Tires Poems

Square Tires

What if all our tires were square?
Well, we couldn't go here or there!
We couldn't go, well, anywhere!
If our tires were square...
We'd walk everywhere!
There wouldn't be much pollution in the air!
Airplanes couldn't take off anymore!
We'd go back in time, to the dinosaurs!
If tires were square....
We'd sail everywhere!
Circle shaped tires wouldn't be found.
Now, I am glad my tires are round.

Kicking Tires

Kicking Tires

So that is next year’s model, is it now?
The vintage being deftly moved aside.
I feel oddly sorry for them both, and how
Her sleekness won’t survive the filthy ride.

The vintage is deftly moved aside,
the owner seeks his youth in pristine sheen
Her sleekness won’t survive the filthy ride.
I was once the starlet in this scene.

The owner, seeking youth in pristine sheen
his hand on one, his eyes upon the next;
the vintage and the fresh, both rides I’ve been.
I feel oddly sorry for them, vexed.

His hand drops down, his eyes are on the next;
the Classic with her charm and Botox tried.
I feel oddly sorry for her, vexed.
Her perch, always precarious, slides.

The Classic with her charm and Botox tried
She meets my eyes, and casts her gaze askance
unsupported on that perch, she starts to slide
the modern model starts a slow advance.

She meets my eyes, and casts her gaze askance
I feel oddly sorry for them both, and how
the modern model starts the slow advance...
So, this is next year’s model, is it now?

First Check the Car Tires

The car's engine Fred often fires.
He. simply, first checks the car's tires
And off moves, tires spitting fires:
Tubular rollers end up criers;
Traffic wardens with their "Stop!" liars:
Fred at what he loves never tires!

The strength Free Fred uses he hires
From booze and kola sold by Mires...

After three months Fred's Benz for buyers!
Often worse than cars long in mires.

Mediocre We Must Not Flatter

Mediocre we need not flatter
With laurels on a cheap platter:
Hero’s Effort make a matter;
A dropped metal’s heavy clatter…

“What is right” we foully batter
And Future Foundation scatter,
When save we just can The Latter 
And ensure True Victory later…

Mediocre we must not flatter:
On our clothes staining mud spatter;
Problems feed and they are fatter,
Tires allowed to be flatter...

Don’t forget FIFA’s Staunch Blatter;
No Cups to have on a platter.

Bonfire of the Tires

Someone built a blazing bonfire out of tires
At the crest of the hill between the villages,
And we have come here to ride our sleds
The mile and a half to the bottom of old 60,
On the solid sheet of ice over packed snow
Two trips down and up, and we are frozen,
Our noses red, our eyelashes icy tingling,
And we can no longer feel our toes…but,
It is all worth it, and we will long remember
When someone built a bonfire out of tires.

written November 29, 2021

Mind-Body Tires

Mind-body tires, causing stupor
Why then overwork mind
Make unending playful caper
Free from desires that bind

Awareness unbroken
Needs ego forsaken
That we now awaken

Heart bliss aspires
Mind-body tires

07-September-2021
Quietus

Substandard Tires

Substandard Tires
The customer rants and raves at me saying it’s all my fault
And my colleague’s and my employer that he’s got no family
He threatens all of us with court and is off to see the judge
You’ll be in the dock all together he warns for murder
Treating me like I’m the CEO and God of ACME Tires
I just answer the phone and reply to emails
I never made the substandard tires on his car
That failed and killed his daughter wife and sister
He rants and raves and it lasts an hour
All recorded he states finally stopping
If I was employed by the Illuminati 
Making cups of tea would he sue me?
For not making his tea sweet enough
Now I nod and say what an arsehole
I’m so glad he can hear me
His tires will soon fail…

Tires and Ropes For Swings

My bug out bag would include my grandchildren.
It would have to be large, because I have ten.
My cat and dog would go in and my wild raccoons.
They count on me for their food right?

My husband could stay home.
I have had him so long we are redundant.
We can watch eight hours of TV
And laugh at only the same things

And say the same words
For the entire time, and only these words.
I would take a jug of red grapefruit juice,
and a five tires and a large bundle of rope.

Matches for a bon fire.
Wait! I am taking the cat out.
She is ordering the children about again.
Making one cry.

