Anyone body here ever write poetry? I took a poetry class in college, I enjoy it quite a bit. I don't write often though. I wrote one last night.
Its pretty rough, but I only spent an hour on it. Questions/comments/suggestions. Let me know what you think of it, what you think it means to me, and what it means to you.
-The Automobile-
Chad
9/30/09
The automobile started,
Yawning awake,
It slid into reverse
Precariously exiting the garage,
Easing into first
Advancing into the rouge red morning
Dancing rays of light illuminated the snowflake automobile as it meandered off down the clear road,
The wake scattering newly deceased leaves,
Around a narrow bend,
A hitchhiker plods along,
Light glinting off the face,
Friendly enough,
The snowflake automobile jumps into first,
Tires yelping,
Second gear is forced violently into its slot,
Third is tortured similarly,
Pines blur the windows,
Corners meld together,
The canary yellow blips melt into a line,
Exploding around a curve,
Then midnight
A lone pine through the window,
One blip on the road,
Glass shatters
A blood red sunrise
Shreds of red fabric cling to the shards in the window,
Blood paints the steering wheel,
Eyes closed,
Rays illuminate the interior,
Breathing awake,
Glass freckles the carpet,
The steering wheel is clean,
The window gapes open-mouthed and bleeding,
Sliding again into first,
Rounding past a row of pines,
Needles attack the air as the automobile sidles away.
Its pretty rough, but I only spent an hour on it. Questions/comments/suggestions. Let me know what you think of it, what you think it means to me, and what it means to you.
-The Automobile-
Chad
9/30/09
The automobile started,
Yawning awake,
It slid into reverse
Precariously exiting the garage,
Easing into first
Advancing into the rouge red morning
Dancing rays of light illuminated the snowflake automobile as it meandered off down the clear road,
The wake scattering newly deceased leaves,
Around a narrow bend,
A hitchhiker plods along,
Light glinting off the face,
Friendly enough,
The snowflake automobile jumps into first,
Tires yelping,
Second gear is forced violently into its slot,
Third is tortured similarly,
Pines blur the windows,
Corners meld together,
The canary yellow blips melt into a line,
Exploding around a curve,
Then midnight
A lone pine through the window,
One blip on the road,
Glass shatters
A blood red sunrise
Shreds of red fabric cling to the shards in the window,
Blood paints the steering wheel,
Eyes closed,
Rays illuminate the interior,
Breathing awake,
Glass freckles the carpet,
The steering wheel is clean,
The window gapes open-mouthed and bleeding,
Sliding again into first,
Rounding past a row of pines,
Needles attack the air as the automobile sidles away.
