Short Cabs Poems
Short Cabs Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Cabs by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Cabs by length and keyword.
Sue’s bad hair day, ripped dress, tight shoes, drop rings,
parents share our cabs, fluff vows,
cold lunch, wonderful night
as it came down
no cabs around
i jump
and ran into a lump
it was a lover bump
it was a good thing
and love pain
WE WERE
LOVER IN THE RAIN
ugly lights don't cry,
taxi cabs drive fast
thru puddles of rain.
I wait for my demise,
no breathing is required
in a sensual death.
"I ran behind a bus", said Ben,
“Saved a good five dollars again”.
“Oh fool!” dad exclaimed,
“My son, I’m ashamed.
Chasing cabs, you could’ve saved ten!"
How automatic things will be in future
The thoughts lead me to a dazed stupor
Cabs driving on their own
Pizza delivered by a drone
Humans scarce, we’ll talk to self or computer
NOW AND THEN
Nothing has
changed in
Times Square.
Still bustling
for cabs
or hustling
the pedestrians.
7/7/21 Picture This 2 - 7 Lines Poetry
Joseph May
Chosen Image: #2
buses cabs subways
how I get around
no subways are here
so buses will do
for six days a week
cities subways
when I am there
cabs cost too much
subways are quick
hitch hiked some
younger days
now buses
bus fare
one way
stop
I am grateful for having had the opportunity this summer
to travel with my family to London and Paris…
and as we road the tube, in cabs, atop a double decker bus,
in a punt upon the Thames,
the Metro, a boat upon the Seine
and in an plane across the ocean….
I was happily reminded how
traveling with those you love
is and always will be…
poetry in motion.
never followed a course
my life could have been worse
received sarcastic jabs
and rode plenty of cabs
called many names
and played some games
when all is said and done
and my life's almost gone
judge my actions
no distractions
my heart was always pure
though my faith wasn't sure
evil and good
my neighborhood
What's waiting after death?
I won't fear final breath
sit down and sit
until it happens
but her mind is
on playing in the
rain with a yellow
umbrella
she gets carried
away with the
wind and in
her mind
she is
flying
so far above
that the cars
seem to be
ameba as
do the
cabs
yellow cells
following the
city's blood
stream
streets
but
the red
green and
yellow signals
trigger in her a
Christmas tree but
she still hasn't gone
Form:
The water’s gray and so’s the sky
And all the buildings passing by
As well as cars and people’s clothes –
The gray’s contagious, I suppose.
Yet two exceptions pierce the gloom,
Intentionally, you’d assume –
The yellow of the school bus fleet
And taxi cabs with fares to meet.
Though just for fall, some golden trees
Join forces on these yellow sprees
To brighten up a dismal day
When (mostly) everything is gray.
Daniel JR search where do the wind goes
Well you do
I want a kiss from you
Twice softly and sweetly Mon Amour
How will your father coquettishly do
Came in if you have a chance, something pops up- thanks for trying
Cabs are yellow silver and blue
White Grey as your Eyes
Be good no lies
Us is Us
Yours Heart Mine Is
Be,
There's no fines for
AMOR
only in mailing
I am stuck on thy beauty
and classy Catherine SR nurturing
All Lucky
All
. for public domain
I know her through the cheap hellos,
shared taxi cabs, subways below,
strolling in the fresh fruit aisle,
shared bench for lunch, a sidewalk smile,
but not like I knew my sisters,
their blistered toes, and bathroom woes,
heartaches from a stolen kiss,
and sorrows from our dead parents.
We old neighbors have been pleasant,
civil, helpful, ever present,
with eyes where joy is often absent,
lives and love somehow misspent.
nostrils filled with the asphalt rain
sewer systems and whirlpool drains
shadowed sun downs by one oclock
flashing lights and city cops
wailing sirens in traffic rush
taxi cabs and commuter bus
when will all the chaos stop
suicides from building tops
drive by shootings hit and run
abondonded buildings home for some
underneath the neon lights
murder death kill records heights
when will all the madness end
a vicious cycle starts again.
More coming
That's what he said
In a brief exchange
we had this morning
More than eleven thousand
of them scattered in the city
Commissioned to drive taxi-cabs
for the rest of their lives
More coming
He speaks with disgust
And intense anger inside
As if he was waiting on orders
to carry out a brutal slaughter
More coming
The holy month intensify his rage
But he held his head down
uttering strange sounds
hundreds of them with eyes fixed
on the barren ground.
An hour ago
At the embassy
Fleets of steels sighing
Protracted protocols prying
Exodus of seekers of greener pastures murmuring
Hanging hangars rusting and resting
Busy bees bullying deterioration
Officials posses with officialdom
Cabs crowing
Heads heavy with thoughts
Eyes lacerated with tears
Wives in sack-cloths
Sympathizers gulped down dry gins
As the blue bird landed from the air,
The remnant of his remains
Descended from above
Musa,
Butchered in the street of London
Awoh Awoh
Form: