"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Friday, January 9, 2015

Silver Push

Silver button push was the magic touch
my fingers craved when drama rattled
a family of five in a home of too many walls.

With the gas petal floor boarded to escape
I held communion with an engine roar
while fins fishtailed on gravel.

On a pavement high I chased life
through small towns where daredevil
dreams didn’t wear muddy shoes.

Sixteen drove its didn’t give a damn days
until ‘67’s moment of inattention sentenced
’57’s blue metal to a graveyard of rust.

©Susie Clevenger 2014

I couldn't find a picture of a blue 1957 Chrysler four door. The car had a history of escape prior to it being my mode of transportation. The article is about my uncle's escape in it. Therapy anyone?

This was Herotomost's challenge at Real Toads: My challenge today is for you to summon up memories of that first mode of transport, the one that gave you the freedom to get from A to B without that nosy family butting in.


angieinspired said...

So awesome that you are the rightful owner of a get-away car!

Herotomost said...

Really love that car, but even more in love with that last Stanza. You nailed the door shut on this one whoop whoop!!!! Thanks Susie!

Kenn Merchant said...

A girl I graduated with in high school got a car quite similar to this, except that it was a baby blue hue. Looks like a great ride for the song "Low Rider."

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Reminds me of the time I stayed over at a girlfriend's, and we rolled her family car down the driveway before starting it (so the hired hand wouldnt hear)(her parents were away), and drove into town. I was 15, she 16 but only had her learner's. She got in some big trouble for that!

Margaret said...

I agree - that last stanza is awesome. And it was a get-a-way car of sorts for your Uncle. Wow!

Björn Rudberg said...

What an amazing story to have a car like that.. Love that backstory too..

blueoran said...

Silver buttons! What a way to get into gear! No wonder your Uncle Dickie broke out of prison and made his way (11 miles?!) to steal it from his brother and made off with his wife. Fins fishtailing ... now that's a life to survive ... This poem was therapy enough for me!

hedgewitch said...

Fascinating, and great story in your poem. My grandfather had a 50's Chrysler for awhile, and I loved it--it was like being in a yacht, sailing down the street.

georgeplaceblog said...

Love the back story and the last stanza. Such a great read.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is a great story and I really appreciate the way you phrased each line. Excellent poetry.

Mama Zen said...

This is really beautifully crafted!

manicddaily said...

Beautifully put together and something that many can relate too--even if we don't have true escape cars! Thanks, Susie. k.

Jim said...

Love it Susie!! Reminds me of LOTS !!
Right off, my ex-wife's parents had one of the real 57's. When they finally shed it they gave it to our daughter who lives in South Houston. She wore it out.
It was a dark brown and either white or ivory trim color.

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