Tailgate Poems | Examples

Drive with Caution

signs and warnings out and about
reminders for caution and safety on the roads
we know sunday drivers are a menace
apparently red squirrels drive slowly
while the black ones drive too fast
chipmunks on their bicycle hog the road
and it's not smart to tailgate skunks
it's always wise to mind your manners
so stay alert and be considerate
share the road ~ 'arrive alive' the motto


AP: 3rd place 2025

Acceptance

I haven’t truly lived until now. 
I have been locked away for so long 
In a small room in a place that was never my home. 
Home is where you feel safe. 
My freedom without judgment is where I feel most safe, maybe that’s home. 
That’s how I feel now. 

Full throttle and no chain linked connected to the wall on my tailgate. 
I broke that. 
A cloud of smoke from the exhaust and my tires working hard to break the chain made me feel like I was in the sky. 
I flew. 
Down the coastline, windows rolled down
Serendipity is waving hello with the waves.

In Autumn

In Autumn

In Autumn pumpkins hang out in 
hedge mazes, corn visits wreathes in
Finland, spices go to 
music festivals, photos of 
chestnuts do 
the splits, marsh mellows make 
prank calls, haunted houses tailgate 
tourist buses and 
fire trucks and 
ambulances, porcupines stop 
thinking, umbrellas talk 
24/7, squirrels read 
encyclopaedias, jam people pretend 
to be dead, candle people pretend 
to be deaf, scarves wear 
boots, maple syrup gurgle 
nursery rhymes, hens learn to 
play the 
banjo, chickens lay 
cell phones, cherries chase after 
bunnies, cupcakes plant 
trees, wallets take out 
the garbage, and
mittens dip themselves in 
cream cheese.

Football game

Crowded stadium 
tailgate parties on
smoking barbecue
beer and booze flowing
chatter, loud music.
 
Warmth of friendship 
high with the drinks 
bare chest in snow
one big proud fan.

crowd cheering 
Band playing  
players wrestling. 

the beer 
popcorn 

Food

A Little Late?

A little late?
Tailgate?
Uhoh, smash!
It's a crash!
Hospital bed -
Enough said.

Old Weathered Pickup

A rust-eaten frame, a canvas of scars,
A weathered old truck, a king of the bars.
Its paint, once a gleam, now faded and worn,
Like a story told, a lesson to be born.

The tailgate hangs loose, a creak in its swing,
A testament to loads it has borne and will bring.
The tires are knobby, hardened with grit,
From roads less traveled, a seasoned spirit.

The engine, a rumble, a groan and a sigh,
A symphony of power, reaching for the sky.
Its windows are cracked, with stories untold,
Of journeys taken, in sun and in cold.

Inside, a worn seat, a leather embrace,
The scent of old grease, in every space.
A dashboard of dials, with needles that stray,
Whispering secrets, from yesterday.

This beat-up pickup, a soul in its steel,
A faithful companion, a friend that's real.
It carries the weight of life, with a hardy grace,
A symbol of resilience, in time and in space.

What the Friggin

What The Friggin
Happened here mate.
I thought we had a date
Now you're late
Where's the bait?
I've burnt the steak.
You're a flippin' 
flagellate.
Get off your tailgate
and get over here
and gestate.
You friggin'
degenerate
cheapskate.

Disrespecting My Friends Anguish

My friend’s house caught on fire when she was gone.
It was a gorgeous house, in the country, on fifty acres.
She had painted custom murals and decorated every room fancy.
The kind of house people “ooh and ahh” over, due to its beauty.

She had worked on this house for over twenty-seven years.
She was gone that day. It was a devastation. A total wipe out fire.
Not only did people drive out to watch the fire, they brought snacks.
I don’t know which was worse, she told me.

Losing my house or picking up the trash people threw out of their cars.
I was horrified and of course, she was devastated.
Who does this? Some people did, driving up into the yard to watch.
As if it was a bonfire. Sadly, some treated it like a tailgate party.
Utter disrespect for another, leaving trash in her yard like that.

