Best Curbside Poems
Just a regular curbside puddle,
It really wasn't that big.
But it had the look of an ocean,
To a sweet little puppy named 'Pig.'
"Your paws might touch the water,
No chances that you will drown."
Pig looked at his master- all crazy,
And was frozen like ice to the ground.
"It's only a wee-bit of a puddle,
You'll easily make the grade."
But Pig wasn't ready to listen,
He stood there and was very afraid.
On a leash Pig's brand new owner,
Tried in vain to nicely persuade.
But Pig just wouldn't listen,
To pleas that his new person made.
Again -"it's only a little puddle,
You really won't get very wet.
You could see Pig was thinking,
"Wets wet! And I'm not ready yet."
"But the water is only a trickle,
If you try you'll see you can wade."
No matter all the sweet talking,
That pup just couldn't be swayed.
The pup felt a tug on the leash,
The water was coming too near.
So Pig started his squealing,
And squealing was all you could hear.
Discouraged -his person relented,
And lifted the scaredy-cat Pup.
He bypassed the wee little puddle,
And lost, by picking Pig up.
I wanted the end to be funny,
With a moral to find I could spin.
Yep, a guy with a pup he'd name 'Pig,'
Has a pup that is smarter than him.
Categories:
curbside, dog, fear, humorous,
Form:
Light Verse
Hope can transform dreams into
tall towers of steel and glass.
But technology breeds greed;
and no one gets a free pass.
Hunger stalks reality;
armed with the pain that it brings.
And edging insanity;
puppets dance in tangled strings.
Within high society;
curbside beggars don't exist.
For they get swept out of sight;
with just enough to subsist.
The homeless frighten the rich,
schooled in the art of deceit.
For they fail to understand,
why people live on the street.
Wealthy folks safely nestled;
don't worry about the poor.
And yet, the tragedy is;
their hearts were designed for more.
Categories:
curbside, august, community, culture, feelings,
Form:
Quatrain
Th’ night sky dyed a berryblue hue,
Beneath th olive river blackening,
Her breath rich with grape nectar,
Her hair a nebula of lime & pumpkin.
Orange peels by th curbside,
Yellow pulp by th curbside,
Old Greek sidewalk lemonade.
Rose apples sitting with th china pear,
Sweet lust littering her secret ivy thoroughfare;
Moonlight pink upon her blushing bosom,
Th Universe in trapped in her ocular dew,
Cosmic sailors lost in her white coconut ocean,
Pleas forgotten as she raptured through.
Lead her not to temptation,
For she has found it herself;
This is th Love Fruition.
Categories:
curbside, love, lust, universe,
Form:
Light Verse
end of Haviland
stilled kickstands & spokes of Schwinn
our teen shapely thighs
after school books are returned
and mind wanders down the road
chill in Summer heat
orange & vanilla twist
creamsicle in cone
the yield of sweet and tincture
melting on curbside tongues
Categories:
curbside, memory,
Form:
Tanka
Adrift, a-meadow in spring color,
Daisy, daffodil, dandelion,
A signal flag wrinkles and flaps with motion;
Awash, a-drizzle dazzle of rain.
A girl floats to the tides current
Happy to hale the freedom of her new skirt
Happy to wave in high air, so pretty.
Cotton dyed, swishing to and fro to rise
With fall and jump jump each skip
The streetlight beacon beckons:
Twilight light approaches, roars
To subdue the bright colors.
She rounds the sound, the curbside corner
And runs down the street,
Smiles line porches as “happy sailing”
affirms kind porch-side mothers
Twilight meadows become bedewed
Not by Marching drizzle but rather
Drain down streets to storm-drains in April fashion
Thunder cracks and the skirt
Safely ties herself down to the home-harbor
Breeze billowing flapping skirt:
A-ruffling akin to spinning in a springy summer field
Categories:
curbside, fashion, sound, summer, youth,
Form:
Free verse
An open umbrella
blankets
two sleeping transients
Categories:
curbside, night, poverty, rain, sleep,
Form:
Haiku
A herald announced the joyous news that a king was to visit my hometown!
Jerusalem was abuzz anticipating seeing a royal king wearing a regal crown!
