An Ode to Autos on World Poetry Day
CARS.COM — Happy World Poetry Day! This celebration of the rhythmic word was officially adopted by the UNESCO in 1999 in Paris to “support linguistic diversity through poetic expression and to offer endangered languages the opportunity to be heard within their communities.” Uhhh … OK, sure.
For us at Cars.com, it’s also an excuse to break from crash tests and Car Seat Checks for a few, and pen an ode to automobiles.
Related: 6 Cars Dr. Seuss Would’ve Driven
So without further ado: Li’l Corvettes are red, Kelley Books are blue, before our meter runs out, here’s some verses for you...
“Gigawatt?” by News Editor Matt Schmitz
A wonderful car, the DeLorean,
says this automotive historian.
Sprint to 60 ain’t great,
but just needs 88
to bring Michael J. Fox heretofore again.
“Missed Connections,” by Senior Research Editor Mike Hanley
Car buyers clamor for CarPlay
to keep driving boredom at bay
But what of the radio?
Or looking out the window?
Come now, that’s from a long-gone day
“Doomed to Repeat,” by Executive Editor Joe Wiesenfelder
My grandmother’s Edsel upset her
Five buttons each bore a letter
The push-button trans
had very few fans
Honda and Lincoln should know better
“Spring Tease,” by Assistant Managing Editor for News Jennifer Geiger
The morning sun calls,
top down, Range Rover Evoque.
No, wait, it’s March.
“The Saddest ‘Vette,” by Washington, D.C. Bureau Chief Fred Meier
’75 was the saddest Corvette
New rules just had to be met
It was barely alive
HP was 165
At least it was not a Chevette
“I’ll Take Two,” by Video Editor Leslie Cunningham
Some cars are red
Some cars are blue
My favorite are the fast ones
How about you?
“My Eyes!,” by Joe Wiesenfelder
While driving a CrossCabriolet
I heard many onlookers say
A big droptop Nissan?
For that there’s a reason
But my God, must it look that way?
“Alternative Speed,” by L.A. Bureau Chief Brian Wong
I am a man of simple taste,
I like a car that moves with haste.
One so fast it could glide over water,
oh wait, I forgot — I own a Miata.
But though it’s not fast, it’s got lots to love,
steering that’s great, seats that fit like a glove.
So even if your car isn’t what we’d call fast,
that doesn’t mean that the love won’t last.
“A Miata by Any Other Name,” by Joe Wiesenfelder
The Miata is tough to describe
To drive one is to feel alive
But it won’t endear you
I won’t even hear you
if you call it an “MX-5.”
“Enthusiasm Lost,” by Senior Consumer Affairs Editor Kelsey Mays
It once was a joy, owning cars —
talking camshafts and anti-roll bars.
You’d spend all weekend
with a wrench and a friend
and sit watching your ride from afar.
Then traffic, it overtook us.
In cities, we’d rather the bus.
The practical matters
soon turned into tatters
what once fired up our car lust.
Today our car efforts are spent
on searching for zero percent.
Is the maintenance free?
How’s reliability?
Will the dealership fix my first dent?
Someday we should learn to re-track
the essence of cars we now lack.
Find some open road —
take off the day’s load —
and bring love for our cars roaring back.
“Requiem for a Dream Car,” by Copy Editor Patrick Masterson
With spring finally here
and World Poetry Day arrived,
it seems like it’s time
for convertibles to thrive.
Perhaps you’ve dusted off
your classic in the garage
(as good excuse as any
for a new Facebook montage).
Wonderful weather for mudding
to break in a pickup truck;
and it’s always better with friends
just in case you get stuck.
Better weather, clearer roads,
‘Breaks with the kids to come;
we recommend Chrysler’s Pacifica
if you’ll be driving more than “some.”
Cleaning off the salt?
Wiping away the sand?
Polishing off the rims?
Doing it all by hand?
All part of the process,
of getting up to speed;
a small price to pay
for the joy of driving, indeed.
It sounds pretty great,
the freedom of the road’s call.
And if you need help with your options,
Cars.com’s got it all.
Not sure how to buy?
Don’t know where to clean?
We’ve got you covered, there, too:
Click to see what we mean.
Do it for us — or rather,
do it for me.
I’m stuck at my desk
writing poetry, you see.
And when Poetry Day is done
and my boss has given the sign,
it’s a woeful ride home
on the CTA’s Blue Line.
I don’t recommend it.
