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Poems On / About CAR  4/21/2015 4:47:22 AM
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  237.     

The Oncoming

The Oncoming
On the wall in my room a temporary sunlight,
valiantly struggles with a shadow, or perhaps
they are dancing a slow waltz: see a tiny bust
of Johann Straus on the bookshelf, who spent
the last ten years of his life moving from town
to town in hope of escaping death.
I look out of the window, a river of cars and
a bank, outside it an expensive car is illegally
parked, a patrol car slows but doesn΄t stop as
the car oozes economic power; stops instead
near a cyclist, an officer tells him to use the road
and not the pavement.
Waltz is over and rough sea slams against
the porthole, I must have been dreaming or is it
my past and future that dance macabre?
 
oskar hansen

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  238.     

The Unsaid

The Unspoken

The old man stopped his battered car at
a beauty spot’s parking lot, divorced and
his possessions now were cloths in
a shopping bag and his old car.
It was early Monday morning, but some
middle class fool, on his way to work,
had seen him and called the police,
(lone men are often called tramps and have few rights)
a patrol car came and an officer told him to move on;
the old man sighed and without irony said:
“It’s a wonderful world.”
The officer, who had kind eyes, looked
surprised, but nodded in agreement.
The old man drove off.
And as the worn out car disappeared
into the new day,
it struck the officer that he had seen his own future.
 
oskar hansen

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  239.     

The Colour Of Cars

Cars parked in metallic rows
Like words stacked up in prose
But only blacks and reds and greys
Not many colours to choose from nowadays
No greens or blues or yellows
Or stark, garish or outlandish fellows

Who would have thought say ten years back
That a popular colour would be black
That I could write into this verse
That most cars would resemble a hearse

I wonder what the trend will be ten years hence
Maybe cars painted with Cuprinol just like a fence
Or maybe there will be some other types
Painted in polka dots, stars or toothpastey stripes

Whatever the trend it should hold true
That people will still pick their favourite hue
And adorn their cars be they Honda or Ford
With stickers that say ' Beware - Baby Aboard'
 
Paul Gerard Reed

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  240.     

The Dark Memories Of Our Fading Childhood

When rich boys get down
from their parent's luxury cars
My courageous Mom takes us
to school in a public bus.
Remember once she said humbly;
'Do not worry my dear sons
study well and one day
I can see you all take me a round trip
in your cars with the fiancees.'
Yes dear Mom!
I have my tumbledown car
and whenever I go out
with my beloved wife
I check in the mirror
and I see you're sitting behind
with a smile, and I look back
It's only an illusion
and you're not seen
We two only in the car
at the jouney's end?

[My mother had a slender, small body, but a large heart-a heart so large that everybody's griefs and everybody's joys found welcome in it, and hospitable accomodation.]-Samuel Clemens


nimal dunuhinga
 
nimal dunuhinga

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Poems On / About CAR