Hot Rod Poetry

[bob w]

I have a recent experience that has nothing to do with cars. But, it has left me confused.

Every morning I walk Pearl, the rescue Standard Poodle. A week ago it was no different. She sniffs in our ditch and often makes a deposit there. And so she did. Nothing unusual about this. However, on our returning from the walk there were five water bottles all laying together. Someone must have discarded the trash while driving by. Except they were arranged neatly. Upon closer inspection each one was about half full of a yellow liquid.

No closer inspection for me. I assume it was what you all are thinking. I left them there to be dealt with later.

The next morning the 5 bottles were still there but were joined by an empty glass beer bottle. Our neighborhood is very trash free and people do not litter. I was a bit irritated but didn't clean up. Frankly, I didn't want to touch the water bottles. My intention was to pierce them and let them drain out.

Well, the next morning the beer bottle was gone. Huh? Why?

Two days later three of the water bottles were gone?

This morning... all gone.

This whole situation raises a lot of questions.

How difficult is it to use a water bottle for this purpose?
Why save them up?
Why arrange them?
Dump them in broad daylight?
Who added the beer bottle?
Who picked them up?
Why a few at a time?

Anyhow, I'm glad they're gone and I can concentrate on painting the dragster frame.

[MercuryMac]

This is very cruel of you, -- to share all of these questions, --- and none of the answers.

[hansgoudzwaard]

Most things I recall has a dog in it. ;^)

[lazarat]

Bob..just now seeing this, perplexing for sure.

I also have the dog part, as I walk my dog at sun up. And yes it irks me to see the pile of bottles at one end of a culvert ditch, minus yellow fluids. which, because it is under the trees, is a great source of compost soil which I dig out for my planters.

Our street is very well cared for, as the owners here since the 20's have passed on their homes to their heirs, but in some places nearby its another story.

I pick up after my dog, so that pile there mr and mrs homeowner, is not mine...er...his.

But occasionally I see the animal feces, bottle or trash on my well kept lawn.

[smallfoot]

Hmmm, funny stuff Bob! Just yesterday I wandered over to my lot next door and found a can that had not been there the day before. I remember the can was one my daughter left in my refrigerator on her last visit. It was something I don't normally drink but I remember drinking it to try it. When I was through with it, I placed it in my trash can which has a lid and they are always kept closed. When I picked it up, I noticed a couple of small holes in it on one side and rolled the can over to find holes in the opposite side of the can too. Ok, mystery solved. An animal picked it up and moved it...thing is, how did it get it out of my trash can and also put the lid back on the trash can. Hmmm more mystery!

[bob w]

This thread has lain dormant for too long.
Have to spice it up with a poem or a song.
Tell us about the life you've had.
Be it happy or be it sad.
Make it rhyme.
If you have the time.
Or when the thought arose.
You can tell it in prose.
Tell us about a happy moment in your life.
Or an experience that caused you strife.
Or when you looked up at the stars.
And all the constellations looked like cars.
And you knew from that moment on.
That hot rods would always be number one.

[soltz]

bob w your good

[23crate]

quite often we find in the right frame of mind,
a puzzle presents itself to baffle the blind,
to those that see a solution to the mystery
thoughts in my head, its possibly me
while it sounds like a tortuous math problem
one id struggle with calculator and pen
right then the answer as far as i can see
its quite easy if one is adept musically
A lyrical soul with much beer in hand
and probably missing most of his band
would seem hes invented a game of his own
"passing" the beer while singing " 99 bottles of beer on the lawn... hahahahahhahhahaahahha

[23crate]

here you go BoB W its me again
your spice request has rattled my brain
ill tell my story embarrassing to say
ive finished only one build to this day.
it started when i was 2, in a late 30's dodge
who wouldve guessed Dad put it on two wheels
much to my delight , "do it again Dad" i squeal..
Who wouldve though late for a days fishing
could start interest in an engines 'missing'
from there my first car show around about five
fifty 3 years later i remember vaguely alive.
my very first car a 54 anglia, sold and made cash
the second a VW beetle custom baja, spent the cash
among many drivers a second chopped anglia-ford
sold that with its British Zephyr V6 , i was bored
Along came the Desoto, the a 54 Dodge
then divorce happened and i paid the price
after all that and back on my feet
i bought a dodge coupe sweet
then a dodge roadster pickup for fun
that morphed to an impossible roadster
now ive collected two Studebakers
both of them mordoors if you will
the 2nd will test my bodyman skill
see the problem i have you may want to know
is a two fold one where the finished thoughts grow.
is very easy for me to see many variants of a project
in the colors of my mind that i eventually reject
and move to the next feeling failure and regret
i really just want to finish something cool
a show stopper for me to enjoy, chopped channelled
in my mind ive bult so many car and trucks
but get so frustrated with myself - wont say that word
but im sure you will know what youve just not heard

sigh .. so i will try again tomorrow with stude number two
will try and remember one thing at a time project stude

[lazarat]

Bob, I read your prose and see what you are saying
To be honest I got a little tired of playing.
But now that I see this resurrected again
I guess it’s time to pick up my pen.

Crate nothing wrong doors that are four
Some cars look good with the extra door
Not shoe box fords or a chev that’s tri five,
But the suicide Studes look good and are cool to drive

So soon I will think with all of my might
And come up with something that I can write
A poem or a story I’ll pick up my pen
And scribble something I can post here again