"speedway" poems
First you are born
Then everyone experiences the same firsts, just at different time bursts
Your first cuddle
Your first smile
Your first solid food
Your first tooth
Your first steps
Your first word
Your first shoes
Your first lullaby
Your first haircut
With your family you begin to create memorable firsts that last a lifetime.
Your first time holding a knife and fork
Your first visit to the park
Your first birthday
Your first visit to Father Christmas
Your first time riding a bike
Your first time going on a hike
Your first time roller skating
Your first time climbing a tree
Your first time grazing your knee
Your first holiday
Your first swimming lesson
Your first school
Your first exam
Your first cinema outing
Your first visit to the zoo
Your first ice cream
Next moving into your teens and the firsts that period brings, some of angst and fallen dreams.
Your first spot on your face
Your first period
Your first High Heel shoes
Your first boyfriend or girlfriend
Your first kiss
Your first broken heart
Your first day at High School
Your first crush on a Teacher
Your first forever friend
Your first day at College
Your first interview
Your first job
Your first driving lesson
Your first car
When you are older, if you are lucky, you find someone to share experiences with and your firsts become 1+1 = 2
When we first met
Our first date
Our first touch
Our first kiss
Our first dance
Our first song
Our first concert
Our first house
Our first child
Our first trip to the beach
Our first trip to the rugby
Our first trip to the speedway
Our first holiday at home
Our first holiday abroad
Our first ride on a train
Our first trip on an aeroplane
Our first car
Our first new car
Our first summer ball
Our first Winter ball
Our first trip to a museum
Our first grandchild
Looking for the firsts in life, will give you a life full of fun and surprise.
Reach for the first no matter what you do, keeping life interesting and new.
A life full of firsts will keep you young at heart.
Keep seeking out the firsts, until the day you depart.
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC
Maybe it's not meant for this
Driving for miles and miles
Stuck in the same intersection
Indecisive on the turning point
Speedometer at 10
Not able to go faster
Down the yellow brick road
To have the curtain torn away
Or maybe the compass is pointing North
Going down a curvy road
Confused and alone
But maybe that is inaccurate
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 9:47 PM UTC
My most persistent friends
have become six hours of jetlag
and the fading buzz of airline coffee--
as black and unforgiving as our red-eye flight,
as we wander German streets-- Füssen,
where the air is always crisp
and graceful, even awkwardly emerging
from an ugly winter.
Neuschwanstein castle sits mockingly
in the horizon-- the locals pass it by,
as I, some baffled foreigner
from Nowhere, Ohio,
where the streets bear gas stations
and the shameless scars
of recent construction (always
building, nothing built)
stand in disbelief.
Our thirst brings Jenny
and I to a Getränkeladen --
I sip on my first taste
of Apfelsaftschorle
as a roaring crowd
of local teens barge in,
with the violence of
a tornado we'd see in Xenia...
They speak in a crude,
indistinguishable slang
that Frau never could have
taught us
in room 322
Jenny hovers mindlessly
by the door-- contemplating
a bottle of Coca-Cola,
as the teenage stampede
shoves her off to the side--
fleeing out the door,
having bought nothing,
as the storekeeper sighs in disbelief.
They tore through
such a quaint little shop
with such an aimless recklessness,
one wouldn't think
a centuries-old castle
looms nonchalantly in the distance...
I was thirteen years old
and clueless--
Ben, who I believe is now
in juvie, and Ryan
stand on either side--
dumpy teenagers
in baggy clothes,
speaking in a crude,
brutal slang
that was invented in its usage.
We loitered every street
that would tolerate us,
in these exhausted Ohioan
suburbs, we tore through sidewalks
bearing unremarkable houses
in a sleepy neighborhood
with no grand castles nearby.
Our lazy strides, our ******
banter-- from Füssen, Germany,
to Who Cares, Ohio--
whether there's Neuschwanstein
or a Speedway to conquer,
there's never anything to do at home.
So wie ist das Leben...
