Best Tumbleweed Poems
The sun is setting in the west
While crowned in gold, the eastern crest
Stands sentry in its scrubs and sighs
Offering its sage advice
A single lizard darts about
Driven forth by searing drought
Towards healing waters beckoning
Seeking Horeb’s rocky spring
Among the endless rocks and weeds
Between regrets and sinful deeds
Above, a pale blue sky so clear
Who knew that Heaven was so near
And through it all, this wayward soul
Uprooted outcast, blindly rolls
By gentle zephyrs carried on
Comforted by desert psalms.
Quote: “Artist by nature, actor by instinct, poet by accident, and vagabond by choice”. --Don Blinding
I am a vagabond of heart, destined to roam,
My wandering soul finds solace far from home.
On urban trails, my footsteps stray,
And there, my friend, the tumbleweed, holds sway.
Together, we tumble, roll, and meander,
Through grasslands vast, our spirits meander.
Deer and fawn pause, bewildered by our fate,
As eagles hover above, in silent wait.
With no destination to call our own,
We tumble on, our journey unknown.
The tumbleweed, a companion true,
In solitude's embrace, our bond we renew.
A diaspora meets a diaspore, in chance's dance,
Two wanderers united, by fate's circumstance.
Thoughts of our origins linger in the air,
As we scatter seeds of life and care.
But soon, our paths must part,
As you tumble on, I'll hold you in my heart.
Wondering how our journey will end,
In cold showers or hot ambers, our stories blend.
Sad cacti envy
my nomadic mystery
wanderer
leaving no traces
of ever
having been
there
©9/23/2018
for LATE SEPTEMBER 2018 PREMIERE CONTEST
She was like a tumbleweed.
Blowing in the wind.
And when it was time,
to bring her on home.
She'd give a silly grin.
Time after time.
We'd walk along the shore
And when I told her I loved her.
She'd open up a door.
Let me in..'I said'..
I took her by the hand.
We'd both listen to sweet sweet music.
A coming from the band.
Like a tumbleweed.
Blowing in the wind.
She'd dance across the floor.
Swinging and swaying.
Like a wave against the shore.
She'd jump and shout, and spin about.
Then build castles in the sand.
She was like a tumbleweed.
Blowing in the wind..
Tumbleweed Poetry by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2009,2014..All rights reserved..
Oh lord hear the lonesome cowboys lullaby, singing beneath
The vast prairie open sky.
Hush, do they not lull the restless cattle to sleep, by a soft
Undertones sweet melody.
Drifting plains men, singing of the sorrows broken hearted,
And dreaming visions of their beloved, they've left behind.
Guitar strumming minstrels, of the fire hearth, accented
By the lone harmonica, playing off in the distance
Amongst a sea of cows, and horses.
In harmonic rhythm is this grassroots orchestra, as the fiddler
Strikes up his bow to join in, and playing ever so gently along,
To harmony's rhythm.
On the rocky cliffs mixed in the sandy dunes, the heckling
Coyotes, give an eerie ambiance, to this old western chorus.
Do these desert whyly creatures, howl in perfections tune,
To the wrangler's musical beat, of these wide grassy expanses,
That they all call home.
The rattler shakes it's tail in defiance, against the munching
Prairie dog, whom got away at the last moment.
Listen closely to the sounds of the meadow-lands, does not the crickets,
And locusts, add a natural flavor by their clicking and chirping.
Near the rivers stream, as the winds do blow, along the waters edge,
Another elements assent, is bestowed by the forcing of the reeds, to
Bend hitting them against the hollow log, causing a thumping's,
Drumming, to this uniquest of bands.
As twilight's distant starlight, flickering in the vast
Blackness above, these rambling souls whom wander so.
Down these dusty trails long journey, yearn for nothing
More than to know the quite serenity, of their home
That seems so far away.
Let your music fill your emptiness, for one nights
Beautiful dream, and remember the memory as if it
Were real, a vivid vision of illusion, and rest
In complete bliss, good night my young
Cowboy of the open sky.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Driving in the city,
I'm used to many things -
Crazy cabbies, honking horns,
Pigeons spreading wings.
In attentive texters,
Speedy messengers on bikes,
Nannies pushing strollers filled
With bored or wailing tykes.
Buses not in service,
Doormen whistles blowing,
Drivers who have no idea
Which way they should be going.
But one thing I have never seen
Until my current trip
Is tumbleweed go tumbling by -
It really made me flip.
Like a bunch of dancing hay clumps,
All this tumbleweed bounced by.
As it somersaulted on
You couldn't miss it if you'd try.
It looked comical yet scary,
Almost alien to me,
Not at all like on the westerns
That I once watched on TV.
For a city gal, I'll tell you
This was special, that is true,
But I hope I never see it
Roll down Second Avenue!
Suck off
Ted’s teaching grandma to suck eggs
“Don’t patronise me lad,” she begs
"It’s a job I can do
SO much better than you
Just scarper on your asses legs!"
Gran whispers words I won’t repeat
Ted’s blushes as red as a beet
She is so worldly wise
And it is no surprise
This jackass won’t usurp her seat!
The Kansas Tumbleweed
Dedicated to my dear friend Garry Pfauth
The canvas of his mind carries;
Like the wild prairie winds.
