Short Commute Poems
Short Commute Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Commute by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Commute by length and keyword.
It’s
not just
the commute
that I dislike; it’s
more about the fact
that it keeps on bringing
me to work every single day
i once knew a girl named sloot
who liked to travel by chute
dropping into a town
she would leave with a frown
due to the awful commute.
It wasn't so bad this morning
But I arrived an hour early
If I'd left later—
even a few minutes?
Only the clock will tell
After all
It's only my first time
each ant scurries
the melodrama plays on
directed misdirection
the constant hurry
nor rhyme nor reason
rules the roost
when whirl and bump
are what's produced
As I traversed beneath the early morning glow-
With cotton candy skies illuminating the beginning hours--
I found my heart calling to your in the midst of the beauty,
Begging to bask in its glory with you by my side.
The train was stuck;
The tracks were icy.
Weather cold;
Conditions dicey.
Stops and starts
Made travel slow.
Patience was
The way to go.
Home at last,
Relieved but spent
And wond'ring where
The hours went.
Totally ruining a peacful commute
ready to drive my car into the pool
after standing still for 3 hours
facing 10 miles of gridlock, a disaster
feeling like screaming
I want to rip my hair out
carefully I count to 5 hoping to calm down
How I longed to be free;
Free from the daily commute and the office grind.
To be me.
Retired at last,
A daily list my wife will find.
It’s vast.
That’s how
I’ve lost my mind
Now
How I longed to be free.
A daily list my wife will find
Now
anywhere without you
aint that pretty
but i keep my peel on you
cold and wet in new york
the wind like a proverbial knife
crowded train
queues at the bus stop
pulling down the ball and chain
Unreal faces behind newspapers
commute at your peril
Cardboard and cold concrete;
The makings of my 'home'.
Soggy socks, blistered feet;
My harsh daily commute.
Pleading with outstretched hands-
I'm loved?. or obsolete?
* 'Poetry is in the House' Poetry Contest
* Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
* Entered on: 11/6/2025
I
Wet sky, I
Must greet morning
Rewards my eye
Flying beings swarming
II
Birds, bats, locusts?
Suddenly swarms sundered -
Sundered by Comorants
Usual places wet
None for drying
Winged variety morning
Commuting to feed
As employees do
Routines go on
Beautiful -- wet, too
.
Is anyone really watching
as I commute on my way
to Philly
As Poe
with pen
like the tornado wind
I pull you in
I capture your pose
I imagine...
all of you buckled
in my
throw
Mourning Commute
would be phoenixes
masquerade in Gotham
snowbirds alighting
outrunning the cock's crow
leaving their respective nests
cold
huddled in subterranean tunnels
awaiting the next iron worm
three piece sardines
breaststroking up steam
in relentless pursuit of false promises
Bedazzled
by the beauty of night:
you gaze at trillions of twinkling stars.
Mesmerized,
you commute with the stars:
feeling like you're connected somehow.
Overwhelmed,
the sanctity of space
encompasses you: body and soul.
Miracles
are rarely in plain sight:
one exception is the universe.
Thy wish makes me jubilant enough
Only to reach the cloud nine
Last evening being so tough
You did not receive tweets mine
Dwellilng in a city chaotic
Has a toll on my comfort
Daily commute and chore hectic
Has taken away my forte
But life is a mystery
Even in its misery
All one needs to decode
To ride on success road..!!
Can I Take My Vote Back?
Hey Senator!
I love giving you smack
Cause you’re always
Showing your crack,
Which makes you
So easy to attack.
You lack any
True character,
You just run with
Your fearful pack.
You have affairs
Behind your wife’s back
With a lady in Spain,
What kind of commute
Is that?
Okay, can I take
My vote back?
DIGRESSIONS ON BILLBOARD HAIKU
Sick of the commute?
Early morning pavement gray as masticated
breakfast sprinkled with broken glass.
Brakelights driving you crazy?
Blinking red Morse with its Monday
bad news: Accident Ahead.
Take the train and dream.
And off beyond the shoulder, fields of grasses
growing free, whatever the mind can see.
The morning may be messy
For the people who commute,
With highways slick with ice
Before the snowplows clear the route.
For those who will be driving
Some anxiety’s at hand,
‘Cause Nature may disrupt
The travel that you might have planned.
Alternatives start floating –
Do you heed or take a chance?
The young may risk it but the wise
Bow down to circumstance.
Softly sneaking off for solace
in the warmth of your embrace,
chasing stardust peace in dreams,
drifting both in time and space
Am I rising but to fear,
or fearing but to rise?
Cloaked inside your arms of down
I'd shirk each day's surprise
I serve this endless sentence,
in the cozy cell that's you
the warden daren't commute it
unless stardust dreams come true
Lost
My golden earring is lost, gone.
A symbol of my working past
Sophisticated, young.
Days of suits, neck bows;
Dressing for success;
Simple, professional.
The times of being a part of happening things,
The rush of keyboards and telephone rings,
Passed, oh, so fast.
Now jeans and sweats in silence,
Only the roar of other’s commute;
Goodbye, golden earring.
Daily this tweet enchants me
And I become texting spree
Never feel that you're alone
I'm with thee like a drone
Worried about thy committed chore
And stressed work field more
Soon I expect a promotion precise
Thus making thy commute concise
Let's hope for the best my mom
For you are divinely calm..!
I wish I were there with thee
O my lovely sweet mommee..!!
The ape had stood erect that's all!
And a sophisticated brute
Had but advanced! Only nimbler
To and from his cave commute.
Civilization's false impression
In designer overrall!
Only more scent-agreeable
Drags therein its bride, that's all.
The ape had lost some hair, no more!
A dispute with grunt and club
But in the linquist's damning hands,
Truncheons, torpedoes who rub!
A worthy pursuit, though not a commute. That it's even achievable, some would dispute; but those who do, deserve a salute. Calm and solace; peace and poise; even silence is involved; and if obtained, it will last, not spoil, and will not be dissolved. Sadness will always be a bit pricey, but happiness is still affordable.
08102017TGPSContest, Rhyme Battle: Happiness, Juli-Michelle; 4-line max
When I, a black man, invisibly commute
Passing every sight as good as mine
I must be sensible to the solemn truth
The mantle of my soul by God's design
Is made absent by accidental blindness
But because, like me, earth's still in darkness.
Let us then embrace face to face
For I'm outwardly the all of your race.
Night provides a bridge across my skin
Love provides a door for you to come in.
The idea Is my alarm.
Inspiration is my coffee.
The thoughts are my morning commute.
The story is my work.
The pen is my voice.
The paper is my argument.
Imagination is my lunch break.
The plot is my boss.
The characters are my conversation.
The love is my relaxation.
The edits are my overtime.
The silence is my ride home.
The day may be over but
I am a writer. And my work is never done.
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