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 9:09 PM UTC
Donald J. Trump:
Say what you will, but
He’s the only guy out there
Asking the obvious questions,
Common sense questions like
*“Why don’t Japan, South Korea &
The House of Saud, pay the USA for
Defending them militarily?”*
We sustain their political status quo,
We put boots on their ground, &
We provide them gold-plated munitions of
Mass Devastation
(like Mass Destruction only worse.)
What do we get? Bupkis, as in
“Bupkis Mit Kaduchas"
באָבקעס מיט קדחת
Translating roughly to
*“Shivering **** *****
The 2016 election truly highlights
A profound social shift taking shape,
A demographic division, similar to what
The 1960s called the Generation Gap.
Trump is anathema to most of our
Over-indulged, Millennial offspring;
Our privileged kids, a cohort of Americans children
Reared by blue-collar but college-educated parents,
Those of us who busted *** for our
Bourgeois lifestyle & discrete charm.
We were the Flower Children of the 60s.
We left Yasgur’s farm on a
Hallucinogenic carpet high but rudely
Crash-landed, a consequence of
Altamont Speedway,
Gasoline queues & shortages, &
Years of bipolar economics,
Replete with spinning gerbil wheel of
Double-digit inflation.
We went to work.
We got our **** together.
We settled down.
We gentrified.
Our kids?
They tell their friends they are house sitting,
But the place is the house they grew up in &
Their parents still live there.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 2:19 AM UTC
The stroll took place around 7.30pm
Pathway narrows off coming to its end
Tarmac river escapes to the other side - push on or go back?
Step out with trepidation, speedway of death growling
Clear head, open ear – to carry me
Uneven ground takes over the direction
Poppies swaying among tall strands of gathered grass
Almost removed from my skin
An alsatian leaps and barks – introduction or warning voice?
The undergrowth moves and cracks
Sky light continues overhead, securing me
A passer by greets me and continues on
It is strange to be acknowledged in this way
A small group of adolescents takes their turn also
I am encouraged from this monosyllabic stage of life that they would even bother
Reaching the tunnel of sounding motorway transport, it echoes
I notice homes not seen before in swift passing
Branches bathed in green, stretch out blocking
As though reaching to connect
Pushed aside, I continue
My head freeing up
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 6:13 PM UTC
My most persistent friends
have become six hours of jetlag
and the fading buzz of airline coffee--
as black and unforgiving as our red-eye flight,
as we wander German streets-- Füssen,
where the air is always crisp
and graceful, even awkwardly emerging
from an ugly winter.
Neuschwanstein castle sits mockingly
in the horizon-- the locals pass it by,
as I, some baffled foreigner
from Nowhere, Ohio,
where the streets bear gas stations
and the shameless scars
of recent construction (always
building, nothing built)
stand in disbelief.
Our thirst brings Jenny
and I to a Getränkeladen --
I sip on my first taste
of Apfelsaftschorle
as a roaring crowd
of local teens barge in,
with the violence of
a tornado we'd see in Xenia...
They speak in a crude,
indistinguishable slang
that Frau never could have
taught us
in room 322
Jenny hovers mindlessly
by the door-- contemplating
a bottle of Coca-Cola,
as the teenage stampede
shoves her off to the side--
fleeing out the door,
having bought nothing,
as the storekeeper sighs in disbelief.
They tore through
such a quaint little shop
with such an aimless recklessness,
one wouldn't think
a centuries-old castle
looms nonchalantly in the distance...
I was thirteen years old
and clueless--
Ben, who I believe is now
in juvie, and Ryan
stand on either side--
dumpy teenagers
in baggy clothes,
speaking in a crude,
brutal slang
that was invented in its usage.
We loitered every street
that would tolerate us,
in these exhausted Ohioan
suburbs, we tore through sidewalks
bearing unremarkable houses
in a sleepy neighborhood
with no grand castles nearby.
Our lazy strides, our ******
banter-- from Füssen, Germany,
to Who Cares, Ohio--
whether there's Neuschwanstein
or a Speedway to conquer,
there's never anything to do at home.
