressure on ears
Comes only from the dog’s tongue...

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Bronchial car chugged along,
As if it was a train,
Its tyres were bald,
Needing treading,
Its color unhealthy pale,
Its window glasses almost porous,
That you sit in four,
And possibly take a tour,
Was a surprise,
It seemed like our old folks,
Bronchial, pale and unhealthy,
If the old car was to tour,
It has to be cared more,
Same for our old,
You have to care and be warm,
And simply not a hostile cold....

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I feel like am in a dark hole,
Being sucked in by her thoughts hovering in my head like a satellite in space.
I have found myself bound in a cobweb by her series of thoughts.
It’s clear when it comes to her, I have neurological weakness.
I don’t blame myself, she’s a nice piece of art and as a painter, and I know art when I see one.
Her thoughts are like tyres with treads leaving trails whenever we see each other....

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It’s big and beautiful
Nobody can beat it 
It shines the wax so bright
I polish it every day and night
Its black and it’s sexy and fast
The seat covers, they are a blast
0-60 in 4 seconds flat
Bet your car can’t beat that
The sparks from the exhaust fly
One two three - to late I’ve gone by
White walled tyres you can’t beat
Open top roof goes back so neat
I feel the best I am a giant
I got a speed ticket in my Robin Reliant...

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