Trucker Poems

Unlucky Trucker

A man with very bad luck
Purchased a lemon of a truck
It broke down on a date
The woman walked away
So in despair he failed in love

I Should Have Chased That Brother Trucker

My friend Dawn always trash talks in a mean way
To hear her you would think she is the world’s largest bully.
All of this fierceness is blatant fabrication on speed.
She is one who cannot do confrontation.
Except on the phone in a braggadocio way.

That brother trucker! She says. I should have followed him.
I should have bumped his white Chevy truck with my car.
I should have….
I smile, picturing her contorted ninety-six-year-old face.
I should have…..

I ordered a metal bat, she told me.
It will be here tomorrow.
I smile at this too.
The last twelve things she has ordered on line
She has returned, totally dissatisfied.

Wise Long Haul Trucker

She is a long-haul trucker, traveling the open road.
Rough and tough as she has to be but no more than.
Her children are at home with her husband, stay-at-home-dad.
Why do you do it? People ask her.
Have you ever been at home with sixteen children? She replies.
The school teachers understand instantly.
The other mothers, not so much.

Work: Trucker

The colossal terrific moves by itself, 
Rolls to its own beating drum, 
Through every port in this miniature town, 
Onto the road to become,

A tequila of truth carrying cages of crates, 
Moves them to a new shop on the hill,
To unstrap and vacate then lock up the doors, 
And return to the base to refill,

Detergent, dog food, CBM Toxic 8, 
Stickers smacked all over the back,
Warning signs to watch out, to stay far away, 
Warning signs that are written in black,

Every day he wakes up, brushes his teeth, 
Farewell to last nights darkest dusk, 
And slides into the cabin bigger than big, 
To start work in his magnificent truck.

Musings of a Macho Trucker

I’m a long-legged guy,
A macho man, if you will,
Tho still I fell for Little Blue Eyes,
When on the highway I was drawn
Into a Little Town church,
To give thanks for spared hurts
And wrecks when a truck driver drives.

There I met a tiny little girl that made my world,
As real as the road singing songs.
She made my ham and eggs,
And filled brown lunch bags with love--
And prayed.

The years went by and 
When I was gone,
She studied and prayed and
Made us a home.

Now I’ve hung up the trucker’s gloves,
And hold her bare hands, giving my love
To the studies that made her a preacher.
She serves the Lord and I serve her,
Those blue eyes watch her man hear her sermons

For her tiny body holds a heart
Big enough for the both of us,
God and the mellowed macho man.

Little Trucker

Little Trucker

Little trucker in your little truck,
rolling down the road with a little luck.

Chicken fried steak, napkin on the floor.
Pulling your pants up as you exit the door.

Pull out of the truck stop, another load picked up.
Heading to Little Rock with a 100,000 Styrofoam cups

Lights at night, blur with the lines.
300 more miles according to the sign.

Glow of the panel keeps company with you.
Song of the wheels can make you feel blue.

Alone on the road, it looks the same.
telephone lines, occasional train

Pulling over, as required by law.
A few Z's caught, that’s about all.

Another load, another town,
another drink, another round.

Twenty years of roads come and gone.
One day, you tell yourself, you'll move on.

But you never did, you never will.
Worst thing for you little trucker, 
is just standing still.

daniel- 5/2013

The Trucker

Miles of roads while blowing horns 
tiresome bodies their eyes are sore,
Trying to reach a rest stop to avoid 
a jackknifed load.

Hauling the necessities to survive in this world, 
whether it's Gas, Food or Motor oil.

Driving a semi the juggernaut of the road 
maneuvering in all conditions even the blistering cold. 

Away from Friends and Families away from their homes 
Holidays and private events are void they're  all alone.

A hard grip of the wheel avoiding reckless drivers 
swerving in to unforseen  debris blowing out tires.