Bobo's Comeuppance

A Rottweiler  Shepard mix
longsuffering had proven to be
With the Doberman pup, a red one,
won on a gambling spree

Rocky the mix and BoBo
 coexisted for a time
As any two male dogs can manage
till BoBo reached his prime

Suddenly all manners
right out the door
Or respect for the one
The younger Used to adore


Who would allow him as pup
his tail to bite
Sleeping all day
Keep him up half the night

  On a road trip  in
 the trucks bed they lay
Appearing that all fine 
No emotions  on display

As Rocky got out first 
As is the Alphas right
BoBo shot with no warning
his testes  to savagely bite

Poor Rocky was loaded
to go to the vet
my mom left in charge
Of the  deranged pet


A heavily sedated dog returned
It's angry owner as well
As soon as the tailgate dropped
Rocky unleashed some karma Hell


Young BoBo was hit
So hard and so fast
He rolled for three or four feet,then Old Rocky
indelicately performed his amigos vasectomy neat


The challenge given and answered
Settled the rest of their days
respect that's earned we should not forget
Should machismo get in the way

Street Skiing

Early one Christmas morning, many years ago, 
after the earth received a new blanket of fresh fallen snow, 
and while the day was still dark and new, Wondering why 
did our Big Brother wake us? we didn't have a clue.

Hands gripping tailgate
Ski upon the ice and snow
happily we'd go
7/1/2020

Road Rage

It takes two to tango, 
as they say. 
It also takes two 
to road rage. 
It sure is fun watching 
two insane, 
out-of-control knuckleheads 
zigzag aggressively 
on the highway
with their driver windows down;
honking their car horns,
screaming 
vile obscenities back and forth!
Classy guys exchanging "bird flips"
as they chase each other down; 
both angry enough 
to run each other off the road, 
if they ever end up
side by side! 
Can you imagine 
being caught up in that craziness?
Two banshees on steroids;
funny considering
one can't understand the other.
That's exactly how to communicate!
In the midst 
of all the chaotic madness,
me and you; two safe drivers 
sharing the road with two idiots 
without a care in the world 
about the safety of others; 
completely oblivious 
they're also playing Russian Roulette 
with their own lives. 
Neither of the two
possessing the presence of mind 
to simply disengage 
and turn down the heat 
before it spells disaster!  
Do not tailgate 
these uncivilized loons.
Pullover to the shoulder, 
or better yet, 
take the next exit to safety.


Date written: 05/03/2020

One Date Too Many

she spoke of her man who rode a horse
to date her one night
no carriage in place for her to sit
she smacked the horse’s rear
her man was ridden out of sight.

she spoke of her man who had horse
and wagon on her next date
t’was a bumpy  ride because of the trail
he held the stirrups tight but she loosened the hitches
her man was dragged  to his endless fate.

she spoke still of another man
who showed up with coach and driver  
frolicking as they rode, the driver became amused
the horses galloped and he lost the reigns 
sadly she was the only survivor.

she put an ad in the community hall
expressing her taste for an appealing date
she wrote about a possible marriage
but she wouldn’t go out in a horse and carriage
 a man showed up with a donkey and a sign
 ‘do not tailgate”

National Beer Day

Today’s a day to shout and cheer
And naturally, to have a beer
For it’s the day, across the land,
When Prohibition lost its stand.

We owe it all to F.D.R.
And whether you are in a bar,
At home or at a tailgate party,
Fill your glass and drink up hearty.

Let us toast to Franklin D.
For bringing joy to you and me.
So be it lager, I.P.A.
Or stout, let’s shout Hip Hip Hooray!

And savor every precious drop
Beginning with that foamy top
For fellow beer folk everywhere
Know nothing else can quite compare.

Road Rage

Road Rage
By: Tom Wright
8/2/2006

The latest phenomenon
Of “Britches” day and age,
Was his life’s first encounter?
With the tag Road Rage;

It had happened one night
Or was it early morning?
It began without inkling,
Thought, plan, or warning.

“Britches” couldn’t recall
If hour was early or late,
But someone weaving in traffic
Had become his tailgate.

When in his rear mirror
Appeared the tag name “Buck”,
 It was attached to the front
Of a primed monster truck;

Before long “Britches” sensed
He’d drawn this hunter’s ire,
For he was closing on his bumper
Like getting there first to a fire.

“Buck” had a gun in his rear window
And a dog box for a load,
“Britches” intently sought an off ramp
To exit that road;

Just when “Britches” thought
“Buck” will cook my goose,
He surmised that “Buck”
 Was just some red neck loose?

“Buck” suddenly sped ahead
And with a gesture but not word,
 Gave “Britches” his quarry,
 A single bird?

Winter's Teasing Silence

As I sit here
looking out into the cold,
all motion except the flow of sight 
seem to be frozen still; even the wind
appears to have blown into a rest stop.

All sounds—
the adversaries of silence—
seem to have gone into retreat;
leaving an eerie void in nature’s cold.

Suddenly,
the wind is frightened awake!
nature’s mood of death is no more;
as motions begin to tailgate the scene.

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