"gto" poems
Do you remember days gone by
When car songs ruled the radio
Think about the passing years
Where did these songs all go?
Little Honda, Duece Coupe
I miss my GTO
I miss the beach boy harmony
Where did the car songs go?
The Little Old Lady From Pasadena
My Hot Rod Lincoln...oh
Daddy took my t-bird away
Where did my car songs go?
Way back in the sixties
The car song, it was boss
Where has the music travelled
It's this generations loss
Do you remember days gone by
When car songs ruled the radio
Think about the passing years
Where did these songs all go?
Little Honda, Duece Coupe
I miss my GTO
I miss the beach boy harmony
Where did the car songs go?
Hot Rods, and dune buggies
The cars would go go go
Where are the car songs hiding
Does anybody know?
I miss my barracuda
My "Woody" was the bomb
There's nothing out there like it
Where has the car song gone?
The music they are playing
Just puts me fast asleep
I need to hear my car song
No more "Rolling In The Deep"
Do you remember days gone by
When car songs ruled the radio
Think about the passing years
Where did these songs all go?
Little Honda, Duece Coupe
I miss my GTO
I miss the beach boy harmony
Where did the car songs go?
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
Dear mum
im sorry im not the perfect daughter
and that i have so many flaws
and insecurities
im sorry im such a *****
and am always moody
im sorry that im nothing like
my big sister and i never will be
im sorry i dont live up to
what you wanted me to be
the young beautiful
little happy girl
you once knew.
Dear Dad
im sorry that you gto stuck with me
you know when you
and mum broke up
im sorry you had to raise a teenage
daughter on your own
putting up with my
mood swings and my
horrid attitude
all my crying and depression
im sorry for all the arguing
and fighting
in conclusion im sorry for not being the perfect
daughter one that you can
smile about and point out to your friends and
say thats my baby girl
im sorry im just a failure in so many ways
im sorry ill be out of your
hair soon enough
Maddii xo
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 9:23 PM UTC
When you come of age
among Camaros, Mustangs,
GTO's and Challengers,
it seems somehow sad
to hear the pussified sound
of a Prius go puttering by
like Death driving
something sensible.
~mce
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 4:52 PM UTC
A wicked road winds across lawless lands
West of the Pecos.
Where Texas turns to hell; a lone GTO
Scourges smug asphalt with a big block
Renegade ethos.
She’s runnin’ low on gas,
She’s been runnin’ way too fast--
And she’s burnin’ rich--
But that’s good.
Because in that combustive concoction,
Is reflected the nuts and bolts,
Ball peens, and crescent wrenches
Of a provocative, evocative, tool chest lending to
Precision tuned angst riddled verse.
She’s a flat black bad-ass *****
An epic among American cars--
A ‘69 Judge--the 400 cubic inch
Ram-Air rhythms riffing redline stuff
From bookstores to bars.
I work a service station on this
Lonely road, in this inferno west of the Pecos.
In the distance, I hear a distinct sound,
The Judge’s 400 big block, roaring with that
Bruisin’ outlaw ethos.
Down this wicked road of the accepted norm
This Judge is soundin’ mighty good,
I know to have the coffee ready,
As I listen to the poetry chanting under the hood.
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC