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Array ( [sid] => 179401 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => No Wax? No Problem. [time] => 2014-10-05 07:59:45 [hometext] => A musing on the nature of people [bodytext] =>

Cars fairly dipped in wax so shiny liquid
the colour invites a drink;
“Some protectorant there”, methinks-
a life and not a scratch,
not a thatch or dimple, nary a wimple,
not the slightest unsightly pimple
marring the flow and seductive lines-
a life sped without indent;
immune, spent in a special lane cleared of hard times.
Easy on the eyes, with “Oohs”, “Ahhs” and sighs.
What propels these seeming machines,
screeching and screaming, scheming and leaning
out at high speed;
ripping, grasping their dreams-
Oft times from slower and peeling
vehicles of lesser material means.

My vehicle is marred, and I like it this way-
I can see that dent and remember when;
I can pull up that funny fine day.
(That light post wouldn't get out of my way!)
Where is the joy in flawless contours-
there's no story, no tale-
a motor of sweet and sexy growl,
a machine never satisfied, never shiny enough,
ever on the prowl-
I'll pass on that dream machine fueled of the foul. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 400 [topic] => 64 [informant] => Invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )

No Wax? No Problem.

Contributed by Invierno on Sunday, 5th October 2014 @ 07:59:45 AM in AEST
Topic: ambiguous

Cars fairly dipped in wax so shiny liquid
the colour invites a drink;
“Some protectorant there”, methinks-
a life and not a scratch,
not a thatch or dimple, nary a wimple,
not the slightest unsightly pimple
marring the flow and seductive lines-
a life sped without indent;
immune, spent in a special lane cleared of hard times.
Easy on the eyes, with “Oohs”, “Ahhs” and sighs.
What propels these seeming machines,
screeching and screaming, scheming and leaning
out at high speed;
ripping, grasping their dreams-
Oft times from slower and peeling
vehicles of lesser material means.

My vehicle is marred, and I like it this way-
I can see that dent and remember when;
I can pull up that funny fine day.
(That light post wouldn't get out of my way!)
Where is the joy in flawless contours-
there's no story, no tale-
a motor of sweet and sexy growl,
a machine never satisfied, never shiny enough,
ever on the prowl-
I'll pass on that dream machine fueled of the foul.

Copyright Â© Invierno ... [ 2014-10-05 07:59:45]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: No Wax? No Problem. (User Rating: 1 )
by hauntedscorp on Sunday, 5th October 2014 @ 12:48:38 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I enjoy your use of metaphor here. Cleverly written, and open to interpretation. It made me think of celebrities and their photoshopped lives...Or perhaps the 1% that "rules" the world. What a ridiculous world it would be if it were devoid of flaws. How on earth would we learn? Grow? Feel compassion? There can be no story without a plot, and when we delete out our imperfections there is nothing left on the page.

This is wonderful. Thank you for posting.

~Scorp

Re: No Wax? No Problem. (User Rating: 1 )
by RussellReinhardt on Sunday, 5th October 2014 @ 01:53:16 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Hi there Bud

Well Scorp got the jump on me there all I can say is I agree 100% with him great write Mike loved it. God bless

Greetings
Rus

Re: No Wax? No Problem. (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Thursday, 9th October 2014 @ 01:08:06 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Oh please, Oh I don't cry out a name
or personification or anthropomorphism
Gertrude
Just to any old dame
See I got to make it home
You know you do smell a bit
like motor oil... scratch that...
I mean you smell like that old irish
rose
And please believe me,
I don't believe those jerks what they
say, the garage I will never take you
my honey, to that garage, my honey
again...

Helped my friend clean up his dads old
1964 ford mustang
all day once... he was lead guitarist in our band
and a couple years older than me
I was like fifteen, played rhythm guitar
in this grown up band, don't know why
there's no sun up in the sky sometime
just before winter sets in back in Michigan
Anyway's, we worked it and worked it and it
Just wasn't good enough for his old man,
Then his older brother shows up with the
Freaking, U know what, yeah the professional
Buffer wax er upper
Your poem made me go back and remember that
I had a long head of red hair,
dudes sista was like 19 and she was into me
And I was like, duh

haha...
excellent writing
"marring the flow and seductive lines---
a life sped without indent,
immune, spent in a special lane cleared of hard times."

I feel my own vehicle is marred from time to time, not just Gertrude, I mean that old hussy has more than a few excuses --- thank goodness she doesn't understand the reality of the situation...

great poem once again dude, ha
Peace!

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