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Poems On / About CAR  10/9/2015 12:19:19 AM
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Box Car Harry

The railroad dick looked straight at him, eyes unwavering, beady-eyed, menacing, and Harry counted his change to see if there was enough for a bribe; searched his thoughts for an escape route, but he was not as young as he used to be and the dick was young, legs like a deer.

He tussled Barney’s hair and said:

“Go there in that thar car and wait for me, got to dump the dick. Wait for my whistle.”
Barney looked up him hesitantly and Harry stammered hoarsely

“Go! ”

Barney scrambled on all fours the way Harry had taught him and quickly disappeared under cover of the dark Chicago night.

Always, the dick against the Bos, the rich against the poor was Harry’s thought, been that way since her was born, the wanders, the lose, the lose people on the road trying to find an odd job and a meal, against the railroad fat cats trying to exterminate the railroad people, who what was just trying to get by.

Harry held his breath and told himself to concentrate and finally turned back to the dick and showed himself, full on so as the dick could get a good look at him. The dick wide-eyed and incredulous stared hard at Harry surprised by the brazenness of the tramp and stood stock still for a moment, prey in the eyes of the predator.

Harry swayed a little left and then a little right like a running back taunting the linebacker, which way boy, am I going to bolt, which way is the question. Harry feinted a dash to the right and the dick crouched right ready for the chase, Harry smiled and then feinted to the left, testing the dick’s reflexes. The dick danced to the left enjoying the thrilling moment before the chase.

Harry guessed Barney had had time to secure himself in the car and then dashed straight toward the dick, who was thoroughly surprised and steeled himself for what he thought would be a crash between the two men. But Harry at the last minute slanted right allowing the dick to remain close behind but not enough to lay hand on him.

He headed for track 13 for the Great Northern line car.
The dick was breathing behind him; Harry could hear his labored breaths, close enough but not close enough to grab, what was what Harry wanted.

He hit the Northern line yard and saw number 13 looming. The dick was laughing behind him yelping with the sheer joy of it all, feeling he had Harry cornered because the Northern lot was a closed in one, a big wall in the back, a closed station and of course cars, most closed.

But Harry was aiming toward 13 and left up into the car and waited for the dick to catch up and see him. Harry looked down at the man’s heaving chest smiling his best Harry smile.

To be Continued
Lonnie Hicks

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Car Astrology

Car astrology
(or what's wrong with our cars and bodies is symptomatic
of spirit blocks)

aries: Brake problems from too much speeding, dead birds clogging
air intake
taurus: steering problems: likes to go 1 direction only
gemini: car stereo, radio, and cellphone distractions
cancer.. rear view mirrors too big.. looks back too much
leo.. fuel lines clogged with high cholesterol oil
virgo.. a cluttered car... can't let go of physical possessions
libra.. oil change needed.. resentment building from overaccomodation
of others
scorpio..exhaust pipe clogged (nonforgiveness)
sagittarius... radiator problems.. not enough of the waters of tact
capricorn... check axles.. knees of capricorn not always surrendered
to God's will
aquarius...took out the other car seats.. doesn't always want company
pisces... tires low.. depression from not letting go of hurt
no maps.. likes to go many directions at once
O Anna Niemus

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some days are easier, it won't make a sound in my thoughts, a faint tick lost in the waves.
but then there are other days; days where i succumb to it. drowning within the reality of what i am.

sometimes i just want to let myself fall, into the deepest pit of self pity. i'll feed off the dust lying on the ground, waiting for someone to break me out, take me in their arms, and love me.

i'm made up of tainted blood, a gift given at birth, marking me broken.

me and my best friend went out to eat today, at a cafe a few blocks from my apartment. we sat outside, our backs to the the gate separating our bodies from the frantic traffic behind us. we made awkward small talk about our lunch, attempted to create connections which we seemed to have trouble relating to. a reality set in by her new mindset towards me, her sympathy, her pity, all for me. she stuffs it down my throat, in large heaps, causing my insides to gag. we both smile, and take in a few seconds of silence, both searching throughout the scenery for more bits of small talk. cars pass by, lovers laugh loudly to themselves, as if inviting the entire city in on their conversation, yet closing the world out with their deep connections that only they could feel. clouds, birds, cars, fast cars, slow cars, dresses, red, white, green, blue, purple. the speakers outside the cafe changes songs, i can faintly hear a familiar tune falling out the speakers, a tune we both once loved. a burst of relief pops into my mouth as i suddenly break the silence.
i spoke too eagerly, small traces of saliva land on the back of her hand, i suddenly close my mouth, entering us into another sea of silence.

her hand jerks, an instant reaction, without thought, without feeling. she catches herself and looks at me, apologetically. her heart may be kind but her instincts remain, forcing her hand to pull away, as if my spit could somehow dig through her skin, tainting her blood with my sickness.

i looked at her for a moment, is this really you? or is this what i've become, triggered the second the doctor labeled me broken.

i know she didn't mean it, but i left anyway. she called after me, stood up from her chair and called after me a second time. she gave up after that and sat back down. i knew she would.

i locked myself in my apartment, and forced my eyes shut; begging my body to let me fall into a deep sleep.

they say that there's these monsters inside of me, and they won't let me live. they're tearing apart the fortresses that keep my heart beating, and she's left vulnerable. 'help me! somebody please! they're here! please, save me! DO SOMETHING! ' i can hear my heart screaming louder and louder, i cover my ears, i hold my breath. 'i can't help you. please, stop screaming.'
she continues, her screams muffled with blood. her words become watery, i can hear them covered with bubbles of air, escaping her terrorized being. she's dying.

i can feel it boiling, my blood. i need to cool down before my insides go aflame.
so i grab some tools, and unscrew my joints; my fingers, my wrists, my knees, my ankles, my neck.
i see them now, the little monsters hiding in my veins. i see them falling on the carpet, widening as they set within the fabrics. i'm still hot, everything is so hot. i open the window, and let the breeze cool me down. i can hear the cars driving past the streets, i can hear the birds flying, singing, the wind. i can hear it move the trees, they create a cool breeze, i like it when it hits my face. she's stopped screaming, she's silenced. i'm calm when she's quiet, it lets me think.
gabriella mendoza

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I Was Hit By A Car

I was hit by a car, I was completely numb,

I was hit by a car, I was stunned.

I was completely hollow,

I felt nothing inside, I was completely shallow.

I had no feeling, I could not speak,

I was frozen in time, like a mountain peak.

I could not even cry,

that's how I felt that day,

everything passed before me, like leaves falling away.

Like the spring wind that is bitter sweet,

this memory I forever will keep.

How sad I truly was for I could not cry,

I don't know why, I don't know why.

I was hit by a car just a few minutes before,

it was like a dagger it tore and tore,

into my soul it would leave a scar,

I had just been hit by a car it had run over my thumb.

I was hit by a car, I was completely numb.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 9,2011
Suzae Chevalier

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Poems On / About CAR