Short Intersections Poems
Short Intersections Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Intersections by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Intersections by length and keyword.
Words Dismay
Disillusioned Sanctions Alow For One
Street Signs Brighten Forgotton Pathways
Roads Illuminate Intersections
Right or Left Paradox
Familiar Actions Guide
Form:
Never ever ask a starfish for directions
They're at the centre of five intersections
Confusion reigns
But they're not to blame
Their Moms and Pops invented genuflexion
words are...
thought-road norms with
a built-in radar as...
the met-a-four lane-gauge
for under standing bridges...
and the intersections that sent-tense
stans sand
...
lane gauges
The many intersections of life
obscured in complexity
Go left or go right
to stay or move on
The interchange of salvation
whose overpass eludes us
An escape of transcendence
— most never find
(The New Room: June, 2024)
As I'm here today, tomorrow a row away
Fibonacci conscious and novice of the fact
Eso-meta-psyche intact in static intersections
Theoretic physics listed
Spooky observer directed undetectables
Far fetched skeptic sketch initiated contact
Star Trek
at one
of the many
intersections
in the multiverse
i quickly
shifted my
car in reverse
having just passed
a parking
space back
in nineteen
twenty three
but i knew
it was a ticketable
offense to park diagonally
in a parallel universe
Form:
She came to a peaceful, shimmering pond
and took out her pearl-handled witches wand.
"Make me beautiful as the swan who slides
on your calm surface as she smoothly glides."
Since that day, at toll booths she doesn't pay,
and, at intersections, gets the right of way.
L – Little Larry Leadfoot
I – insisted on
C – careening around
K – key intersections
E – endangering himself,
T – terrifying other
Y – youngsters.
S – Sergeant Smart
P – persisted in
L – law enforcement,
I – impounding Larry’s
T – tricycle.
written April 6, 2018
Stoplight Fireflies
Stoplight fireflies blink yellow
over vacant intersections
Owls whisper on the mist
mime-like field mice listen
Soft surf muffles side step
clatter of crab legs
Feral eyes swallow
waning moonlight
A possum waddles beneath
blinking yellow fireflies.
©John G. Lawless
4/3/2017
Hue of blue scattered the sky,
the same sky you're watching
Face turned toward the sun,
reflecting the speckled hues of your eyes.
Music can silently be heard
travelling the splintered sky
and tickling the moon.
Vision is blind.
Purple line with green intersections
on a yellow background,
coated atop white blobs of emptiness.
But isn't black the color of sadness?
I have a wandering mind
my lines as I draw them
over the grid as I steer them
through intersections
I veer them
perspectives I see
when I peer them...
detecting truth
in the dots as I hear them
A gentle Awe
the sound of pause
soft claw.ing sings from my pen
when the lines are drawn
and my mind goes wandering...
About U
Imagination.
My artful perception.
56 signed.The Declaration...
Form:
intersections of highways where lives intersect
conversations with waitress beg more conversation
spelling the moment a morning spell
waking softly the countryside awakens
sun through window the calling of early sun
promise of a day filled with promise
beginnings rise from endings as the day begins
boundless hope visions of horizons unbound
stories countless stories
and passages and
enlightened journey to light
They come and go the same as lovers play.
With no clear rhyme or reason, truly stray.
Up to bat for both the good and the bad.
Knowing that what you have is what was had.
So, sit it in silence or have your say.
It’s clear that most will surely slip away.
More frequent than the latest social fad.
Life's intersections cross within a plaid.
Steadily bypassing of all delay.
You had your chance; there’s nothing more to say?
Longing to sway to the weeping of the violin
Even my shadow looks old
Pulled forward by the thunder of the piano
The keys ripple across my chest
Marching between intersections of limbs
Quivering with desire to move
To flow
With the air surrounding the instruments
The only time I understand my shadow is when I visit you
Give me some percussion to offer
Energy I can’t contradict
Float me to the very core
And transform me
A shadow
I want to get a Tom Tom
Or any make of Satnav
But my lady wife won’t hear of it
Not all the time I have
Her to map read for me
And give me vague directions
Saying left instead of right
At all the intersections
But it’s always my fault
When we take another detour
Though it’s her not paying attention
I don’t want to do this anymore
For she doesn’t really map read
She only reads her women’s mag
But that’s what I’m stuck with
A fifty year old sat nag
Form:
Paths
By Nathan Hannen
I have encountered many lovely people on the winding path of my life
At emotional intersections, On verges of my sadness, And the crossroads of strife
The traffic of my thoughts brings here nor there an illusion of despair
Many hearts unable to carry on, All broke down with their own cross to bear
At last my great journey meets the crossroads in all directions
My confused travel hindered, Like my want of love and its perception
The End.
Form:
A skein of Canadian Geese
fly above snow laden treetops;
Wave after wave crossing the sun
impelled by internal instincts.
Their discordant cacophonies
impel eyes on the ground upward:
young children pause their snowball fights;
Adults halt shoveling their sidewalks;
Motorists at intersections
crane their heads through open windows
straining to see their journey south.
Inharmonious honks fade away
Leaving anserine memories
and winter’s crystalline silence.