A grueling shift comes to an end locking up the Trailer, 
Arriving to the sanity of their homes ready to retire.™©

By: Shawn Munoz

Long Distance Trucker

Insipid blend of lemon tea
Murky depths unsweetened
In a grubby cup with a dull grey glaze
Cracked rim invisible in the haze
Of an all night cafe on the road.

Love, Your Lonely Trucker Wife

Another night alone
Because the road is all you know.
Carry my heart with you please
Do with it what you will.
Every moment that you are gone
Fear consumes my soul.
Giving me reason to feel this cold
How hard to live this lonesome life.
I've given you all of me
Just to watch your tired eyes
Kill my ounce of hope.
Living this life has grown so old
My mind understands 
Never will my heart.
Of all the things in the world
Pulling that load hurts me the most.
Questions flutter across the room 
Regrets unspoken and how they consume.
Struggling to survive day to day
Torn to nothing
Unaware and ashamed.
Vigorously searching for what is unknown
Warmth of your touch is all I long for.
Xanthic flesh from our years
Zealous no more from these tears.

Trucker Joe's Lament

He lost his job, now drives a rig.
The pros are small; the cons are big.
A sleeper cab is his abode
on tedious and lonesome road.

In Old West days, a steed he’d mount;
now yellow lines he cannot count.
A steady stream, long have they flowed
on tedious and lonesome road.

A ribbon flat, it sometimes winds,
descends or climbs until he finds
it’s all one constant episode
on tedious and lonesome road.

By some he’s loathed along the path.
For taking space, he’s shown their wrath.
Sparse traffic lessens not his load
on tedious and lonesome road.

He drives and while he drives, he yearns
for life’s return; his stomach churns.
He knows his hope but can erode
on tedious and lonesome road.

For the Solitude Contest of scott thirtyseven 

(Some truck drivers have a very hard and lonely life and it's even worse 
when they work for companies that couldn't care less about their welfare)

Soul of a Trucker

The ever present sound of a 
diesel
Going through its gears
Is the steady beat and constant 
rhythm
He’s known for many a year
And it’s the lullaby that late at 
night
His mind still longs to hear
He still can see those highways 
With his inner eye
He can’t forget the visions 
Of those unpolluted skies
He still can feel the wind
And hear its tender sighs
Those memories stay inside 
and linger
And will until he dies
They’re part of what he’s made 
of
They’re forged into his soul
They come from years of 
truckin’
And they’re what have made 
him whole 

©Annette Keller
11/1997

Mother Trucker

She’s got a few children still living at home.
Each day in this big rig, on the roads she has to roam.
The woman has to earn a steady income each day.
She has been on her own since the old man went away.
What good was he?  She didn’t need him anyway.

Breaker one-nine, little darling, have your ears on?
I hope you are still out there and not gone.
What is your ten-twenty?  Are you just a little down the road?
You’re bound for Savannah?  That’s a long way to tote a load.
Smokey’s in a plain wrapper here on I-95.
He’s looking for anyone doing better than sixty-five.
I knew you were out there!  Mercy sakes alive!

Trucker

they carrie a load
could be gold
am told
theyer bold
or hard working
soul
some time sucker
thoses
TRUCKER

A Lament For Trucker Joe

While driving on that tedious long road,
he feels forlorn. The road goes on and on.
He hates this job. All hope seems to erode.
The old life he enjoyed is all but gone.

He feels forlorn; the road goes on and on.
At times he meets with traffic jams, a mess!
The old life he enjoyed is all but gone.
He faces thanklessness, fatigue and stress.

At times he meets with traffic jams, a mess!
His life is harder than it’s ever been.
He faces thanklessness, fatigue and stress.
The job he lost he dreams to have again.

His life is harder than it’s ever been.
He hates his job; all hope seems to erode.
The job he lost he dreams to have again
while driving on that tedious long road.


For Paula Swanson's Pantoum Contest

Trucker

they carry a load
on the road
they eat 
and sleep
at a truck  stop
pull out a cot
in parking lot
some or sucker
theyer
TRUCKER

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