Pavements Poems | Examples

the most important

The most important

Fine drizzle over the bay, falling slowly and hesitantly
as preparing for a proper deluge  
Who knows, perhaps it will not happen, and the sun
will shine even if it is a day older
Dry slippery cobblestone pavements for the aged
Since it is Saturday, the ships' tugs are at their anchorage.
as they want to be nearer the shore
One vessel has run out of meat and potatoes, a stable
Diet,  the chief steward, had bought a lot of cakes 
because he was depressed at the time and needed
cheering up
To mollify the crew, he told of a famous woman who
said when the people were hungry, "let them eat cakes."
The crew didn't think that was funny and threatened
to throw him overboard
From the shore came a motorboat  loaded with pears
oranges and cabbage, but no potatoes and no meat
The chief steward was trying to swim ashore

Nebulous Horizon

I told the truth
and still, someone bled.
Silence would have stitched us shut,
a delicate, rose-gold lie—
woven into the wallpaper
of a bedroom left sketched.

I thought I was choosing clarity,
but the mirror fogs each morning.
Future—blunted, gray—
looms like wet brick pavements.
No signs, only echoes of footsteps—
taunting like the choices I regret.

This morning,
I climbed the roof before the city stirred.
The sun split the clouds,
warmed my skin but skipped my heart—
Guilt prefers to feast on trembling cold.

Tomorrow arrives in haze.
The city dyed a flowing gold—
nowhere to place my next step.

Crayon Box Dreams

My crayon box dreams, I've held in my heart
From when I was young to now when I'm old 
The ones I recall all do hold their part 
Memories of life begin to unfold 

Hopscotch in colors of chalk on pavements 
Back when I played with the kids on my square
Making hand faces at night in our tents 
To play late out at night without any care 

One, two, three spud- is a game that we played 
And so was hide-n-seek, and playing ball 
And there were games that my friends and I made 
Those were the games that I loved most of all 

So long I've lived and so hard it all seems
I've held in my heart...my crayon box dreams

paperboats hiku

      
                           ___ / |____
        ~      ~   ~  \_______/ ___/ | ___~   ~    ~
                ~      ~         ~     \_______/ ~~  ~  
                   ____/ |____
      ~     ~   \_______/ ~  ~ folded from daydreams  
                        paper boats launched on pavements~
                                 laughter sails away

Bound by the red

Our blood splattered grounds and our winding pavements.
Keeping my head up while I can.
Your blue spirit birdsong,
It comforts.
Just keep crawling, keep gasping,
Just suffocate it all in the red,
I stayed hungry for the thrill, because
Nothing was enough to quench those flames.
Fox-like footprints in our blood-spattered grounds
Are all I needed back then to stay sane.
Can you scamper away before you do what was asked of you?
Just keep your head up while you can.
Keep starving, keep bleeding.
Cheating.
Suffocate in the red.

With Spring Comes Fall

there is beauty in falling in love
like soft spring
the sun blazing in all its bright glory 
but not too harshly
the clouds adrift - patchy enough to let the light seep through
the trees create a wonderful view
even the flowers bloom differently

and when the fall comes
the leaves leaving their branches
almost flowing through the wind
to end up on these pavements
there is also beauty in letting go

When Summer Rain Came

“Unexpected wind and rain may come into our lives. But there’s hope that the downpour will wash away our soul’s dusty stains” ~ By Poet

On a sunny day, as pedestrians moved along pavements,
Rain pelted down all of a sudden, as a bolt from the blue.
Men went scampering to places of shelter, not to get wet.
Those who had umbrellas opened them over their heads,
Looking like a sudden sprout of colourful mushrooms.

Motorists pushed through traffic, honking horns.
Droplets of rain, like soft satin touch, tickled the body.
The intoxicating smell of petrichor rose from the earth.
Leaves on trees were washed clean of all dust and dirt,
And they were making a slow waltz in the passing wind.

Mind

Mind

mind took a deep breath
and pierced with light and softness,
it found peace and divine communication
between the earth and sky
then mind bloomed spring into summer,
weaved autumn into winter

mind found reason and meaning,
and it flowed like paradise water
and it cried silently and smiled
without words, just feeling
—
Mind lived in colours
slipping into rivers and
the spaces between our pulse,
it curved over ice-splashed pavements,
the sides of iron gates and rested 
under the maple, the oak and pine
to understand the song of contentment

Mind was always meant to be as splendid
as a clear sky, as pure as a newborn— 
it was always meant to stitch the world 
between us through an ordinary ray of sunlight
maybe even a drop of rain

if mind had its way,
its journey would never end,
it would smooth the wrinkle, soften the storm
it would absent the pain and the scar...
would live an eternity in love
and God would smile down on mind

The Street

Some of them are living ghosts,
they have buried their roots
under newer foundations,
or they still live anonymously
under a rock of poverty.

