Forum Poem: Automobile

[TrippinBTM]

I had an idea for this forum, which I used to do on an AOL message board back in the day. What you do is, someone posts a topic, and everyone writes and posts a poem on that topic in the thread. Sort of a competition, but with no winners...or rather, no losers. Just a fun thing to do. Each new topic should get it's own thread, with the subject title written like this one.

I'll start it off with something easy: "automobile"

A Driving Nation

Mass produced, any color you want
As long as it's black
Black like the collective soul
Of a driving nation
Hop in your car, neighbor
And leave me in your dust, your exhaust
A mobile notion from ocean to ocean
Where mere motion replaces
Any and all purposeful action

Abandoned the community
The neighbors and friends
And the strangers in a pub
What time have we for idle conversation
When there's places to go
People to flee?
So we run to and fro
To everywhere and nowhere
But a bottomless pit of isolation

Who'd have thought it
A set of rubber wheels and a motor
A better division than any fence or wall

[VanAstral]

too far to walk, some
where there are wheels, there’s a road
trip all the way home


Chuck Berry knows where it's at...

Maybellene,
why can't you be true,
oh, Maybellene,
why can't you be true,
you've started back doin' the things you used to do.

As I was motivatin' over the hill,
I saw Maybellene in a Coup de Ville,
A Cadillac a-rollin' on an open road,
Nothin' will outrun my V-8 Ford,
The Cadillac doin' about Ninety Five,
She's bumper to bumper, rollin' side by side.

Maybellene,
why can't you be true,
oh, Maybellene,
why can't you be true,
you've started back doin' the things you used to do.

The Cadillac pulled up ahead of the Ford,
The Ford got hot, wouldn't do no more.
It then got cloudy and started to rain.
I tooted my horn for a passin' lane.
The rain water blowin' all under my hood,
I knew, that was doin' my motor good

Maybellene,
why can't you be true,
oh, Maybellene,
why can't you be true,
you've started back doin' the things you used to do.

The motor cooled down, the heat went down,
And that's when I heard that highway sound.
The Cadillac asittin' like a ton of lead,
A hundred an ten, half a mile ahead.
The Cadillac lookin' like it's sittin' still,
And I caught Maybellene at the top of the hill.

Maybellene,
why can't you be true,
oh, Maybellene,
why can't you be true,
you've started back doin' the things you used to do.





Encore, Chuck, encore!


My ding-a-ling

When I was a little bitty boy
my grandmother bought me a cute little toy
Silver bells hangin' on a string
she told me it was my ding a ling

My ding a ling, my ding a ling
I want to play with my ding a ling
My ding a ling, my ding a ling
I want to play with my ding a ling

And then mother took me to Grammer School
But I stopped all in the vestibule
Every time that bell would ring
catched me playin' with my ding a ling

Once I was climbing the garden wall
I slipped and had a terrible fall
I fell so hard I heard bells ring
but held on to my ding a ling

Once I was swimming cross Turtle creek
many snappers all around my feet
Shure was hard swimming cross that thing
with both hands holdin' my ding a ling

This here song it aint so sad
the cutest little song you ever had
those of you who will not sing
You must be playin' with your own ding a ling
My ding a ling

Your ding a ling, your ding a ling
We saw you playin' with your ding a ling
My ding a ling everybody sing
I want to play with my ding a ling

[dewbee]

what a complicated metaphor
you have invited into your life.
i am the hitcher,
and you the driver of your own fate;
your own
automobile.

say i know that there is a way
there is always the hollow to fill
the infrastructure is what
i call the system.
that's what it is.
insufficiencies
shall
be
corrected
in
time.

and so
you pick me up
for i am a hitcher
and you drive me where
we are both going
in
your
automobile.