I could visualize his majesty arriving on a prancing Arabian steed,
Or being borne upon a lavishly bespangled camel of exceptional breed!
I'd also heard that kings were borne in magnificent coaches gilt with gold,
And that with great pomp and blare of trumpets their procession was foretold!
This I wanted to see so I joined the milling throng and got a curbside seat!
Thousands of jubilant celebrants lined both sides of the city's dusty street!
"Here He comes!" shouted the mob! "Hosanna In the Highest!", they cried!
I strained my neck to see a real king in purple robes, the nation's pride!
The exultant crowd spread their cloaks and waved palm fronds along the mews,
Shouting, "Hosanna To Christ The King! The promised Messiah of Good News!"
This king, this King of Kings, rode a lowly donkey as His means of transportation!
I was told that a prophet Zecharia said He'd ride one for His triumphal celebration!
As He passed by I fell to my knees! He looked directly AT ME!, smiled and waved!
From that moment I became His disciple - straight paths for me He hath paved!
The man next to me said this man, this King, was born in a stable cave,
And that of His power to heal the ailing, blind and lame He freely gave!
Unlike earthly kings, He even promised eternal life for a sinner like me!
From this day forward I'll forever follow that good man from Galilee!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
curbside, faith, inspirational,
Form:
Rhyme
Pecos Bill rode herd in the vast forlorn.
His quiet Paint gobbled buttered popcorn.
A tornado, in a fit,
Came for a whirlwind visit.
“Paint, meet Curley. His back I will adorn.”
Bill grabbed his rope and threw a loop with hope
And saddled the whirlwind so Paint could lope,
Leisurely grazing along
While Bill sang a peaceful song
Though the twister used top spin, Bill could cope.
Whirly raced north swift as antelope might.
Picking up barns, tossing them left and right,
Heaving a freight train five miles.
Bill hung on with joyful smiles,
“Almost beats chasing roadrunners at night.”
Bill rode that twister into a broke nag,
That lay city curbside limp as a rag,
A sadder, but wiser storm.
Where his horse Paint, true to form,
Whinnied by the nag, wanting to play tag.
A jolly sheriff saw Bill ride in view,
He chose at least three tickets to issue:
Parking in a tow away;
No emissions valve that day;
Driving a twister with no license too.
Tale Tales 1 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Jeff Kyser
Date Written: 3/14/2022
Used Poetry Soup Syllable Counter
Categories:
curbside, adventure, animal, city, horse,
Form:
Limerick
You,
pretty -
used to be.
Pretty moved out,
kidnapped Youth as well!
AGE, now lives in your house,
she forced your hope-chest curbside.
How dare your birthright forsake you?!
No. Pretty and Youth are not to blame -
what is given will be taken away.
Susan Ashley
July 15, 2017
(June 27, 2017)
Categories:
curbside, angst, hurt, loss,
Form:
Etheree
Once proud, walked tall
Effortless, but now I crawl
In wheelchair’s thrall
Bold voice, now drawl
Old leather unfolds
Topped by dust and cold
Centered, as I hold
To a fixed frame
Where my leg lame
Wheeling to spin
with speed of a Push ring
Rusty tune that sing
a long gone song of spring
Once a pair by side
longing to guide
behold with pride
but now at curbside
anxious, wait for a ride.
