Hot Rod Poetry

[bob w]

Thanks smallfoot.

[DozerII]

Some really great poems

[lazarat]

One of these days.

One of these days I will write a poem,
retired, I stay close to the home
Sometimes I'm here on the computer screen
sometimes I get up and do a house clean

with cats and hardwood there is lots of hair
so once a day I sweep my lair
but wait, whats that outside I see
is a ratty chevy from year 53

a 210 2 door sedan with V8
was never a car that was thought of as great
but now has the hot rod look of old school,
and many that see it think its cool

So I go out to car and tinker and mess
a lot of work, I must confess
while driving it makes noise plus a rumble
the souped 305 is not so humble

Not too fast, but fast enough
a great little cruiser, a little rough
shake rattle groan and squeak,
with a heart of gold, but not for the meek

so I take it to car shows, gets lots of attention
not many of these around I forgot to mention
I also take it to the local bar
Its a good thing from there I dont drive it too far

So not much now with house, cats and hair,
with those I still give some time and care
but the Chevy gets me to tinker and roam,
therefore no time to be writing this poem.

[Old Iron]

[bob w]

That's really good, lazarat. Thank you for posting.
I wish we were going to Florida this winter so we could get together. Would like to see smallfoot too. And that guy in Orlando.

[lazarat]

Originally Posted by bob w

That's really good, lazarat. Thank you for posting.
I wish we were going to Florida this winter so we could get together. Would like to see smallfoot too. And that guy in Orlando.

Thanks and yea, lots going on in the cooler weather here, hope you make it.

[bob w]

Here I sit all forgotten.
My tires and top are completely rotten.

I was very popular in my day.
Now I'm covered with straw and hay.

I'm a 3 window coupe not a chicken coop.
Even though I'm bespeckled with chicken poop.

Farmer backed a plow into my door.
You should see what rat pee did to my floor.

My seats were of fine grey mohair.
Have been turned into a mouse's lair.

Countless baby meeses.
Have nibbled it to pieces.

I'm deathly afraid of wiggly snakes.
A family of rattlers is wrapped round my brakes.

Used to have a lot of class.
Now there's bullet holes in my glass.

I'd get out of here if I was able.
Guess I'm stuck forever in this stable.

The young feller that did all the work.
Sold me to an idiot, a bonified jerk.

I was so pretty in green metalflake.
At the local drive-in I'd take the cake.

All the girls would gather around.
To listen to my mellow flathead sound.

Oh what joy we had, that boy and me!
'Til he went off to some foreign sea.

The new boy, he was so rich.
But he didn't have that Hot Rod itch.

He drove me so hard that I would boil.
Didn't even know how to check the oil.

I learned to hate that nasty boy.
To him I was just a meaningless toy.

To be used, abused and thrown away.
That's how I ended up in this pile of hay.

One day we were going way too fast.
I knew my engine wasn't going to last.

The oil gauge was mighty low.
Any minute my motor could blow.

He stuck it in second, I revved to the moon.
The connecting rods would come out soon.

I slowed down and rounded a curve.
I slid in my own oil and began to swerve.

A ditch, a fence, a big old tree.
Is this my fate? Woe is me!

I jumped the ditch, under the fence I flew.
But the gnarly oak tree would break me in two.

Up on two wheels I did a pirouette.
I'm sure Nasty Boy's shorts were good and wet.

Out of the door the rich boy fell.
Rolled over a rock and into a well.

He came out of that well mad as a wet hen.
I knew it was curtains for me right there and then.

That was the story of what happened that night.
And why I find myself in this dismal plight.

At daybreak the rooster does crow.
Through the opening barn door the sun's rays do show.

In limps a greybeard with a patch on one eye.
He digs through the hay, is he starting to cry?

He sees me, I know him, I know he knows me.
There's a smile with the tears, he's filled with glee.

The handy young boy from 50 years yore.
Has found me, will save me, I'll shine once more.
And we'll be together for ever...more...

[MercuryMac]

That old car is sure a good story teller.
Right Bob.

[lazarat]

Its fun turning old stories into poems, great stuff!

[soltz]

bob.w WOW!! That is great work Almost brought a tear