"datsun" poems - Hello Poetry

flaccid pacifists symbolizing sexism single-mindedly corrupting hostile youth ruining bullying and facilitating inbreeding through top-down initiatives laced with bath salts the pussify-ing of America has begun – tear soaked cheeks distort with rage at the blatant separatist ideals propagated creating not one nation under rule of law, but many angry independent states bent on torture laws and privatized prison for profit shareholders holding gavels and lives in an unjust system of justification ……they deserve this – broken-hearted mothers line razor-wire fences defenseless against the tyrannical bureaucracy beholden to the loved one wrongly incarcerated banging bloodied fists against walls that hear no cries, defeated, they slip into damaged Datsun’s disappearing freeway anonymity is the course of the day –

0

May 14, 2015

May 14, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC

s-lyman-temple

garbage to the "nth"

flaccid pacifists symbolizing sexism single-mindedly corrupting hostile youth ruining bullying and facilitating inbreeding through top-down initiatives laced with bath salts the pussify-ing of America has begun – tear soaked cheeks distort with rage at the blatant separatist ideals propagated creating not one nation under rule of law, but many angry independent states bent on torture laws and privatized prison for profit shareholders holding gavels and lives in an unjust system of justification ……they deserve this – broken-hearted mothers line razor-wire fences defenseless against the tyrannical bureaucracy beholden to the loved one wrongly incarcerated banging bloodied fists against walls that hear no cries, defeated, they slip into damaged Datsun’s disappearing freeway anonymity is the course of the day –

19

First the signs and then the noise - Insistent, honking, grinning boys Announcing City snow-ploughs What's this raucous clarion call, This four-note trumpet klaxon? It's the boys who tell the world To move its Ford, Corvette or Datsun. A snowfull truck on squeaky chains Creaks off to dump its ***** crystal load. And four more trucks parked right behind Sashay one notch along the road. Truck number two clanks up beside The blower which spews salt and snow Into its built-up box beside. See, grinding now, a baby plough, With red-faced driver tucked inside, Trundles bundles of frozen stars Into someone's shoveled drive. While upon this clanking ballet Lacy snowflakes lazy drift Lightly swirling fluffy piles For moving by tomorrow's shift.

0

Feb 5, 2016

Feb 5, 2016 at 8:58 PM UTC

rosemary-turpin

Montreal Snowploughs

First the signs and then the noise - Insistent, honking, grinning boys Announcing City snow-ploughs What's this raucous clarion call, This four-note trumpet klaxon? It's the boys who tell the world To move its Ford, Corvette or Datsun. A snowfull truck on squeaky chains Creaks off to dump its ***** crystal load. And four more trucks parked right behind Sashay one notch along the road. Truck number two clanks up beside The blower which spews salt and snow Into its built-up box beside. See, grinding now, a baby plough, With red-faced driver tucked inside, Trundles bundles of frozen stars Into someone's shoveled drive. While upon this clanking ballet Lacy snowflakes lazy drift Lightly swirling fluffy piles For moving by tomorrow's shift.

22

It couldn't get any better, Minolta's flagship XM system is launched, Gotta have it with Kodachrome 64 ! Meanwhile Fruupp have their "The Prince of Heaven's Eyes" Ted Heath's "U" turn has unravelled and the Liverbirds are on the pill, for some the revolution is complete. There's next year before the EEC referendum with the chance to make the right decision. I'll never forget my Dad's yellow "Ford Cortina" before the Datsun become a better prospect. Roll on Kolchak Nightstalker you're Chicago's last saviour. United Nations resolution 366 has something to say about South West Africa. But at least Jessica Harper was "Special to Me".

0

Nov 30, 2012

Nov 30, 2012 at 7:10 PM UTC

topaz-oreilly

Times 1974

It couldn't get any better, Minolta's flagship XM system is launched, Gotta have it with Kodachrome 64 ! Meanwhile Fruupp have their "The Prince of Heaven's Eyes" Ted Heath's "U" turn has unravelled and the Liverbirds are on the pill, for some the revolution is complete. There's next year before the EEC referendum with the chance to make the right decision. I'll never forget my Dad's yellow "Ford Cortina" before the Datsun become a better prospect. Roll on Kolchak Nightstalker you're Chicago's last saviour. United Nations resolution 366 has something to say about South West Africa. But at least Jessica Harper was "Special to Me".

