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Best Poems About / On CAR
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157.
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My Time is Up
My hearts beating
My vein's throbbing
Is it my time
Is my time up
I'm in the car
The car is screaking
Is it my time
Is my time up
The other car is trying to stop
What's wrong with his brakes?
Is it my time
Is my time up
The car slams into me
I see a light
Is it my time
Is my time up
I hear people around me
Doctors? Passengers? God?
Wasn't it my time
Wasn't my time up
They were doctors
And I was in a hospital
It isn't my time
My time isn't up
Tierra Bradley
Tierra Bradley
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158.
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A Crash In The Night
Waking up at night to the sound of panic in my mother's voice.
She's says stuff to herself, something about her car, and then I hear the door open and close.
I lay in bed silent as the night, thinking of what happened.
I then hear the sound of police and ambulance vehicles.
I get up to go to the blinds and see the orange-reddish flames eat the back of a SUV.
I go downstairs with my brother deciding whether or not if we should go outside.
Then my mother comes in and we all go outside into the cold.
We go to a corner and watch, there's nothing we can do.
They pull three men from the other car; they crashed into my mother's car.
Everyone around is asking what happened.
I think to myself that car is gone.
How will we get another one?
4/9/12
Stephanie Pozzie
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159.
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Cherry Cola
With you hand out the window,
sipping on Cherry Cola.
Man, I despise you.
Your beating on the dashboard,
flashing off your black tatoo,
Man, i idolize you.
There you are puffing away on your white king ciggarettes,
rolling down your window and spitting at the car beside you.
Im riding in a car,
with a canadian rockstar,
kiddo, do you want one puff?
do you want another sip?
Your 32 and wasted,
and i'm still trying to astound you.
cause I'm riding in a car,
with a canadian rockstar.
Theres cuts and scars on your arms,
in pretty little patterns.
your staring in the review mirrow,
And i'm blushing in your smoke.
It's way past my bed time, & mom thinks im home,
But stuff it man,
Im riding in a car,
with one screwed canadian rockstar.
elena Velinsky
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160.
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Chagrined Nights At Alexandrite Street
At Alexandrite Street,
The nights were
No different
Than those
Stretches of time
That carried the
Tarnished names
Of dead exploits.
I cant remember
A forked road,
But what I remember
Is a fractured woman
Underneath an
Even more fractured night.
Even the forked roads
Are empty
The cars scattered
All across the streets -
Unmanned,
Covered with darkness.
I see myself
Burning inside
All of the automobiles
Simultaneously.
From going to Alexandrite
And leaving,
I have never
Felt as vacuous
As an empty box
Of silken things.
I grew jealous
Of the cars
That had company -
Each car sat idly
Next or behind
The other
Its like a caravan of
Sleeping children.
I had no one there
As I walked out
Of the perdition.
The guard saluted
Me with derision -
I felt more and more
Alone
And the cars gave
Hoarse laughs
As I left.
Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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