Best Suburban Poems
,
riddles N' rainbows paintbrush the day
summer's heaviness invades
rain circumvents geraniums
ant's N' azaleas dance through sidewalks
where tiny green grass creep 'neath weeds
to see sun seed grey with bright
frogs N' grasshoppers flop along
best friends
when storm clouds bend beyond old oak trees
boys N' girls skip rope,
Double Dutch N' such
up N' down the cul de sac curve
moms N' dads pretend everything's ok
when they've long since strayed away
from light N' love
gloves come off
when lights go out
they scream N' shout
the children barely notice
yet they'll feel the coldness N' cold shoulders
as it's gets colder N' colder
just not days N' nights like now
fuss N' fights have no place
right here N' right now
along these roasting roads
where ticky tack homes
crowd suburbia
where riddles N' rainbows paintbrush the day
summer's heaviness invades
as nature n' naïve children play...
today ,
~JSLambert 2014
Observe the bending of tree & flower.
To rages; a gale… in tempestuous hours.!
Rain deep in curtain, makes interplay;
Fresh night skies, await the sun in power.
Morn air stirs, Lady’s chinking; breakfast crocks.
Day-streams 'cross backyards, endless blocks..
Splashes as sound; tables, are scrubbed..
Cars all hues; white thru red, too! radios rock!!
Sprinklers now silent; birdsong calls,
Gardener’s clipping the creeper on walls
Children’s cries are echoes around
Fountains splash in foyers & malls!!
Gundog flushes the dove; white ahead!
Tools are re-sharpened in timber shed,
Lilac buds blossom! Midst threaded verde,
In abundant gardens, Man & Woman wed.."
© Joe Maverick.co.uk
To know more about this poem (well you know)
Chickadee flies low
looking for food he buried
runs into a tree.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Jan.28/2013
I haven't penned one of these in a while.
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.
A tree bends over
not to smell the sweet grasses
but to pick up leaves.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Sept.17/2005
Just having fun with words.
SUBURBAN DECAY.
First glance,
On a Dullton day,
Golden years,
First glance,
eyes meet
to dance.
Both so old,
Winter's fling
on summer's daze,
Languid heat,
even his dog trod slow,
shops half closed,
wishing weeds a'blow,
Suburban decay,
Going nowhere much today,
Rotted pavement,
Greet and meet,
Their last romance,
Beyond first glance,
withering blasts
from adult kin,
deleted to trash,
Golden oldies,
family misfits,
thought so mouldy,
No trouble today,
Going nowhere much today,
dawdling along,
in the Slowton,
Suburban decay.
He's the last of the suburban cowboys
At the end of the cul-de-sac.
Oh, he may still have that Western Channel
To bring his memories right back--
But those days of Roy Rogers and Trigger,
They're now just fading to black--
He's riding alone in his condo home
And that's the gall dern sad fact.
He ate those sweet Sugar Pops with ol' Jingles--
Watched all those westerns on TV--
Drank down all that cold milk for Hopalong--
Wore cowboy hats and boots with glee.
He had him a fine Rifleman's rifle,
Gene Autry's new cap guns for kids to see--
But he sure did hate all that real estate
That kept him from being free.
He may be the last suburban cowboy
'Cause kids now do the video game--
But in his mind he's still young Rex Allen
Riding over that painted plain.
But he likes to think the guys in white hats
Have not all gone down in a flame--
'Cause deep in his heart there still is a part
That seeks out the cowboy's name.
This is my peanut
the one down there is mine too
I know, I dropped it.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
Sept.12/2013
I figured I would take one of my many pictures I snapped while walking around the park and make a poem out of it. I wish I could post the picture, that goes along with this piece. It's a picture of a squirrel sitting on a rock, holding a peanut with its hands.
Well, get up on time,
See your days pass by.
Don’t ask questions,
To leaders of suppression.
Cause court is in session.
Obey this do that,
When you go out,
Don't wear hood or hat.
Ah, eat more Tyson food
City gave us a candle,
Ask for a meal, they might be in a good mood.
Lights, camera, action,
Fake your true reaction.
College teaching us
Basic subtraction,
Wondering if it’s all distraction
To what we love to do
Ah, sulfates in shampoo
Don’t complain about
Government voodoo
Whatever you do
Whatever you see
Don’t take it too personally.
Cause you might change the world
May do what they don't want you to.
Might abolish greed,
And you might uproot their evil seed.
Ads littered on t.v.
It’s bait for the hook
Crooks stalking my Facebook
Someone’s in a fight,
But people enjoy and look look look.
Well, Billy threw up
That corn syrup.
Read your schoolbooks and shut-up.
Rise for the anthem,
Rise for the pastor,
Labeled dumb for not
Thinking faster.
Sally resisted two faced authorities.
Cells are filled with innocent minorities.