Oh, glazed eyes that sighs
I will rise and wipe my cries
tears up from the skies
made me not, but wise
Categories:
curbside, anger, emotions,
Form:
Rhyme
Curbside romance
Picture in a magazine
Leering at a beauty queen
Short shirts and dirty mack’s
Waiting for red light perhaps
A furtive glance
Curbside romance
Fake smiles through
Red violent lips
Faded faces worn
By times constant grip
High heeled whores
Strut like flamingos
On their way
To another nights work
Woman in a window
Peering down the street and
Meat in a butchers shop
Waiting to be eaten
Internal musing
Categories:
curbside,
Form:
If you want to keep
your expanding
civil liberty weight down,
we suggest you try the alphabet dictator soup
It’s demagogue-approved to keep the
public scrutiny town hall gavel pounds off of you
The letters F ... R ... E ... E are not in the can,
and radical talk chowder is totalitarian banned
You best clam up, if you know what’s healthy for you
But the split-lip pea soup tastes great liquefied,
if your jaws need to be wired shut
Fat ideas of human rights
will get you shipped to Siberia
on a dissident Weight Watchers bus
Sugary sweet intoxicating wine of independent thought
will get you government-issued gulag cloth
So don’t get drunk on too much First Amendment talk
Here’s something else you might want to try on the menu,
our peppery, Black Boot fascist veggie stew
It’s guaranteed to give you a mean kick
Only 100-percent propaganda tofu
is offered in this meatless, bicameral dish
No harmful voter allergens to alarm you,
and it’s debate-free healthy too
This totalitarian menu will slim your political weight
down so fast, it will shock you
Just watch what a few rubles a day can do
I know you still have cravings
for some red meat democracy
Need I remind you: this is a
media roast-free, autocratic dinner party
You will be amazed at what
a few influence-peddling dollars will buy
But please be advised:
Stay away from any amended second helpings
of the rich, decadent General Custard pie
Aw, shot ... it’s double-barreled delicious,
but it got major health concerns,
no Krispy Kremlin lie
Too many Constitutional calories
in each serving of this American dish
We urge you ... implore you ...
demand you not to give it a try
Those who taste too much sweet liberty,
tend to kick their totalitarian diet to the curbside
Categories:
curbside, metaphor, political, satire, truth,
Form:
Verse
forgive me master
while you at your desk
took private your thoughts
i dared trespass...
approaching silent
i slipped your mind
in the rays of sun
i came from behind
the master
and I at his desk
...forgive me...
Ancient stokes do see
hands on the brush
playing cards of kanji
writing on my skin
in the After of Life
blood of my ken
saying Time...
comes twice
this is the wHere
ink knotted to ice
tHere...
I saw the cobbler
fixing his shoes
and a chef was shot
but he knew it was true
three men smoking
knew this too
then a baby cried
in the heart of dogfen
and grandmothers dyed
turning boys to men
walking....
into Dragon's den
bare feet in streets
sleeping curbside then
"... we're all in ..."
said the Master's pen...
"Hot hot!..... oh!"
it's the Master's plot!
know! from my neck
it was writ! to show!
show the scrit
of the deck! it's true!
shhh... he said then
"...the card dealt, is u..."
Categories:
curbside, life
Form:
Poor Santa could no longer stand with pride,
I am just too old for Christmas he cried;
but, what about Christmas eve,
and all the toys I should leave ...
Amazon can deliver them curbside !
Categories:
curbside, christmas, fun,
Form:
Limerick
A herald announced the joyous news that a king was to visit my hometown!
Jerusalem was abuzz anticipating seeing a royal king wearing a regal crown!
I could visualize his majesty arriving on a prancing Arabian steed,
Or being borne upon a lavishly bespangled camel of exceptional breed!
I'd also heard that kings were borne in magnificent coaches gilt with gold,
And that with great pomp and blaring trumpets their procession was foretold!
This I wanted to see so I joined the milling throng and got a curbside seat.
Thousands of jubilant celebrants lined both sides of the city's dusty street!
"Here He comes!" shouted the crowd! "Hosanna In The Highest!" they cried!
I strained my neck hoping to see a king clad in purple robes, a nations pride!
The crowd spread their cloaks and waved palm fronds along the mews.
Shouting "Hosanna To Christ The King! The promised Messiah of Good News!"
This king wore a simple gown and rode a donkey for His transportation!
(A prophet, Zecharia, said He'd ride one for this triumphal celebration!)
As he passed I fell to my knees! He looked directly at ME, smiled and waved!
From that moment I became His disciple; straight paths for me He has paved!
The man next to me said, "This Man, this King, was born in a stable cave,
And that of His power to heal the ailing, blind and lame He freely gave!"
Unlike earthly kings He even promised eternal life for a sinner like me!
From this day forward I will forever follow that Good Man from Galilee!
Robert L. Hinshaw
Categories:
curbside, easter, uplifting,
Form:
Rhyme