19

Outta Here This is already taking to long, over it before I’m even into it, too legit to quit what not, genuine not counterfeit, I counter with, Love when ever a Hater steps, got the best moves like a chess move, where the Queen gets the King hit, call that one, the King’s Gambit, reckless like drunk double agent detective, accidental checkmate surprised as you still act like I planned it, but if you’ve noticed in chess, it always ends with “check mate.”, which means you never actually **** the man, you warn but do not finish him, must be an English game, of English origins, or maybe it’s Indian, either way it’s foreign, wait, nevermind I’m snoring, see even the most entertaining thing, sometimes seems so boring, this is already taking to long, over it before I’m even into it, too legit to quit what not, genuine not counterfeit, see we all know time is priceless, because it’s the only thing we can’t be any amount of, all the money in the world, still haven’t a moment to lose, can spare a dime but not a minute, Time or Money which would you choose? Nothing to prove, you want the truth, all of these words, have already been used, it’s done, party’s over, I see the sun, there is no cover, it’s like that morning after at the party, and everything doesn’t look quite as pretty, and the sun is starting to rise, and you want to go but don’t know where specifically, this is the paradox we all walk, on the road to Eventuality, with Dear Watson steering in a Datsun, stating the obvious that it’s “All elementary”, Dear Watson I’m lost and, this is already taking to long, I’m anxious with no direction nor patience, and the only thing I want to get is gone… This is already taking to long, over it before I’m even into it, too legit to quit what not, genuine not counterfeit… So come on, let’s get outta here so we can get into it… ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

0

Sep 6, 2017

Sep 6, 2017 at 11:08 PM UTC

aaronlalux

∆ Outta Here ∆

Outta Here This is already taking to long, over it before I’m even into it, too legit to quit what not, genuine not counterfeit, I counter with, Love when ever a Hater steps, got the best moves like a chess move, where the Queen gets the King hit, call that one, the King’s Gambit, reckless like drunk double agent detective, accidental checkmate surprised as you still act like I planned it, but if you’ve noticed in chess, it always ends with “check mate.”, which means you never actually **** the man, you warn but do not finish him, must be an English game, of English origins, or maybe it’s Indian, either way it’s foreign, wait, nevermind I’m snoring, see even the most entertaining thing, sometimes seems so boring, this is already taking to long, over it before I’m even into it, too legit to quit what not, genuine not counterfeit, see we all know time is priceless, because it’s the only thing we can’t be any amount of, all the money in the world, still haven’t a moment to lose, can spare a dime but not a minute, Time or Money which would you choose? Nothing to prove, you want the truth, all of these words, have already been used, it’s done, party’s over, I see the sun, there is no cover, it’s like that morning after at the party, and everything doesn’t look quite as pretty, and the sun is starting to rise, and you want to go but don’t know where specifically, this is the paradox we all walk, on the road to Eventuality, with Dear Watson steering in a Datsun, stating the obvious that it’s “All elementary”, Dear Watson I’m lost and, this is already taking to long, I’m anxious with no direction nor patience, and the only thing I want to get is gone… This is already taking to long, over it before I’m even into it, too legit to quit what not, genuine not counterfeit… So come on, let’s get outta here so we can get into it… ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

62

I step carefully off of the curb, the white plastic bag is looped over the handle of my crutch, inside the bag are a couple of Little Debbie nutty bars, a bottle of diet Sprite, and a bottle of Pure Leaf, Southern Style Sweet Tea. Angela’s not with me. I’m taking her a treat. She’s working on campus. Making my way back to my car, I spot a maroon 1984 Datsun 510 at one of the pumps. Immediately, I have to check it out; we had one of those when I was a boy. I freeze. Hanging the nozzle back on the pump, is my father, he is wearing khakis, a red and blue striped polo shirt, and tennis shoes. His hair is less gray than it was when I saw him just yesterday, and what’s up with those glasses? The frames are really thick! “Hey…Pops?” I say. He looks up, his eyes wide, green and full of life, confusion racing across his face. “Jay?” “Yeah.” “How old are you?” “I’m 40.” “How old are you?” “I’m 44.” “Whoa.” we both say at the exact same time. “What year is it?” he asks. “2015.” I reply. The 44 year old version of my father and the 40 year old version of myself stare at one another for another minute. Finally, the silence breaks. “You know, I have a wife and three kids.” He only laughs that deep, hearty, infectious laugh that has become an inherited trademark. “And, your mom’s got beans, Spanish rice, and hamburger patties working at home. Last I heard, you were pretty excited about supper tonight.” “I’m sure I am. I started work on this thing early, no doubt.” pointing to my gut. It is painfully obvious that we are both afraid to touch one another. No hug. No handshake. Nothing but a small wave once he’s back in the car. But, as he drives down Frederick Ave., toward the house, I see his window drop. “I always knew!” he yells. “You still do!” I yell back. The Datsun warbles and shimmers like water in the sun then blips out of existence. *** ©2015 P&ZPublications; -JBClaywell

