Car Poems

Popular Car Poems
In The Naked Bed, In Plato's Cave
by Delmore Schwartz

In the naked bed, in Plato's cave,
Reflected headlights slowly slid the wall,
Carpenters hammered under the shaded window,
Wind troubled the window curtains all night long,
A fleet of trucks strained uphill, grinding,
Their freights covered, as usual.
The ceiling lightened again, the slanting diagram
Slid slowly forth.
Hearing the milkman's clop,
his striving up the stair, the bottle's chink,

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The Far Field
by Theodore Roethke

I

I dream of journeys repeatedly:
Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel
Of driving alone, without luggage, out a long peninsula,
The road lined with snow-laden second growth,
A fine dry snow ticking the windshield,
Alternate snow and sleet, no on-coming traffic,
And no lights behind, in the blurred side-mirror,
The road changing from glazed tarface to a rubble of stone,

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Men Of The High North
by Robert William Service

Men of the High North, the wild sky is blazing;
Islands of opal float on silver seas;
Swift splendors kindle, barbaric, amazing;
Pale ports of amber, golden argosies.
Ringed all around us the proud peaks are glowing;
Fierce chiefs in council, their wigwam the sky;
Far, far below us the big Yukon flowing,
Like threaded quicksilver, gleams to the eye.

Men of the High North, you who have known it;

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Stay In School
by Leon Thomas Lee

Stay in school, don't be a fool
A dropout gets left out
A dropout gets pushed out
Show me your name, what does it mean
Show me your ring, you're in the scene
Without an education there is no beginning
With education you are winning
Stay in school, student maintain your cool
It's so hard to get a job now days
Without education just be on your way

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Bring It Over
by Abner Fats

Hello there Fred and how are you? I see you've bought a coat.
Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll feed it to my goat.
Hello there Earl and how are you? I see you've bought a car.
Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll smear it with some tar.
Hello Mrs. Bates and how are you? I see you've won a moose.
Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll let it chase my goose.
Hello there Herb and how are you? I see you've bought an ox.
Bring it over after six o'clock and I'll let it wear my socks.
Hello there Bob and how are you? I see you've bought a shirt.
Bring it over after six o'clock, if it goes good with your skirt.

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Recent Car Poems
Sestina with Six Random Words
by Alexander Wolff

I was bragging to my friend Hadleigh that I slept with a model
named Jesse. As I drove back home, the insurance
company called, telling me I was an uninsured motorist.
It didn’t surprise me, for I had pledged
to stop using insurance, believing it a scam designed
by Sam. Although, this was only the first in the series

of events that night. It was late October — the start of the World Series.
On the radio, Hendrick’s Autos flaunted their makes and models.
Dusk danced across the sky, decaying, as if it were a prismatic design

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Your Car Sucks!
by Randy Johnson

You've designed a new electric car and it's being built on the assembly line.
You've been pestering me to buy one but I never will, one of your cars will never be mine.
You want me to buy one but I'm going to pass.
Your car sucks and you can shove it up your ass.
It takes fourteen hours to charge it and it can only be driven for thirty minutes.
Your car is a joke and when it comes to one of them, you'll never see me in it.
If I couldn't design a better car than yours, I'd give up and quit.
I will never buy one of your cars because they are pieces of shit.

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At Night
by Sara Teasdale

We are apart; the city grows quiet between us,
She hushes herself, for midnight makes heavy her eyes,
The tangle of traffic is ended, the cars are empty,
Five streets divide us, and on them the moonlight lies.

Oh are you asleep, or lying awake, my lover?
Open your dreams to my love and your heart to my words.
I send you my thoughts--the air between us is laden,
My thoughts fly in at your window, a flock of wild birds.

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In The Train
by Sara Teasdale

Fields beneath a quilt of snow
From which the rocks and stubble sleep,
And in the west a shy white star
That shivers as it wakes from deep.

The restless rumble of the train,
The drowsy people in the car,
Steel blue twilight in the world,
And in my heart a timid star.

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The Old Maid
by Sara Teasdale

I saw her in a Broadway car,
The woman I might grow to be;
I felt my lover look at her
And then turn suddenly to me.

Her hair was dull and drew no light
And yet its color was as mine;
Her eyes were strangely like my eyes
Tho' love had never made them shine.


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