The dog gets to go; she is laid back.
Is that a rat? Who brought that?
Okay. If it has a name,
How can I say no to a pet?

From Tires To Travel

FROM TIRES TO TRAVEL

There I stood all by myself,
Looked at tires there on the shelf.
They put them on the cars each day;
I watched as people drove away.
Then one day I said aloud,
“Of all this, Lord, I’ve been so proud,
But now I give you all today,”
And from those tires I walked away.
Yet really when I left that place,
I felt much more of God’s great grace.
He saw me through great times of stress,
In everything He knew the best.
The tires I once kept in that place
Now on my car the roads they’ve traced
With travel all around this land,
Preaching God’s word with simple plan.
I’m over seventy now, I know,
But I will still continue to go
Until the Lord says, “Come home, John,
And see My place to drive upon!
This one you’ve preached across the land—
America, England, and Japan,
Come to see My great reward
Forever here now with your Lord.”
From tires to travel He has led
And many hungry souls you’ve fed.
Though I’m just one of those you know,
I’m glad you heard God’s call to go
And left that shop with all its tires
To serve the Lord in a calling higher.

Dedicated to a dear evangelist friend.

Werewolves and Burning Tires

when life is running just fine
purring like a cat, in its prime
some night under a full moon
a werewolf craps on your silver spoon
turns your heart into a burning tire

Tires Straight

On my 60" HD TV.
I saw a ragged child with a sunburst smile.
Wearing a patchy blue dress
more dirt than fabric on it.
For fun she was rolling a bent bike tire.
With a thin stick down a dog-eared road.
Somehow, she kept the ancient tire rolling straight.
She kept the tire on the straight.

Africa's Square Tires

In Africa since the 1960s
Africans have been driven
in vehicles with square tires
whose drivers sit and steer
behind square brake-less wheels

January to January vehicles
jerk and jolt all the  way
passengers scream and shout
hardly enjoying  the ride
on rough and pot-holed roads

Most times passengers
leave the seats and kneel
they pray and pray and pray
to the  Al-merciful God
for journey mercies to all

No one has reached destination
few have had dreams fulfilled
some passengers jump off
as vehicles jerk their way non-stop
without surgeons causalities die

But fate has its own ways
unless the vehicles crash
until bye-standers run and grab 
the square-tired vehicles
no safety  for  the passengers

Yellow Tires On the Grass

"YELLOW TIRES ON THE GRASS"



in the hours 
before the hour
the grass is cut.
the cars pass 
from left to 
right, the cigarette 
stays hot until 
the end. traffic 
jam on the 
99 denied another 
given another. dirty 
clothes are made 
clean the pizza 
is on its 
way.



By: Chicano Eddie
10-26-2016

Tired Tires

"We're all vehicles cruising down a road
Fresh quadruplets screwed on, 
One for each corner

At first, the tires friction if sharp
Brighter than a sun in July
Gas on the same roads we took yesterday

The hills stay the same, 
Routes never change
Overtime, the road can scrape up the tires

Every heartbreak, every tear shed, 
They're just more friction and rocks,
Added onto the gravel road

Overtime, we all become worn like tires
What some people don't realize,
We need a break to trade our tires in,
For a refreshment to start a smoother ride"

Grandma Phoned

I have loved him since I was young.
Through every cloud, he rose the sun.
His work was honest – one-on-one with land.
I loved this farmer and his callused hands!
Safe, strong arms would lift me to sit upon his tractor.
Picture boy and Grandpa - no memory could be happier.

Today, I took the inherited watch from my mantle.
Now the cherished timepiece accompanies my flight,
perhaps lending faith to my emotional plight.
Precious ticking in my pocket comforts my destination;
brings forth his presence and I will not try to stop it
for the watch soothes my driving desperation.

Steering, my feelings begin actively conceiving 
wings in golden display soaring my car this day
thru prayer-filled air to timely see me there.
So many endless miles of thunder under my wheels.
Thoughts ever somber tumble various appeals.
I gasp down feelings he may leave before I show.
He stays in my heart’s eye while I consume highway
on burning, dedicated tires determined to fly
'cause Grandma phoned to say, Grandpa would soon die.

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