0

Aug 1, 2015

Aug 1, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC

jay-claywell

A Thin Space in Time

I step carefully off of the curb, the white plastic bag is looped over the handle of my crutch, inside the bag are a couple of Little Debbie nutty bars, a bottle of diet Sprite, and a bottle of Pure Leaf, Southern Style Sweet Tea. Angela’s not with me. I’m taking her a treat. She’s working on campus. Making my way back to my car, I spot a maroon 1984 Datsun 510 at one of the pumps. Immediately, I have to check it out; we had one of those when I was a boy. I freeze. Hanging the nozzle back on the pump, is my father, he is wearing khakis, a red and blue striped polo shirt, and tennis shoes. His hair is less gray than it was when I saw him just yesterday, and what’s up with those glasses? The frames are really thick! “Hey…Pops?” I say. He looks up, his eyes wide, green and full of life, confusion racing across his face. “Jay?” “Yeah.” “How old are you?” “I’m 40.” “How old are you?” “I’m 44.” “Whoa.” we both say at the exact same time. “What year is it?” he asks. “2015.” I reply. The 44 year old version of my father and the 40 year old version of myself stare at one another for another minute. Finally, the silence breaks. “You know, I have a wife and three kids.” He only laughs that deep, hearty, infectious laugh that has become an inherited trademark. “And, your mom’s got beans, Spanish rice, and hamburger patties working at home. Last I heard, you were pretty excited about supper tonight.” “I’m sure I am. I started work on this thing early, no doubt.” pointing to my gut. It is painfully obvious that we are both afraid to touch one another. No hug. No handshake. Nothing but a small wave once he’s back in the car. But, as he drives down Frederick Ave., toward the house, I see his window drop. “I always knew!” he yells. “You still do!” I yell back. The Datsun warbles and shimmers like water in the sun then blips out of existence. *** ©2015 P&ZPublications; -JBClaywell

65

sunlight creeps from behind intermediate cloud cover above the stratocumulus, trails crisscross giving a geometry to the affair a barley discernable silver thread reaches out from my belly button and stretches into the heavens above – feeling myself fall backwards to the ground I am simultaneously...instantaneously shot, as if from a circus cannon, up recognizing my three-hundred sixty degree field of vision I helplessly watch my body fade from view – surrounded in ermine fur softness and basking in a warm orange light I visit the cosmos travelling beyond relativity laws, universes collide birth themselves and form life again all the while a nagging distracts the journey – strobe light ****** inside a mirrored room flashback acid trip melted Datsun at sunrise fathers body, emaciated and lifeless wall of flesh filling double French doors not a crack or fold to be seen – cold dog nose pushes my hand and brings my back to what we perceive as real smiling to myself I think about the amazing things I will see when dead –

0

May 9, 2015

May 9, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC

s-lyman-temple

skewed perception

sunlight creeps from behind intermediate cloud cover above the stratocumulus, trails crisscross giving a geometry to the affair a barley discernable silver thread reaches out from my belly button and stretches into the heavens above – feeling myself fall backwards to the ground I am simultaneously...instantaneously shot, as if from a circus cannon, up recognizing my three-hundred sixty degree field of vision I helplessly watch my body fade from view – surrounded in ermine fur softness and basking in a warm orange light I visit the cosmos travelling beyond relativity laws, universes collide birth themselves and form life again all the while a nagging distracts the journey – strobe light ****** inside a mirrored room flashback acid trip melted Datsun at sunrise fathers body, emaciated and lifeless wall of flesh filling double French doors not a crack or fold to be seen – cold dog nose pushes my hand and brings my back to what we perceive as real smiling to myself I think about the amazing things I will see when dead –

