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Social Spring Poems | Social Poems About Spring

These Social Spring poems are examples of Social poems about Spring. These are the best examples of Social Spring poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | I do not know? | |

Spring Summer And Fall

From bright colors even the brightest blond turns grey.
Grown men now stand.
Were once young children did play.

 The once new cover.
Is now tattered and torn.
time has all but erased the oaths  once proud men had sworn.

The field now overgrown  still haunts memories of the blue and grey.
Old worn headstones markers of were they'll forever lay.
No bell to ring no voice shall call.
The ghosts of the past erased by spring summer and fall.

The old porch stands hidden by a overgrowth of vines.
Now blank are the boards that once were painted signs.
The blood followed swiftly from the wound of the past.
To forge a path to a time that could never last.

Gone is the tree that once stood so very tall.
Forgotten by time 
So is the legend of spring summer and fall.


Details | Burlesque | |

Suburban Spring

Suburban Spring	
(4.15.10)


	Springtime fills the air, 
			like laughing gas.
		(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
	Middle-class houses 
			are starting to dance.
		(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.

			I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
				Confused and intrigued, 
		with a slight urge to pee.

	The father cuts grass, 
			like a sleepwalker.
		(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
	A six pack later, 
			he starts washing his car.
		(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.

	The mother kneels in dirt, 
			tending the garden.
		(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty.  (Figuratively, at least.)
	A sunset later, 
			she cooks family dinner.
		(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)

			I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.

	The son plays war games, 
			dying for fun.
		(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
	A full pitcher later, 
			tweaking on sugar,
		(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.

	The daughter makes a picnic, 
			inviting her toys.
		(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
	After the tea time, 
			she's off picking flowers.
		(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)

		They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
		They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."  
			(And proceed to stuff their face.)

	The dog sits by the boy - 
			Loyal and true.
		(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
	After dinner, 
                     he offers to help with the dishes.
		(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite.  The dog is not surprised.

	Bedtime comes soon after.  
			The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
		(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
	After tucking them in, 
			the parents watch TV.
		(Or maybe they just dream they do, 
					sleeping in its glow.)

	The dog is changing channels, 
			looking for a better show.
				Confused and intrigued, 
		he pees on the carpet below.


Details | Haiku | |

MUSIC - HAIKU

Play The Radio Get Up And Dance All Night Long Music Heals The Soul


Details | Light Poetry | |

SPRING IN AIR, LOVE ONLINE

SPRING IN AIR, LOVE ONLINE                                                          20/02/13

Nowadays , life is so unpalatable and stoic.
So unnecessarily busy and eventfully hectic.
Young folks thus gather in a shadowy discotheque, to kill,
The retreating winter shedding its last chill.
The chirps of the departing migratory,
With massacred green in a concrete urban factory,
Welcomes the spring breeze, and the cuckoo melody tune,
That too so rare,
For a short term vacation, in a vanity fair. 
Some emotional fools and roaming vagabond,
Can feel the spring air and reminiscences their  fond,
And cry for the past and the long lost love bonds.
Beside them no one dares to mingle,
Their soul with the colour of butterfly  twinkle.
No one cares to see the young green boughs,
Dancing in a frolic of crispy air that jingle.
All is there, in the air, except love my dear,
‘Cause love is now confined,
In another little world so secure.
Where there’s no hasty rushing,
No meaningless blushing,
No hassled waiting, no worrying restriction.
Love is just a ready-made parcel, 
At a press of a small button.
Love messages, e mails , tweets, face books ,web cyberspace and profile update,
Takes all the bothering responsibility, does all the necessary tete-a-tete.
No need for time taking arguments,
No need for extra commitments. 
Sometimes, meetings could be arranged, but
Oh! Never in public park or in a hopeless garden.
It could be in a shopping mall or a cool coffee  den.
The gorgeous and the grotty,
All gather at a V-day party.
Those who are privileged,
Share their love with diamonds and wine.
But for others, not a single grape,
Is sour in a vine.
Everything is taken for granted,
Just simple and fine.
‘Cause love can also be shared,
Simply free of cost on line.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Springtime Dawn

Early I came alive this spring morning,
Shorter was last night, I realize 
Gone were those hours of darkness
It’s time for the novice to arise

Looked on the nature with panoramic view
Spread was the greenery around,
In the palms of picturesque mist 
The season of spring could be found

Rambled alone along the street,
 Vacant was the boulevard
The silence of human kind,
Invoked in me a fanatical bard

Impaled by a ray of sun,
The universe was set to brighten
And in the universe of me,
Was set the soul to lighten



Details | Rhyme | |

Conformity

In the beginning of spring a path was made
In a shady green forest where lovers laid.

It connected the west side to the east,
And brought together Beauty and Beast.

The path was secret-only for love,
Quiet and secluded, with an occasional dove.

With secrets come whispers-whispers through trees.
Rumors were carried in the voice of the breeze.

Many supporters of this path of pleasure
Made it less hidden-something to treasure.

