Pavement Poems | Examples

Traffic

We drive on the left
park in the driveway
and walk on the pavement
over here in the good old U.K.
They drive on the right
and on the parkway
also the pavement
over there in the U.S. of A.
It could be confusing to motorist
and pedestrian alike,
so where should we go
when riding a bike?

crack in the sidewalk

         in
crack     the sidewalk
nature's determination

~ city garden blooms



AP: Honorable Mention 2025


Submitted on June 25, 2025 for contest SHAPED HAIKU sponsored by JCB Brul - Honorable Mention

Pounding Pavement

Lights out, money down, homelessness is near
Cold night's, food light, no future clear
Search seek, long weeks, falling in reverse
Crash boom, life gloom, fight the curse

Depression sets, what's next, unlucky enough
Time still, hours to kill, calloused skin tough
Fears to reject, nothing connects, standing ground
Mentally fit, unable to quit, pavement to pound

PAVEMENT PLAZA

Evictions left and right
People forced into a plight
In a darkened tunnel with no light
Pavement Plaza 
Pushed onto the streets
No home and nothing to eat
It was a complex and a landlord with no heart
Some were Seniors and changes in family households
No means to make end’s meat
Humanitarian termination
Understanding in complex bills need to be paid
Meanwhile the evicted are stuck with no shade
Some had lived in the complex for years
Now people loss their preserver
The streets became their home
They are all alone
Pavement Plaza is no place to live
Especially living in the outdoors among the elements
Pavement Plaza being the evicted address
The evicted are now under stress
A Landlord could care less.

KASHI

She is declared a mental case
her legs are shackled tight
in the street she snails up and down

naked without food
she freezes in December
near the drain curls up

unnoticed by pavement dwellers
building a bonfire of twigs, papers
cast-off shoes and rags

under the bridge sipping tea
I hear the bell tolling at Rajghat
pilgrims make haste to catch train


--R K Singh

Dandelion

You can blame me for the wars
And eclipse me for the nation 
Close before me gates and doors
To prevent contamination
You can treat me like a fool
Talk to me like I’m a child
Who had listened to a mule
Born and bred in land of wild
Where they never read a bible
Maybe never use a fork  
Round the fire they dance tribal
Dances, looking folly dork
Their existence is illegal 
Their warships cross the ocean 
They are threatening the bald eagle
Poor bird sends warning notion
None of the above relates
To myself, and likes of me
Who are facing the same fate
Waiting for the blind to see
But as every pavement needs
Its own stubborn dandelion
I’m with decorative weeds
In the world of deadly iron.

wet pavement

rain dust and oil mixed 
carried on bottom of shoes 
tracked all through the house

The Unsupervised Stop Sign

Who says stop? Road signs, yes. But those who don’t like what is happening. The abused, the neglected, the rejected. Often ladies who don’t want to be fondled by the men they’ve accepted as dates or trysts. There are those that say stop when the drink is being filled and others who express their prohibitive word – STOP – when they’ve finally heard all the bellowing they can take for one round between them and a spouse, a sibling or a child. Stop can mean that a road, whether paved, dirt or vindictive, has finally come to an end and this is where the rubber meets the pavement, where the dog-eared finish meets the truth, where the lifetime meets with its fate and even, possibly, when the heart meets its beat and together, two are merged as another sign, pointing one way. STOP means wait, forget it, pause for just a bit. But, mostly STOP means to bar the way so that no one can say you came to a rolling stop because you know, without a doubt, you absolutely stopped before continuing on your way, discovering the direction of your destiny, your fate.

Just a sign to stop
Unsupervised it is not
Sojourn from the start

Pavement

The night was cold on the balcony
Of my old apartment complex,
5 stories in the air,
Gave me a great view of the trees.

The only light was the streetlamp
And the stars
And the moon.

And I wondered
How the air would feel
Whipping through my hair.

And I wondered
If the pavement
Would be a good pillow.

And I wondered if,
After my body
Touched the ground,
I would still feel alive.

I didn't take a leap tonight,
I didn't think of it two nights prior,
I don't think I'll ever jump.

So, I'll keep to myself,
These thoughts I have,
About the thrill of soaring.

He Is More Than Idle

He is more than idle,
Idleness his Idol;
A sloth without bridle,
Along sidewalks sidle …

Now begun to languish
And had been in Anguish; 
You can guess: Empty Tank!
His heart this morning sank;
Why won’t it in basement
For a rump on pavement?

A human to demote
Or send to camps remote;
One I would never quote
Nor in election vote.

Pavement Scaping

Lost in the city,
floundering alone
caught on the hook 
of an abandoned dream
fighting in vain
against modernity’s pull
living the lie
—of eternity’s pain

(The New Room: July, 2021)

Eternity On the Pavement

Eternity as his message lingers on
A message for the ages now and gone
The words scrawled out on the pavement
To be wondered or savoured as heaven sent

Does it teach us the pace of the world
And what we think or as our faith now held
And Arthur Stace provided Eternity for us
As he chalked out the word on Sydney’s pavements for him enough.

© Paul Warren Poetry

The Pavement Beneath Me

There's no turning back from where I stand, 
There's only mud, (and)blood, and ash, 
From the destruction, that erupted from the last ones heart,
Now the pain is perpetual at last, 
Do flea from me all feelings of guilt,
I didn't mean what I did, what I've done,
Yet encompassing me is a deep felt remorse,
That the strongest astringent can't overcome,
In the darkness lays heightened sensory,
Can you smell how her soul reeks of death,
She stumbles along with trepidation, 
Not knowing which step is her last.

Haiku Happening

haiku happening.
noon sun sizzles-pavement hot-
carp splashing in lake.

The Pavement Is Unkind

he eats my toe
bit by bit daily
as his dinner

• Short Pavement Poems
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