If you asked me to name them
I could not, for they all had names
too similar to mine.

The whole street,
all its doors and windows,
its narrow-broken pavements
have been obliterated by the nazis
or the iron booted rent collectors.
Postwar postmen have no addresses
to slot through.

In my mind
is a diorama of a history
that I missed by being born late,
yet the street knew me before I knew it.

Now the ghosts are dying one by one.
Those that left the street
to become pink and abundant
were happy to be alive for a while,
as I was,

until inevitably
the diorama turned into a carousel
of long gray sunsets.

In the Days of Milk and Honey

In the days of milk and honey
Milk was cheap and fresh
Honey costed little money
And I paid in cash
In the dream one winter night
I was flying low
In the blur of lamppost light
I was flapping slow
Over houses and then 
Swooping down I flew
Over pavements and again
Up towards the blue
In the days of wine and music
Days of happy sadness
Nothing seemed too much intrusive
In my eyes of gladness
Troubles, hardships and decay
Left their mark on me
But I threw them all away
Just to let me be
In the days of love and painting
Days of paper cup champagne
I was frequently escaping 
From each place I stayed
I was making lots of friends
And I was beknown
But all friendships had to end
In the days bygone
Days dissolve into thin air
Still I fly in dreams 
Over houses, over square 
In the dimmed light beams.

Your Rose, Love

Your petals wilt,
Your rose has resolute.

Fearing its completion,
Its ballet is sung,
Dragging its roots along
Your rose has begun withering.

Dirt covered masking
Leaves branching of torment
To drag your flower’s petals
Across the crimson pavements.

Your rose weeps and mourns,
Sorrow overwhelm –
Overwatering its cycle of growth.

Your rose wilts,
Yet you oversee its potential
Why must you carelessly love it?
Tend to its time of need, love.

Your rose requires – yearns
For love
Yet your love has become no more
Than a desirable response.

Winter's wetness

Glacial sent wet winds to chase out autumn radiance,
Snowdrift saints powdered white many gardens,
Leaving long flakes to peel open the morning ~
   Secretly smiling...

Morning emerged radiantly recuperating,
Silence silenced, replaced by stormy sunshine,
Winter's wetness welcomed wholeheartedly ~
   Singing for springtide...

Flaky flakes foisted frosts on plenty pavements,
Beautiful blessings brillianty raved a reprieve,
New natural warmth to sweet succour so sought ~
   Springtime sunshine.

scenes of love

Scenes of love

I love you, but you love the mirror 
thinks your nose is perfect
green eyes and rosy lips
your fragrance has a narcissistic 
allure, as you take the last look
in the hallway mirror before
leaving for the ball
Ah, the way you walk, pavements
adore you, rain shies away to
save your hair from bother 
When you cross the road, car horns
blast by themselves, white cars 
turn pink 
The sun doesn't burn your skin
makes it golden in the afternoon 
and glows in the night
Until one day, the mirror sees a wrinkle
years are ganging up on you
the enemy time is waiting in the wing
furrows  settle on your forehead
I love you, but the mirror doesn't love
itself, insults are remembered 
Get off the road, you silly old cow
your scent of youth has lost its aroma
still, you smile, sure of one thing 
I will always love you

AUTUMN SIGNS

greens turn to orange
boughs glow midst red and rust bursts---
transformation bliss

brown blends with maroon
foliage radiates warmth---
vibrant canopies

sparkling leaves scattered
pavements beam with yellow gold---
season’s rhapsody

harmony of hues
alive with shades, tones and tints---
God's artwork displayed*

*last stanza added after contest was judged
*Ecclesiastes 3:11 - He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.

September 23, 2024
2nd place, "Autumn Haiku - set of three" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin; judged on 10/8/2024

Sunday morning

Sunday Morning

silent rain fell at night
damp road
brown puddles 
on pavements 
mist hides tree tops
a miracle
sun breaks through
the last gasp

• Short Pavements Poems
• Famous Pavements Poems
• Best Pavements Poems
• Read Pavements Poems
• Long Pavements Poems
• Pavements Quotes