So wie ist das Leben...
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
Back to the Speedway,
The gas is $1.91
The food is cheap
Where my daddy
Buys cigars to chew on
The cashier
Is so high
He forgets what day it is
And wishes us a 'Merry Christmas'
On July 31st.
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
I had cigarettes
and diet coke for lunch
because Speedway was out
of pizza and
half an hour is not
enough time to wait in
line in this town.
I have too many hours
until I get to go home
and all I want to do is smoke ****
A sandwich would be nice too.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
I guess it's time for dinner, cause my paranoia is hungry
My emotions unhinged, thoughts racing like a speedway
It eats me from the inside like a bacteria disease
I shake like a tremor, cold sweat embedded upon my skin
My heart sinks to my stomach like an anchor
All I can do now is wait, that's all there is
It's like a prison more than anything
My emotions flow like a river, a fast stream
Carrying all these bad thoughts and flowing them in my head
Filling them up, is there an off button
The only way out is to die but I don't want to do that
It controls me like a robot though
My heart beats faster and faster
I feel like I'm going to throw up
I feel sick to my stomach
But what can I do
Thoughts of you invade my mind
and they won't escape
they won't escape
I wish I could escape
I wish
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 10:43 PM UTC
(A bit of fun for Thomas W. Case - I think he lives in Iowa)
Hawkeye pride burns bright in Iowa City,
the place where Tennessee Williams learned to curse.
Iowa City hosts the 4th of July, Iowa speedway race, unique perhaps
because the cars have to stay behind a tractor for the first 199 laps.
How polite are the people in Iowa City? I saw a news report where a man was mugged,
traumatic? Sure, but the man still remembered to say “Thank you” before the perp bugged.
There are over twenty-six churches here, people can be a bit pious and obnoxiously reflective.
There’s a Hawkeye infestation in Iowa City because of the university, classified as ‘moderately selective.’
Geographically, Iowa’s where the rolling plains meet a limestone rise.(1)
Did I mention that the bars close at 2am? A travesty in any serious drinker’s eyes.
Some noted authors came from Iowa City, the locals are proud of that and own it.
Most were playwrights and novelists, luckily, few of them turned out to be poets.
(1) whatever that is
Mar 8, 2024
Mar 8, 2024 at 9:34 PM UTC
my thoughts are stars
I cannot fathom into constellations
my thoughts are speedway cars
they wont pace themselves consistent
my thoughtless days are like my self control
nonexistent
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
I wonder if other people see death like I do.
I do not mean in a faux-macabre way,
a sad tween way.
Picking through the 3 isles of candies at
Speedway, I sometimes catch
a whiff of
death and
I don’t mean to, but I know that
my eyes must fill with him &
I wonder if the cashier
sees
anything,
,
Have you caught the glimmer
of an adult-to-be coming to terms
with the conflicting emotions
around death,
the desire, the fear,
the terror after horror,
the longing that subsides only
with time
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC
Night raids on Salt End
were legendary… It were a
giant chemical works with ship docks,
silos, storage tanks, fuel dumps,
an ideal 'drop off point' for Gerry…
But Salt End plant’s night raids
on Hedon Road
weren’t gonna daunt our lot,
they lived a mile or so down the lane to Preston
and seemed unafraid of gerri’n shot.
But they built a shelter across’t main road
in a field… On the outside It were a haystack
within the walls, six foot thick… proper beds
on hay bails to the front and back... cosy.
Down the middle was a ‘lounge’ with chairs,
lights, a radio - electric run from’t big ‘ouse
It’s better than being at’ome our Charlie used to say
For the eldest (and the architect) he’d not much nowse.
Me mam (then 19) told me she bussed it into Hull
****** the Doodlebugs” She needed Jitterbugs…
and they still danced at City Hall.
******** to Gerry and his mates.
Margie & her pal René,
dauntless, they had a right ball!
Last Bus to ‘Withernsea’ from town
dropped her off at the junction
by the Speedway on Hedon Road.
