Short Drifters Poems

wispy drifters~
playful artists
in august sky



posted on June 10, 2019...

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Drifters have nowhere,
as leaves go everywhere, they live.
A stroll on the side...

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the seas horizon
distant shores beyond… beaches
coconut drifters...

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Noon Showdown


high noon on a vacant street two drifters dance with death

©deborah burch
1.30.2013...

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One by one they drift away...
And now there`s nothing left to say...
Now they all go their seperate ways... 
Will they reunite one day...?...

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She must of been,
 a bonfire,
The way the drifters,
Drifted,
To her love,
And the warm dress,
Of her ethereal,
embers,
Upon,
The golden shore
Reynaldo Casison...

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Summer-swoon leaves, dyed and dying, windswept -
                   uplift of Autumn season
      for drifters and dreamers

9/5/2021
Kimo Form Old or New Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France...

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Vagabond drifters
meander on zephyr winds
   never questioning 'ere they rove

Kindred gypsy souls, 
undaunted by life's harried challenges
   xenophobia and judgement free
    ignoring yesterday's philosophies...

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Swan Song

I slid silently past
soft silenced down
laid in rest
amid fresh sprouted grasses
no viewing hours posted
only the few drifters
heads bowed
paddles idled
an homage
to nature’s beauty
spent.


John G. Lawless
5/28/2017...

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Long forgotten song,
Drifters find a home to rest,
Narrow road revealed.

Invitations here,
Penetrating barricades,
Summer rain unveils.

Your Arms wide open,
Mending scars from ancient days,
Faith has no limits.


By: Sabina Nicole...

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steering blatant revelries, ghouls engaged to death
chomping down streetlight openings in bitter stone
bow walled yew tree drifters, steps of many feet in
shallow parade to pew, the kneel cushion's betrayal
- how the shadowless crave… and the headless sing...

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I'm only steps from leaving
walking breathing
the roads length 
the worlds end 
escape from here
never listen 
never hear
regrets are in the past
no promise 
of a better life
drifters lost vice 
I do not run
I walk slow 
where are I go 
I will never know...

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The lake wind,
Is a lovely serenade,
For the iris gardens,
And the sundressed,
And moonkissed women,

The lake wind,
Is a lovely serenade,
For love,
And evening drifters,

The lake wind,
Is a lovely serenade,
For your earthy,
and exotic hair
Reynaldo Casison...

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In shadows of blue
clouds slow dance across the skies
Tender sunlight dream
follows mute, chronic drifters
round and round the blooming world

O'er shady forests
desert flowers and green seas
blithe homes and fast cars
Greeting fields of lavender
and redbirds of tomorrow...

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They come from many
miles away.
Visiting places.
But never stay.

Spreading knowledge
to the ones they meet.
For money, food,
or shoes for their feet.

Speaking of several
lands they’ve been,
and others they plan
to explore again.

Changing directions
like the wind,
on a long journey
that’ll never end....

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I see it all just passing by
quick as a blink from my green eyes
I see the distance, stretched out it spans
to get there we all need a helping hand

leave the past on the side of the road
footsteps more sure as we lighten our load
drifters take what they need and leave the rest
moving forward is always what's best...

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Darkness blooming
graceful moon vine,
boastful in striking radiance
as darkness stalks
daylight reclines,

Midnight banquet
petals devour,
stars reflect
commitment, entwined
sustainable in twilight hours,

Whispers shared
lost in bleak skies ink,
lantern flowers
guide soul drifters
reserved charm ~
timid sunrise winks....

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Though like cats the hours stray,
The infinity of our love will never be far away,

The mist shall dance upon its ballerina heels,
As the love and garden of your lips seals,

The midnights shall sing with blossoms reborn,
From the gypsies and drifters lovelorn,

The strewn flowers upon the veranda blooms,
In moonlights sweet havens and rooms
Reynaldo Casison...

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Unlike the Drifters and Smokey Robinson of previous years, 
I am unable to keep track and count the tears. 
They say a man is too strong to cry. 
However, crying is something I cannot deny. 
Ever since you went away, 
I have been missing you each day. 
The flame in my heart continues to burn, 
as I optimistically await your return.

inspired by another member's poem
...

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Let the commerce begin
in moral crimes.
You had been selling the death, daily.

The lichens,
had invaded the tongues.
Speech was blurred and words were gray.

Someone comes knocking
at the door in night. When I
opened , it was moon.

The potter will not fail you
once, writes a blood poem
for the drifters.

In the beginning there
was turbulence in the sea.
Now the boat sails on fins.  


Satish Verma...

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blow cold with warmth of memory 
for you be mine forever,
drifters write with hearts of stone... 
for time within his mind 
a trail of tears into the past, 
a guiding light behind.
believe the need ,more over the greed,
my soul is given freely.
No heart has ever known
drifters love ,be prone 
believing with fear 
solid as rock 
warm as a tear
as gentle the first  kiss 
forgetting to remember...

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With a spark to get the goal,
I set myself ablaze.

Discoverers are rovers,
Misread as directionless.

Trendsetters are drifters,
Misinterpreted as irresolute.

Innovators are venturers,
Misconstrued as frivolous .

What a falsified perception about me,
Of being an aimless wanderer,
Like a toy car striking wall and moving wayward.

I am on my way to my expedition,
With a zeal of reconnaissance ,
Voyager I am !!...

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She has the wisest lap in the whole blue sea, sending love round about. 
Drifters, sailors, and those who fall overboard readily seek her out
We never knew her name, but her corpulent figure is mighty and fine.
She has garnered an excellent reputation for helping all over time.
I have heard that she is the best listener in any ocean on this earth. 
Her empathetic eyes and understanding ways surpassing her girth....

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father time in my chest
keeper of its own pace
just skin and bone depth
influences time and space
what are we but drifters
 in an unknown

see truth in a literal
belief before my face
stars with no funeral
light will win the race
here i am, not for long
death starts at home

where is this leading?
which story could it be?
despite all my reading
writings the cup of tea
i dont need to know it all
as long as im not alone...

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This Empire of Strangers,
This City of Drifters,
A sea of people bobbing about-
Some new, some old, some 
Somewhat familiar.
Every night, we dream together,
But our dreams differ;
Everyday, we work together,  
Yet never with each other.
And though we dine in the same places
And smile and greet from time to time,
We are all in truth worlds apart.
Lost in our own thoughts and worries, 
We're all lonely in crowded company....

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