Blooming spring flowers made a nice décor,
And by summer, the count was even more.

With more and more sins having been created,
The path was forbidden and very much hated.

The rebellious cries in the starlit night
Gave all the wise men quite a fright.

No more eloping, or the mindless riots.
The path became empty; the forest quiets.

Many months pass, and winter nears.
The path is covered with gold and brown tears.

Defeated and hidden by the wisest of men,
The shameful path was never again.


Details | Imagism | |

Spring

The sun shines in a friendly glow while the birds sing mating songs, searching for that lost bond of intimate natural longing. Greenery illuminates the path through the garden, colorfully decorating the atmosphere with contentment. Leaves drift beatifically to their resting place in the aura of serenity; wisdom in the blossoms wherein dastardly royalty is usurped by inane benevolence. Such generosity cannot freely bandy about when originated from petulant systems of feigned philanthropy. Evidence mystifies the instituted kindness with otherworldly martyrdom prevailing over dynamically advantageous disproportion. A youthful sprite exudes sage harmony that listens intently to ruminated introversion and callously disregards obnoxious outburst. A twig snaps into seventy equivalent sections; equilibrium begets solitude among the predetermined assortment. Begin again and sweetly profound anew. Did it start? Nevermore, with the exception of a shift in the concept of causality's influence: kleptomania for knowledge and acceptance of besmirched spirits. Souls pine for an existential seed to spurt roots and permeate the dirty confinement. Cyclical imperfection trudges through sludge, almost cinematic in its unveiling. It is astounding in each fresh, yet repitious succession. A song skips lyrical lust and jumps to instumental amelioration: The symphonic glory of all encompassing, magnificent, eternal, ascending powerfully and synthetically descending, original, cooperative, and unorthodox love.


Details | Free verse | |

Fourteen



Classically gray day
pre Spring trees
cast in silouhette.
Sitting in shadow
side by side
behind the wall,
one of them
puts right
hand above left
knee of the other,
slides palm slowly up.
Heartbeats. Ticktock breath.
Feels flesh soften,
moisten, smooth.
One looks ahead.
The other eyes over,
downward. A parting of thighs.
Future waits.
Mysteries near solving. 








Details | I do not know? | |

Spring Special

Spring Special “ Life’s Magic Lantern” Is my latest book a Wonderful variety of poetry In many different poetic styles. Very inspirational and visual. Uplifting and enjoyable for Any age ~~~~~~~ “Just For The Pun Of It” In my latest Book, a collection Of funny and clean humor. All humor is meant in fun, Not to poke fun. Laughter for good health ~~~~~~~ “ For All Tomorrows” A wonderful variety of poetry, About nature, inspiration, love, Faith, dreams, wisdom, fantasy, Etc, written in different poetic styles For any age ~~~~~~~ “ My Candle Kept On Burning” A biography, true life stories from Growing up in Vienna during world War two, surviving many close encounters. With 46 pictures> ~~~~~~~ “Grooy” A wonderful variety of poetry, inspired Form the nineteen sixties living in Los Angeles when Love was in the Air. ~~~~~~~ “The Trojan Horse” A wonderful variety of poetry, inspired Form that tragic 9/11 day. All the books on a spring special sale. You can see the on my web site at www.poetvienna You can order the books at www.lulu.com Or you can get an autographed copy With a 15% discount from me, For more than one book there is A 20% discount. My email eric3337@earthlink.net I donate part to a food bank. Erich J.Goller


Details | Free verse | |

Spring Revives Nippon

If streets had beats,
Ours would be steady,
Diversity beautifies Mt. Airy,
The veins of life are blue and bright;
Here,
Nature revives our lives,
The grace of spring arrives,
I hear the children at play,
Today is pleasant,
Today is positive,
I feel so alive.


Details | Free verse | |

Remember

Remember....... 
when a flower blooms from the spring grass
when the wind whistles from the crack of the air
when the birds whistles that spring is here
when you fell in love for the first time
when the first snow fall in december
when life wasn't so hard
when you were a little kid

Remember when you learned to......
tie your shoes
ride your first bike
the alphabet
count from 1 to 100
work
make friends
love
rely 
understand
make the right choices
but the memory we learned with us all the time
was learning to Remember


Details | I do not know? | |

The Wonder of Spring Downunder.

Can you smell it?
Oh Northern hemisphere,

Let down your hair my
fair lady,Spring is in 
the air down here.
Your Winter is our Summer
Your Autumn is our Spring.
Seasons are celebrated more
so in the Eastern nations
it seems.

Time for the birds, bees and 
flower garlands.
Time for Spring-cleaning and
color streaming.
Time for mates,dates and
great races with laces.

A deep forest tree romance.
Time for the Lover's chase
through fields of long grass.
Time to let old sorrows 
pass and friends to do a dance.
Spring brings amazing things.

Best of all it brings a scent
in the air full of promise
of new things.
Spring...
it's a time to let go for new
beginnings.