Just as her way was lit by fire bombs - all about
when Gerry dropped his final unaimed load
Maybe ack-ack’d sort him out.
She was 2 miles from home… every few seconds another blast.
Scuttling …dodging whistling incendiaries,
running fast, whippet like…
any second could’ve been her last
anything too close she’d have to jump in't ****
She couldn’t mek it t’t shelter or house so picked
the coal shed - instead… threw herself down
on coals…noise lifted - silence dawned… all clear
heavy breathing - not hers - she wan’t alone
What if it’s one of them - a downed ***** airman.
Nervous, terrified more like she let out a little shudder
a gentle cough… to test her nerve
“Is that you Margie?… You daft ******
It were brother Tom… He’d been t’t Nags Head
and he’d run the opposite way from the village instead.
Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 12:25 PM UTC
The image of you stuns me, freezes my breath
The taste of your lips draws me deeper
As I lay and feel your heart beat steadily through your chest
Your eyes are memorizing
They change as your affection lingers for depth
Pointing towards my direction, I wait paitently until my desire is fulfill
For I crave your sensation
Come a little closer so I can convey in your ear all my secrets
I'll lead you down a mystical speedway
A place to escape when you've reached your darkest hour
An embracement of happiness to cap a hold of
My finger tips push back your hair
A sense of calmness runs down your face
Cold chills spread down your spine
Your muscles start to contract
A gentle kiss to the neck
The night carries on
I long for your body, your taste
You move me, where I am hypotize
I gasp for a breath of air every time Im in your presents
My body contracts with every movement you make
Swiftly adjusting, as you take me away
Your fingertips which softly passes the base of my body
Draws deep sensation
I crave more affection from a man who steadily stole my heart
Time ticks, yet with him everything seems endless
I'm in a state of mind, where I discover a new life
My desire is hotter than fire burning to ashes
Stronger than any substances of addiction
My body shuts down in despair
Lost a sense of direction which once led me some where
Taunting me as if my arrival was near
I'm not quite ready to surrender my will
I contain some strength left within my soul still
This war craves for a revolution
A obstipate solution
Which is hidden within the wounded soliders that lie on the battlefield
Anert and numb
No sensation to wither to or from
A silent prayer whispers in the wind and blows calmly through each tree
Revealing the truth behind every lie
Still struggling to find, another one's mind
The last shot released
The last soldier that falls
A picture touches the ground of his love that he will never get another chance to be around
For he sacrificed his life, not only for his country but a wife he devoted his life to
He dies and deceases away
Years pass his love carries on
A flash back hits her thoughts of her husband holding her in his arms
She loses control of the steering wheel
Another car collides
She gracefully shuts her eyes
The image that is expose is her husband taking her hand to Heaven
A once upon of time
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
Dyed-in-the-wool commitment, knitted tight
to the reigns of tidy life will forbid dreaming.
Counted as wastage by common-sense sight
dreaming is seen behind myopic screens
and single-track minds believe this, blindly.
Shell off this misunderstanding, take flight
and join the first misty cavalcade to find
life that, only in dreams, can be seen aright.
Intangible clouds will open to notions
on faraway planes,
dress in right attire for chimerical muse
and fly deep ocean's
speedway to inspiring stars where fire
lit with gleads of potent ideas
vibrates inside a luminous heart, stoke
it alight and watch sparks
of melodious lines catch flame then wait.
New states will translate as words write
themselves, this yielding
to fervour for needing more dreaming
means insight appears,
grows stable, will flow and succeed.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 6:11 AM UTC
Hello Sunshine.
I saw you again today.
I was driving by the
Speedway and you
were wearing a
blue bandana.
I hope it was the one
you got from Bonaroo.
I remember how happy
it made you.
:)
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
There exists this place within myself that is deep and unknown-
Yet it is filled with peace.
Star gazing - Mars gazing-
I watch them dance to a beat of their own
And change colors like passing cars on a speedway.
What do they dance to?
Do they dance all night?
