Short Midwest Poems
Short Midwest Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Midwest by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Midwest by length and keyword.
An ocelot came by Mama said.
This surprised me and my brother Ned.
In the Midwest?
An ocelot nest?
The idea filled us both full of dread.
snow
ice frost
icicle
January
teeth are chattering
February also
March has been called off this year
a new ice age in the Midwest
we will not be planting until June
temperatures this week
Monday through Sunday
72, 69, 58, 31, 28, oh-no, hot damn
Welcome to Kansas
No different than the rest of the Midwest
I can hardly wait for Saturday and Sunday
I had forgotten...
the sweet smells
lilacs in full bloom
freshly mowed grass
tulips and roses in bloom
springtime in the Midwest
the smells of childhood return
and the comforts I had left behind
Anther shamanic sunset in the upper Midwest
Magical brush strokes and hues that redact your mind to the test
Assisted beauty consolidating at the end of day
Memories of the heart that are created to stay
Chalkware was a 40’s hit in our small Midwest town.
The carnies let some win, when the gamblers came around
My aunt had a collection
Cherished them with affection
Put them in her dishwasher and mowed them all down.
This place smells nasty to me
Any place I’d rather be
Fisherman Wharf, yes, I know.
Fresh everything caught below.
Pungency of fish galore
Smell I truly do abhor
Shrimp tastes too fishy for me.
To Midwest I’d rather be.
a hundred degrees in Kansas
feels like two thousand degrees somewhere else
we cannot get comfortable
sweat is rolling down the small of our backs.
our dogs are lollygagging with tongues hanging out
the humidity of the Midwest is our undoing
That bitter Midwest wind attacks me
I sit on the bench and I shiver
My old farmer's coat protects me
A grand blessing which I cherish
I think of that homeless guy
He slept on this bench years ago
I think that he's dead now
At least I can go home
Anyone who is anybody or has traveled at all in the Midwest
Knows about Crown Center, its beauty is the ultimate test
They deck it out with beauty in the winter, honoring Christmas
It is a December sight that children from four states often like the best.
we have the Kansas City Chiefs
The Royals
The fountains
and as of yesterday, Taylor Swift
We have barbeque
pork, beef, chicken
We have arts, and Midwest culture
and as of yesterday, Taylor Swift
We have parades, festivals, art fairs
and as of yesterday,
Well, you know…..
Riddled with sand,
She walks toward the beach
Rocks scratch her painted nails;
The snow that clouded her mind
Slowly dissolves into sea foam
Erasing cold midwest memories;
Her feet edge into the water
She grins ear to ear
The ocean is now a reality
I thought I should pen-about hot dogs.
That steaming fragrance...ahhhh..
Add some relish and onions.
Or ketchup, maybe mustard ?
All beef hot dogs send me.
Chicago had the tastiest!
Memories of Midwest girlhood days.
I bet you have hot dog memories, too.
10/10/2021
Coming Home
My life has been generously peppered with love.
Like a glorious, Midwest snowstorm, sprinkled by God, above.
I have no idea, why, on this earth, I was so richly blessed.
But, I’d like to return to my heavenly home now, for eternal rest.
12/2/2021
a charcoal canvas
flecked with the glitter drops of a painter’s brush
looms above the endless Midwest plains
white-gold illumination
devours my eyes as I gaze upwards. . .
God is an impressionist artist
6/26/14
For the 'Bite Size Poem no.8' Poetry Contest of Line Gauthier
Fly swatter soup. Yum. Yum.
My palette is smiling. Mm Mm….
A rare delicacy, found only in the Midwest
If you live across the road from a pig farmer.
Best eaten in July, when the flies are biting.
Stomached by only a few.
Yes, it is exactly as tasty as you think.
Can I count on you at six?
Bring a friend.
The sun rises in a watermelon sky
Green leaves welcome the newborn light
shivering in the crisp air
Watercolor wings amid the blooming blossoms
flutter in the breeze
The verdant high hills and gentle ravines
awaken to the Meadowlark’s chorus in Nature's melody
Bite Size Poem no48 Poetry Contest
Missing that
Sultry ****
Of stained coffee
and stale cigarettes.
We thought we were
French, and perhaps as
Close to rebelliousness
as the Midwest would Allow.
My eye make-up made
me Alive and a woman
Stronger than you
And could ever be.
With those candles
And cement blocks
you penetrated me
And I was alive.
in one mere week
Kansas went from the nineties down to the forties
I am zipped into my footie pajamas with two pairs of socks
I had to trade in my sandals for boots
I am not putting my shorts and t-shirts away just yet
no telling what next week will bring to Kansas
this is the Midwest
our temperatures are bi-polar
Several semis have jack-knifed
The blizzard has made the air fog-like
Highway patrol has closed the interstate down
Electric cars cannot run in this weather
There is treacherous black ice
Many pile ups of cars, some injured, eight dead
Frostbite is waiting around the corner to set in
Tell me again why we live in the Midwest?
a day before spring
spring has sprung a mighty wet
windy winter storm
~
a blizzard blazes
the Midwest covering the
earth with a pearl white
~
blanket from 80°
to down low turns 34
and winter snow this
~
is the day before
spring has sprung winter strom falls
this Day before Spring
one hundred degree heat
confining and oppressive
humidity is holding me back
I feel tired and uncomfortable
traveling nowhere
because I do not want to get into a hot car
sitting on excruciatingly painful leather seats
driving in traffic with others who are uncomfortable
confined and oppressed, because this is the Midwest
and it is August, and humidity is killing us
a wishbucket painting of a midwest
sky in the evening.
an old rusty singlespeed scwinn bicycle.
folded mothball memories stacked
in cardboard.
and you can pass down three generations
in an A-framed wonderment.
lost to all but not to dust, where spiders play
keeper of all still keepsakes.
thier hollow formed webs catch
dreams in the night.
Form:
Four season state
Humid with frozen
Organic and dairy
To moving forward
Cows and fraccing
Cheeses and metal
Cranberry bogging
Furniture vendors
Lumber years past
Nature its center
Those unmentioned
Always remembered
Any native spirit
Without exception
Packers call home
Barging on rivers
Schooling Badgers
Big river brother
Paper and welding
Milling and ships
One Midwest state
Wisconsin working
silk dreams
weave a path
of ancient memories
leading me towards a shared destiny
with my ancestors
blessing me with visions
they dreamt
and now I see
~inspired by my interest in finding and walking 'labyrinths' around the Midwest...