25

first rays of sunlight penetrate dew drops refracting light sending prisms dancing to my waiting cornea in the instant between refraction and visualization changes occur morphing playful prisms into beady red eyes bent evil and angry one hundred-thousand sets dew drops across the horizon individual blades of grass trees upon hills in the distance all staring intently at me this is of course only a fraction of a second after the Datsun dissolved into a puddle of pink early one summer morning peaking on LSD –

0

Feb 2, 2016

Feb 2, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC

s-lyman-temple

acitoy late 90's

first rays of sunlight penetrate dew drops refracting light sending prisms dancing to my waiting cornea in the instant between refraction and visualization changes occur morphing playful prisms into beady red eyes bent evil and angry one hundred-thousand sets dew drops across the horizon individual blades of grass trees upon hills in the distance all staring intently at me this is of course only a fraction of a second after the Datsun dissolved into a puddle of pink early one summer morning peaking on LSD –

23

broken shards of tempered glass scattered across the parking lot flare excrement in little piles give the children something to poke at while they wait heated voices from behind the Datsun as she screeches disapproval frantically explaining the bind a momentary loss of concentration can bring expressing innocence and professing innocents tears spill as reality takes hold the bus is the only option now –

0

Apr 15, 2015

Apr 15, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC

s-lyman-temple

Elizabeth has an accident

broken shards of tempered glass scattered across the parking lot flare excrement in little piles give the children something to poke at while they wait heated voices from behind the Datsun as she screeches disapproval frantically explaining the bind a momentary loss of concentration can bring expressing innocence and professing innocents tears spill as reality takes hold the bus is the only option now –

11

When I was young My friends used to talk About kingswood country One friend used to say You can’t take the kingswood I polished the dashboard No I am taking the Datsun And I felt part of a group Laughing at that tv show In 2005 my aunty gave me Kingswood country for Christmas And I watched it imagining I Was mucking with my friend You can’t take the kingswood I am taking the Datsun You see I was enjoying Walking down memory lane With Ted Thelma Bruno Craig And I hear pat saying ‘ I am like Craig ‘ You see Bruno stuck up for himself I showed my friend the show That boosted my mojo back then Even now Mojo is good an adult word for being cool I feel I have man’s kid foot It is not a disease it is a boost of mojo I enjoyed catching up on kingswood country It was part of the eighties In which I listened to every eighties thing on Like def leopard and cheap trick and all the boppy music too The eighties rule Let’s turn back time to revisit the eighties Goodbye Ross Higgins Judi Farr and lex marinos

0

Sep 14, 2024

Sep 14, 2024 at 6:18 PM UTC

johnny-georgy-brown

relive the eighties with kingswood country and music

When I was young My friends used to talk About kingswood country One friend used to say You can’t take the kingswood I polished the dashboard No I am taking the Datsun And I felt part of a group Laughing at that tv show In 2005 my aunty gave me Kingswood country for Christmas And I watched it imagining I Was mucking with my friend You can’t take the kingswood I am taking the Datsun You see I was enjoying Walking down memory lane With Ted Thelma Bruno Craig And I hear pat saying ‘ I am like Craig ‘ You see Bruno stuck up for himself I showed my friend the show That boosted my mojo back then Even now Mojo is good an adult word for being cool I feel I have man’s kid foot It is not a disease it is a boost of mojo I enjoyed catching up on kingswood country It was part of the eighties In which I listened to every eighties thing on Like def leopard and cheap trick and all the boppy music too The eighties rule Let’s turn back time to revisit the eighties Goodbye Ross Higgins Judi Farr and lex marinos

35

The smell of smoke from my father's Winston in a Datsun Z on a hot day in California in the summer, the crinkle of a bag of chips with the wind ripping through the window, a skip through the cities between there and home Childhood memories like ashes in an ashtray

0

Oct 24, 2020

Oct 24, 2020 at 12:29 AM UTC

misadventuresofcrow

Ashtray

The smell of smoke from my father's Winston in a Datsun Z on a hot day in California in the summer, the crinkle of a bag of chips with the wind ripping through the window, a skip through the cities between there and home Childhood memories like ashes in an ashtray

13