If I stare long enough - the sky begins to close in on me -
Like an elevator door migrating to the millionth floor.
My eyes become heavy and my feet begin to tingle.
Is it my circulation or the energy penetrating the souls of my feet and the sockets of my eyes?
The energy that sits so still in the night sky -
Yet moves at the speed of light.
I close my eyes - tuck my red robe collar close around my neck and let the pull of the night sky and the beat of the night earth, layer into my whole self.
30 feet off the ground and i can still feel the cold, damp, strong roots of the earth pushing and pulling every inch of me.
A draft crawls up my legs that are covored in silk.
My body shivers and turns into itself.
It is then that i listen.
I listen to the voice on the other end of the receiver -
Yet i dont hear the things hes saying,
I hear the things he is not saying.
They are screaming so loud - yet his voice remains calm, monotone, methodic almost.
I feel his peaceful pull between reality and perception.
I wait.
I wait for the quick temper to emerge- to unravel itself like a traveling, unraveling ball of yarn.
So yearning to become its colors.
And then all goes still again..
Yet moving at a pace only he can create.
Moving at a pace that wont be allowed to be changed by anything or anyone - but maybe, just me.
The observation of human doings - wait - arent we suppose to be human beings?
Why do we believe that to do will bring us further and better than just being?
Than just being.
I am ready to just be.
I am ready.
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
What has come of me?
Everything is changing.
What shall be?
Life rearranging
My heart on a mountain range
My mind racing the speedway
Never felt so strange
Everything changing day by day
Do I have a passion?
Or am I just lost
In life's transaction.
Has everything been tossed?
Nothing makes sense
Not anymore,
Everything intense
Where is my call?
Where shall this end?
One day I'll know.
For now these wounds I tend,
One day I shall go.
But until then
I'll do what I can.
I will not bend
I shall ascend
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 6:47 AM UTC
Seize the speedway.
Try going outdoors.
For at the end of the day
This day was yours.
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 1:05 AM UTC
I look horrible
today.
I have huge dark
circles underneath
my eyes,
and acne covers my
face like splattered paint.
I don't sleep enough.
I'm always awake,
driving some where,
working,
or seeing my boyfriend.
I live off of
coffee, cigarettes,
and ****
Always trying to
stay energized,
while I get a buzz.
I knocked my coffee
over at the Speedway
this morning,
and ran away.
I smoked a joint
before I went in..
don't judge me.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC
The forecast calls for high
humidity and another long,
hot day.
I woke up last night and
forgot where I was,
because he wasn't sleeping
next to me.
I woke up really early and
got ready relatively fast.
My friend's dad who works
at Speedway offered me a job.
Probably because I'm their
most consistent shopper.
I politely declined and told him
I already work 40 hours a week.
I got high before work,
so I feel good.
Just not looking forward
to the humidity,
again.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC
I've seen more people
smile at seven in the
morning,
than I ever have
at night.
Apparently all the
happy people have
day jobs.
The guy who works
at Speedway,
bought my coffee
this morning.
What a wonderful way
to start off a Friday.
Now I'm even smiling.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 7:13 AM UTC
On my way to work
I stopped by the Speedway to
get gas.
I pulled up to the pump next
to a pick up truck,
that was missing the back completely.
On my way out of the gas station
I recognized the guys who were waiting on their friend.
After walking around the back
of my car after pumping gas,
the guy on the passenger side
had the window down.
He smiled and said,
"We're going wheelin'"
I laughed and said, "Have fun."
He said, "you too."
I told him I'm going to work,
and he laughed a little.
He waved at me as I pulled away,
and I did too.
I left feeling happy,
to have such a nice, positive
interaction with someone I
once sat in high school classes with.
Good vibes.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
I look for you
every time I go
to Speedway
before class.
Hoping to see you buying an
extra large coffee,
and then smoke
a cigarette in my car.
I want to laugh with
you again.
It was like we never
stopped.
I could live off your
encouragement,
and your smile.
I just like to know
how you are.
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 10:55 AM UTC