Radical Rasta poet Benjamin Zephaniah, 45, has always been a renaissance man. Since the publication of his first poetry collection in 1980, there have been albums, children’s novels, plays for the stage and Radio 4 and poetry readings across the globe. He was even an outside runner for the poet laureateship after the death of Ted Hughes.

But the easy-going Brummie has maintained an ambivalent relationship with the Establishment throughout. He has railed at racism in the police, chided the Queen for not apologising for slavery and last month he hit the headlines for refusing an OBE. He objected to the historic links between empire and slavery, saying: “OBE? Me? Up yours.”

When it comes to cars, however, he is an enthusiastic fan of British heritage. He is the proud owner of a Triumph TR7 and has owned every version of the classic British sports car from the TR3 onwards. Then there is the Triumph motorbike, an old Morris Oxford and a 1400cc Escort for knocking round town. All are a deep maroon: “Red is dread,” he says (“dread” being a Rasta term of approbration).

“The TR7 is no good when I’m in the city trying to park and worrying about security,” he says. “So I drive it when I can leave it next to the lake with the roof off while I feed the ducks, if you know what I mean. I like the driving position, almost lying down. And when you’re cruising up the motorway you can hear the wheels on the tarmac and feel the wind. I like my locks flying up.”

He once took the car to 120mph on a private road. “But I don’t take risks,” he says. “When I’m fast, I’m alert.” And he has a novel way to avoid road rage: “I pull a funny face in the mirror to remind myself that it’s not the end of the world.”

Such equanimity is a long way from his years as a teenage tearaway, when he once crashed a car through a despised teacher’s window. “I tried to drive it onto his bed,” he explains. Perhaps understandably, Zephaniah attended 10 schools and was expelled from several of them before ending up in borstal.

As a petty criminal he stole cars around Birmingham. The first car he paid for was a Mini. It cost £50, and he drove it from Birmingham to London when he was 14, on the night of his one and only driving lesson. “Somebody took me to a car park and I learnt to drive in 20 minutes,” he says.

Zephaniah, recently divorced, denies his TR7 is a “babe magnet”. When he enticed a date back to his house not long ago she insisted her two friends tag along. “So I had to put the three of them on the passenger seat. I managed to get the seatbelt round all of them.” He sighs. “Didn’t get me anywhere, though.”

During the 1980s he went through a politically correct phase of cycling everywhere or driving a Lada because he regarded the typical sports car driver as “medallion man with a trophy chick”. But when he collapsed from exhaustion on tour 10 years ago and was ordered to relax, he decided it could hardly be a sin to indulge a favourite hobby. So he bought a 1981 TR7 chassis, a racing Dolomite Sprint engine and Rover V8 running gear (suspension, brakes, drive shaft, etc) and with specialist help fashioned a unique sports car.

It has Ferrari-style cream leather upholstery, “bordeaux red” paintwork, a scarlet-carpeted boot, lots of chrome and a six-speaker sound system. Inside, the TR7 is neat and tidy. There’s no personal detritus, just a few CDs and photos as “giveaways”, plus a hat to ensure that his yard-long dreadlocks don’t get wound round the fan belt during repairs. Oh, and a Batman magnet that he occasionally attaches to the dashboard — “I call it the Blackmobile,” he grins.

The Triumph certainly attracts attention. Mostly, he’s stopped with inquiries about the car’s pedigree, but occasionally the police go fishing for a ganja bust. “They never believe it when I say I don’t smoke,” he says.

Despite his fondness for classic motors, he is keen to point out his green credentials. For local tasks, he cycles or jogs; he doesn’t drink, smoke or eat meat; and makes sure his engines are clean-running, “so I don’t feel any guilt”.

The TR7 may be great to drive, but when he’s in a chilled-out mood he turns to the stately 35-year-old two-tone Morris Oxford, which he shares with a friend. “I feel like the Queen,” he says. “You get completely different looks — mainly from older people.”

It’s not only classic British cars that get Zephaniah excited, he also jointly owns a 1966 Triumph Bonneville motorbike which he rides only “when I’m feeling really good”.

His passion for the marque is clear: while he refused a gong from the Queen he is proud of his cup from the TR owners’ club for Best Working Class Car. “It means a car that you use, not just one you show. But I like the double meaning,” he says. Then he adds with a smile: “It’s funny, I go all British when I think about old bikes and cars.”

ON HIS CD CHANGER

In the Triumph I have music really pumping. At the moment it's mainly Missy Elliott and a lot of hip-hop, and my new album Naked, which hasn't yet been released.

But I also listen to George Formby. I grew up with him on television. I often have Radio 4 on: a friend said I must be the only person to pull up outside the house blasting out Start the Week.

Face by Benjamin Zephaniah is the Afternoon Play on Radio 4 on January 2