Midwest Poems - Poems about Midwest

freezing rain in the midwest

midwest freezing rain
nebraska and iowa
natives fear her wrath

This is the Midwest

You cannot exist unless you have a gun
This is the Midwest
You might want to kill a deer
Or an enemy
Or an enemy’s kin
Or an annoying grouse

Get your gun
Let’s practice shooting
We can shoot out windows
Or doors
Or people’s cars
This is the Midwest, we will be forgiven

Everyone has a gun
We all wanted to be sheriffs back in the day
No

Living in the Midwest

Several semis have jack-knifed
The blizzard has made the air fog-like
Highway patrol has closed the interstate down
Electric cars cannot run in this weather
There is treacherous black ice
Many pile ups of cars, some injured, eight dead
Frostbite is waiting around the corner to set in
Tell me again why we live in the Midwest?

Midwest

Outside "Clio" history lays 
simply on cobblestones ways
Between its bricks just stays;
an hourglass, measuring days,

It sees the beauty in each worn stone,
a story etched, with a life all its own
Within the cracks, it settles in layers so deep,
there's no need for grandeur or fame or sleep

Symbols of freedom, pure, simple, and true
The Omaha stones shared

ice age in the midwest

snow
ice frost
icicle
January
teeth are chattering
February also
March has been called off this year
a new ice age in the Midwest
we will not be planting until June

Let's Go Back to the Midwest

robin family is annoyed at Spokane’s rainy weather
They get a yellow umbrella and stay together
Let’s go back to the Midwest says the father, loud.
Yes! The wife agrees, looking at a new storm cloud.

They huddle together, bracing their feathers in the wind.
Mommy, Daddy, Zin and her twin brother, Finn.
At the end of the storm, they decide

Give Me the Midwest

I readily admit I am a country bumpkin
But I am no buffoon
I am in this to build others up
To help others win
To raise up my neighbors and my friends

We hear about the coastal towns
Both east and west coast have terrific reputations
Their people are more sophisticated, more stylish, chic.
It is fashionable at both coasts to be

Midwestern Prairie Morning

The sun rises in a watermelon sky

Green leaves welcome the newborn light
shivering in the crisp air

Watercolor wings amid the blooming blossoms
flutter in the breeze

The verdant high hills and gentle ravines
awaken to the Meadowlark’s chorus in Nature's melody



Bite Size Poem no48 Poetry Contest

Midwest Nest

Here in my suburban acre of Ohio;
I feel the generations,
the hungarians, the irish and germans,
the dutch, the blacks, the shawnee.
We are not a melting pot,
we are birds and critters brought here
by wild, wild winds.
I am a grackle
with my own grackle language,
I expect you who live in the same tree with me
have your own way
of making

Midwest Twists

We accept tornadoes here,
expect them, tick them off
as they pass by like demon dreidels.
Usually they are not a big deal
unless they are.
Spring culls its little lambs
in all sorts of ways.

The murder rate in Chicago
climbs ever higher
until the city prays for more snow.
Folks in their privileged trailer parks
get rolled like dice.

A pressing need for body bags
creates

Ice Skating In the Midwest

Let's go ice skating, like when we were kids!
We skated indoors at the Chicago Arena.
My leather brown case with peacock satin
interior,
And gold locks that shined like the morning sun.
Those figure skates, polished were my pride and joy.
The Arena was huge and had its own organ.

So proud we were to skate to real music.
I was so unsure of

Haiku

The magnolia
The frontsman of the spring
The pear is jealous

Midwest Monsters

Dark tornadic skies
batten down the Oz hatches
twisters by the score

Down Home Hillbilly Hootenanny

Jumping Jehoshaphat’s! It is a down home true hillbilly hootenanny!
They are jiving and whirling, and the accordion is a twirling! 
I run to find my square dance dress which no longer buttons.
My boobs are hanging out like Jane Russell’s but I do not care.

The cousins are in town, and with them that Arkansas whiskey humor.
Grandma

Midwest Girl

In the Bible I have pressed
	a photograph of her
and on its back the words she wrote
	said she'd always remember me

on a Greyhound bus I rode
	down roads that endless seemed
through a countryside that never changed
	and every small town there could be

every town had a school
	or it had a church
where we would stop for the night
	and another

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