Hot Rod Poetry

[forbigpicture]

Good one bobw....

[bob w]

On Turning 81

Well, a new year has just begun.
In his year I'll be turning 81.

After 80 years, Life's Lottery I have won.
And I did it without a Man Bun.

Another poem I'd like to try.
I'm afraid the creative juices have run dry.

What will cause a new spark?
And lead me out of the dark?

Artists use drugs for inspiration.
I eat beans for flatulation.

It really doesn't help me think.
But it makes the world around me stink.

For this old man drugs are too risky.
Maybe just a shot of whiskey.

Or better yet I'll go in the shop.
Take along some soda pop.

I know that waiting out there for me.
Is a project, or two, or three.

So I put on my "dirty clothes".
Wife won't wash 'em, gotta use the hose.

In the shop turn on classic rock radio.
Time to get started, get on with the show.

Over on the bench, there's pieces clamped down tight.
Waiting from the previous night.

The magic I'm about to feel.
Is the miracle of welding steel.

What awesome work! What awesome fun!
Welding pieces together, making them one.

Fabbing a bracket of my own design.
Welding, grinding, sanding, it will be so fine.

Making sure it fits just right.
In that space that is very tight.

It's a good piece, like all the rest.
Not many will see it, but I did my best.

I think about when I could be driving.
Toward that end, I'm not really striving.

For building is my hot rod fascination.
It's the journey that's fun, not the destination.

[Couper]

I turned on the computer to see what my new friends had to share...
And you can only imagine how I felt when my screen was bare....

No words of encouragement and no pictures to see....
Just a silly error message about missing tokens for me.....

At that very moment I felt so alone....
I ran out to the garage to find my phone...
Much to my dismay there was no dial tone....

I spun around only to find the 40 I've worked so hard on was gone.....

Thank god the alarm clock rang, and the music came on...
My pit bull licked my face and said....it was a just dream dad, but you left the welder on.

I shuffled to my computer and hit the switch...
Holy cow the message was gone...
Everyone was here along with the pictures of that dusty car in the barn!

Dat's my story....and I'm sticking to it

[Couper]

Originally Posted by bob w

On Turning 81

Well, a new year has just begun.
In his year I'll be turning 81.

After 80 years, Life's Lottery I have won.
And I did it without a Man Bun.

Another poem I'd like to try.
I'm afraid the creative juices have run dry.

What will cause a new spark?
And lead me out of the dark?

Artists use drugs for inspiration.
I eat beans for flatulation.

It really doesn't help me think.
But it makes the world around me stink.

For this old man drugs are too risky.
Maybe just a shot of whiskey.

Or better yet I'll go in the shop.
Take along some soda pop.

I know that waiting out there for me.
Is a project, or two, or three.

So I put on my "dirty clothes".
Wife won't wash 'em, gotta use the hose.

In the shop turn on classic rock radio.
Time to get started, get on with the show.

Over on the bench, there's pieces clamped down tight.
Waiting from the previous night.

The magic I'm about to feel.
Is the miracle of welding steel.

What awesome work! What awesome fun!
Welding pieces together, making them one.

Fabbing a bracket of my own design.
Welding, grinding, sanding, it will be so fine.

Making sure it fits just right.
In that space that is very tight.

It's a good piece, like all the rest.
Not many will see it, but I did my best.

I think about when I could be driving.
Toward that end, I'm not really striving.

For building is my hot rod fascination.
It's the journey that's fun, not the destination.

Well done!

[MercuryMac]

Guys, , add my applause here. Who'd a thunk it, this poetry thing has taken right off. Good for you.

[bob w]

Thank you to all the viewers and to Couper who just joined in. Much appreciated. A big thank you to all the other UDS poets that made this thread a success. Who would have thought there would be 31,000 views for amateur hot rod poetry.

[Couper]

[MercuryMac]

Saskatoon Project

With the truck and trailer, I headed out
And Sheesh, a long, long ways from home.
There was a project for sale in Saskatoon,
And I’d talked to the seller on the phone.

I’d phoned him again at the overpass
On main street, he told me where to go.
After turning and zigging and zagging,
I found his house, I’ll tell ya how I know.

There on the drive sat a shoebox Ford,
A roller, with part of the body work done.
I fell in love with this partly done coupe
As I walked from my truck, dreaming of fun.

After a long look, I met with the guy
shook hands and listened to his spiel.
He knew from the start when I grinned
That I’d give him cash and take the deal.

I jackknifed the trailer onto his drive,
And winched the rolling coupe on deck.
I tied her down with chunks of chain,
So there would be no worry of a wreck.

I reversed my route and proudly drove
back through the streets that afternoon,
And pretty soon my rearview mirror,
Showed the receding city, Saskatoon.

I drempt the dreams of building cars
And drove north and west, like mad.
After six hours I was halfway home
And needed to eat and sleep really bad.

After a good big breakfast in that town,
I proudly drempt and drove north and west.
Without an incident ‘til I made it home,
The trip was really good, one of the best.

I backed the trailer up to the shop door
And rolled the Ford shoebox coupe inside.
And many years later; I haven’t done a thing
To the car that caused those dreams and pride.

[DozerII]

You guys are great poets. Happy Birthday Bob

[Couper]

Outstanding Merc!