Poems about drivers

Drivers lessons
My wife wanted to learn to drive.
I found myself in fear not for my life but for my insurance rates.
My heart beat fast and all I could see was those pearly gates.
She climbs in and said let's go.
First she put the key in to start and turn it on (and grind the starter which will be other bills).
I told her to put in reverse that is what r stands for not race.
We back out of the spot nice and easy.
Then I tell her right turn so she turns left.
We go a few feet which is a feat. Then left I tell her she turns right.
I then tell her the other right, she almost hits a car that's parked.
All of sudden I see these lights a cop behind us, great what next.
He gave us a ticket which was no surprise.
We haven't left the parking lot.
She failed the lesson with a fling. I'm just glad she doesn't want to fly!!!

Tarmac florescent jackets
A hell drive up the M6 motorway
Speed average checks
A drivers nightmare

The air stings my bare skin
I can see my breath
I can see an escape
The overcast white is too bright
For my tired eyes
And my wandering heart
And two different cars
Crashed in the exact same spot
Two mornings in a row

And I could only help but laugh
At the synchronicity of the universe
Or the foolishness of young toyota drivers
Trying to believe their own mystery

Two mornings in a row
I'm at loss for words
Or certainty
But today
I saw an exit,
And it wasn't nosediving off the road

I can feel the tension even through the dirty speckled glass seperating us.
Unsolved questions and answers linger in the lane between us; captivating and enthralling us.
It's funny how we knew each other so well.
Then suddenly, we knew nothing.
Maybe you hated me or maybe I just assumed without ever taking you into consideration.
Either way, it's a moot point now.

We stare at each other like deer caught in headlights; scared to look away.
It seems like an eternity has passed when I finally start to react.
That's also when I become aware of the tear rolling down my cheek.
My lips start to form themselves around your name and all too suddenly the light turns a murky green, signaling the lonely drivers and passengers to drive off; to move on.
As we leave each other, my mouth forms a semi-smile hoping for forgiveness; hoping for one in return.

It's too late.

You're gone now.
Just another car in a lane driving off; driving away from me.
Maybe it's for the best.
Perhaps there was things left unspoken and unthought of.
I guess now we'll never know.

Days and days pass, buds bloom into flowers, they grow into a love, pluck them like stars, but they fade out,

Their night is longer than stars and in our case; we can't ever seem to find the reflection of the sun rays on our face

The bouquet of crimson roses wilt in the absence of truth, I lay on my bed, sorting out the messes where my hands lay guilty,

Counting out my faults and slashing out the expectations I branched out from spring and summer

Millions of seconds spent throwing words around like cars smashing into trucks,

We were both careless drivers of this galaxy that we called ours,

Forgive me dear lover, I never had the water in me to pour to the seedlings,

Our kisses bled into accidents, and you were never a fire-fighter

Days and days passed we gave into pain just for the sake of what our past is made of,

Distance bit us, poisoned our veins with plague and our hearts wilted like the roses you used to give me every day,

But I never pressed our love the way I pressed the roses in the art books.

The sun grew away; we were left deserted in the tunnel without calendars and time passed us by,

Motionless we grew; winter came in and never left, but here we are waiting for the trains,

For the final parting that was due a long time ago.

It's such a silly paradox
The lonely man
The island of one
Till someone enters your stage
Then you love, leave and turn the page
Cause a spirit needs to be nurtured
And most of us haven't felt that since birth
So why bother trying
When they sing freedom songs
From shackles of iron

But why not skip
On the cruelty of duel thoughts
You could be crazy or corporate
But your real father is spread wide open

I know your brain is bleeding
You rather have it broken then
Try to mend a torn hem
Living for the moment
Can make you rather numb
So you wear your jeans inside out
Hoping the future comes
Sticks and stones
Bring warmth to your bones
But words will always hurt you

But why not skip
On the cruelty of duel thoughts
You could be crazy or corporate
But your real father is spread wide open

Everyone around you
Is wearing the face of Jesus
But you see their roots
From the Judas tree
And they hit
Every branch
On the way down
Back to square one
Is back to the flora
And dumb

They are

The ones who
Opperate the buses.

It is a heavy civic duty.

The car
The bar
The music
The laughter
The bottle
The gladness
The bottles
The glasses
The sadness
The reluctance of a listener
The anger
The fight
The door
The sudden thud outside
The gettin' up
The staggerin'
The poor judgment
The rain
The car
The short-long drive too far
The slippery and hazy highway
The swervin' from side to side
The oncomin' other
The collision
The crash
The smash
The mangled torso
The last gasp
THE END