Painting brushstrokes of memories;
Like ancient unknown friends.
Colors of his spirit;
Carries him back to home.
Art or visions created;
From dreams that he was shown.
Calling out to him;
From a palette of solace.
Tugging and pulling him back;
To his mother's face.
Innocence of childhood;
A journey man's craft.
He walks with a paintbrush;
Along his life's path.
The masterpiece of life;
An unfinished work of art.
To return to his peoples;
And begin a new start.
And as the sun sets;
The mesa of his mind.
Shifting him on feathered wings;
To leave the city behind.
By: Darlene Doll Smith
Life as though a tumbleweed fragile and frail
Life as though a tumbleweed a terrible trek from A to B
Life as though a tumbleweed full of loneliness confounding
Life as though a tumbleweed two together but only till the wind shifts
Life as though a tumbleweed a strong exterior but really hollow nothingness.
Life as though a tumbleweed a lacking of purpose just moving forward.
Life as though a tumbleweed Spreads its seed to bring others into its torture.
Life as though a tumbleweed sudden is the end just when the wind stops.
Life as though a tumbleweed dieing so it can be forgotten.
Yep, another voice cries for attention.
It's the mark of sarcasm.
A chasm that's not of my concern
Windy day
weather beaten
tired
dried out
long grasses
worn
b r e a k s away
s
w
e
p
t
b b i g along
o b n
dusty streets
carried away
on distant
journeys
t
u
m
b
l
i
n
g
tur-
- n-
gni-
t i s t n
w s i g
c o n t o r t i n g
(hiding)
{peeping}
'barely noticed'
or #acknowledged
- tumbleweed
16/8/2013
Giant Mesa’s have gray,
Elephant- footed talus slopes.
That seem to be padding toward
The highway.
Tumbleweeds play along their toes
And one, bullied by the wind,
Flies like a hawk to land
Where tumbleweeds never see!
This one lands akimbo on the
Never-ending electrical wires,
It’s belly blazing in the sun
Noticing a view from above
Seeing anew the world that it loves!
This tumbleweed waits in wonder
For another blast to set it free
All the while, the others
are keeping watch beneath.
The winds of change blow
and the tumbleweed
risks the jump, files through the air
and lands with a skip and a bump.
Her fellow plantlets give her a wild name
Happily she rolls along showing them a game.
New paths, seen from above
New paths to new places
New paths for races
The game of life goes on
By Lydia Grace Brescia March 29, 2011
I'm just a tumbleweed
Rolling in the dust
Nobody notices me
But I just must
bounce
bounce
bounce
On the ground
Dancing, rolling
I'm stuck by a tree
The wind moves me on
I keep rolling free!
Tumbling, Tumbling
All through the day
Just a lonely little tumbleweed
With nothing to say
But stay out of my way!
Tumbleweed
I'm so tired of tumbling down that highway
Like a tumbleweed in the wind
I'm so tired of drifting away
Without the blessings of the canyon sun
A ship upon that desert sea
Sunlight so far away from me
Back where the mountains start to fade
Rolling hills rolling hills rolling hills start again, some oasis
A joker amongst these aces of spades
I'm so tired of a pointed thumb
Deadend beginnings and songs never sung
Words of hesitation upon my tongue
I'm so tired of what has never begun
This other journey back home back home back home
Wild apple blossoms soon take shape
And the ripest fruit start to rot
Buttercups for all my past loves
Even when my tongue's in knots
I'm so tired of giving in without the wild meadows
I'm so tired of concrete for a love
Four years of wandering and I've started to come undone
Come undone come undone come undone
When the sunset leads to the sunrise again
The canyon sun's first ray shines without end.
Johnny spent all his time hustling
Finally found himself in the lap of luxury
All the cash he had
Was so damn comforting
That somehow the clown
Had begun to think
That there was nothing he
Could do
That could bring him back to
That struggle he,
Knew well
But not well enought to keep
It all from crumbling
He'd forgotton
about all the stuff That he
Did
That put him in that lovely seat,
To begin with
All the stuff that he,
Claimed he was above
He ended up underneath
Left wondering
What coulda been,
To him it was almost like
It was all just a dream
Overlook a subtleties
And go from a humungus tree,
To Twisting Tumbleweeds
Now It'sall water under the bridge....
But not to the submarine
When Left to his devices
He got victomized
By his own vices,
Definitely wasn't living
What his best life is
Put him in a crisis, Irony quite thick
His main and his side chick said
Sianara
"I got better stuff to do
Than chill with you"
The two dimes split
Like 4 nickels, the ordeal,
Had forced him to, re-analyze his
Priorities And Re-Prioritize them
He had to admit,
His life was all out of alignment
His mind drifted
Constantly and took him for a ride that was difficult to exit
Stuck on the passenger side
Disappointed with,
His compulsive Decision making
Took way too many,
Devastating blows and hits
Rolling with the punches....
Someone must have broke their wrist
He tried to hold his head High
during those tumultuous times
But his thoughts were so heavy
It always sent his chin towards his chest
Now he's just,
Trying to let the lesson sink in
And hit the deep end,
So the next time he's put to the test
He can pass it while he's sleeping
& Rise From the Ashes
That he left as he slept
Like a phoenix
And stop doing things
Without Rhyme or Reason