Ah, preach it on hills
Lights flashing in Area 51,
They shut down my windmill
I’m faced with a giant and my ammo equals none.
How is my grandson gonna live?
If all he does is forgive
Those who take and do not give?
I’m staying home today,
To relax and pray.
Ah but GMO is in my fruit.
Saw a man trade his soul for a nice suit.
Hypocrites smile with snakes in their boots.
Ben came home with black eye
Then left his mama without a goodbye.
Mamas sittin on the porch only to cry
For her son who is now getting high.
Last week he was a victim in a driveby.
Read all about it in the news.
Single mother of none in suburban town of blues.
Little girl taken in an alleyway,
Policemen said they'll find her another day
Unless the parents have money to pay,
You won't be seein her face, hey!
Little girl grew up hangin by street corners,
Asking for one night for only four quarters.
Meanwhile in Flint Michigan
The water is polluted brown but they ain't listenin,
So the citizens are thirstin’
For some hydration.
Metals in their water
While the mayor counts his dollars
The governors apologize
But it's just more lies.
Read all about it in the news,
Truth is kept hidden in suburban town of blues.
It's Saturday in suburbia U.S.A.
Lawn mowers buzzing, chores underway
Planting and pruning, nourishing flowers that will bloom
To announce and brighten the month of June
Contented cats perch on fences high
Loftily appraising the collared dogs led by
To the dogpark, filled with Frisbees and tennis balls
A meelee of fur, a Fido free-for-all!
Teenagers holding signs - for a small fee, to support their JROTC
They will clean your cars - from grimy to shiny!
Kids on bikes and boards fly down the steep hill
Heedless of danger - transported by thrill
Farmer's markets - trendy veggies and jams, artisanal pleasure
Yard sales - for pennies on the dollar, you could discover treasure
At the local high school field, the softball game starts
Everyone participates - everyone plays their part
As evening folds in, grills are fired up
Smokey meat smells waft by - time to sup!
In suburbia U.S.A
It's just another Saturday
I can be your sister and your brother
Your husband and your mother
I’ll bake and clean and treat you mean
Be your quarter back on our own private team
I’ll prepare your meals and iron your clothes
Leave your supper on the table as I walk out of the door
Let you wonder if I really am at the store?
I can be your superhero and save your life
I can be your number one fan, your right hand man
Your enemy sinister and wise
You are my teacher when I cross the line
And I’m your master when you say your mine
Sell my body and soul to keep food on your plate
Let you believe no one has ever touched me like that
I’ll be your secretary when your too weak to speak
You can use and abuse me and make me feel cheap
I can be your very best childhood friend
Your nurse by your side at the very end
I’ll keep you sane as you lose your teeth and mind
Tell you the world hasn’t really changed outside
Place flowers in your hair as your body starts to fail
Cut your food into pieces when your hands become frail
Smile and tell you that all is well
When inside I’m dying and feeling like hell
Suburban life is quiet.
It's as peaceful as can be;
And out the window is the sky
And every type of tree.
The snow is white and blinding,
Though it's on the ground for days.
The lifestyle is deserving of
The highest form of praise.
There's lots of room for roaming
In the houses and the yards,
Befitting ode or sonnet
Penned by amateurs or bards.
Suburban life's delightful.
From the noise and crowds you're free;
But I'm a city gal and so
It's not the life for me.
In the grass, I lay my head,
a pillow soft, a verdant bed,
blades of fingers gently wrap
around my limbs, a loving trap.
Leaves rustle up their lullaby
as buzzing bees go buzzing by
a symphony of sight and sound
out of the grass life lives unbound—
While gold-laced suburban skies shine, it is wasted on the child.
As he pouts behind a picket fence, vanilla ice cream melts.
Watching the manicured lawns grow, I long to loosen the green.
Written 5/25/20 for Jenish Somadas’
Let the Pens Flow Sijo Contest
The suburbs have been a part of the lives of all Americans, especially that of the awesome Caucasians. It's been affecting the lives of all U.S. citizens since the day frozen TV dinners were invented. There's a lot of suburban communities that are outside the cities: suburban communities like those of Dallas, Texas (Grapevine, Arlington, Addison, e.g.), Edmonton, Alberta, Canada (Calgary), and other suburban communities. If only these people would just appreciate the the fine essence of fine suburban living, especially when he or she's finally away from the hassle of the city. It's makes everybody happy just thinking about the suburbs. But these people will have been easily bored with nothing to do, even though they're trying to do something fun. But despite the boredom and whatnot, there's a lot of places all families can do: things like going fishing, going to the park, everything. There's also a bunch of malls that everybody can go to, especially that of the Parks Mall in Arlington, Grapevine Mills Mall in Grapevine, and other malls in the suburban communities. I love suburban living. And if everybody were to move to the suburbs to begin a peaceful life, that would be very awesome.