Short Roads Poems
Short Roads Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Roads by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Roads by length and keyword.
Wagon roads in mist
Leading down from the crossroads
Out of sight in time
Lost memories no longer give
Journeys that no longer live
All Roads lead to Rome
There is a well known saying
That all roads lead to Rome
But I don't take it literally
Because my road leads me home
in a yellow woods
i chose the path less leaf strewn
as beauty still clung
reds and oranges mixed
browns swirled in last minute
as autumn breathed
The Halloween roads
That run in all directions
Like Howling Alley
And Cemetery Circle
Take you from the telling sign
Russell Sivey
I know this road leads SOMEWHERE…
It came from SOMEWHERE too…
Though in the middle,
it feels like NO WHERE
Unless I am NO WHERE in the middle with YOU
As I walk
These winding roads
I look down
A leftover of
Childhood
When I stepped on a frog
Its guts came out
Ever since then
I watch out
Where I put my feet
New shoes to walk through
many paths trying to find
the right one to choose
~long roads with difficoult stones.
Thorny bushes to avoid
when dark roads lose their way,
a falling sun turns grey,
where are the speaking sticks to show the way?
hello who's this!... lost in night, with all roads barred to go.
Driving down withered roads,
Off in the pond sing the toads,
My heart races as I turn to the left,
In goes the car, the pond will collect,
My car, myself, and other bodes
Turtle crosses
Not bosses road
Squashes too soon
Before moon's shine
Some goon killed him
In light dim died
Quickly fried, she
Cat dived on plate
When all roads lead to Rome,
It is hard to get home.
When all roads lead to Rome,
We become accident prone.
When all roads lead to Rome,
Our minds are no longer free to roam.
Walk with me
Down these roads unknown
Where every face is familiar
But no ones known
Lights in the attic are on
But no ones home
This roads home sweet home
For this rolling stone
Country Roads
Sandy, soft, sacred soil savored
Calm, cool, canopied, carefree place
Picturesque painting a panacea
Luminous, luculent road lumbering home
The roads behind me veer
off onto disappointments
and dead-ends
Dare I revisit them
tempted by the neon flash
of welcome signs
I
Roads Go
Long Or
Won't Do
Too Short
II
Dirt roads
Misnomer
Dirt tracks
Better
III
Tar roads
Our English
Asphalt; Paved
Your's. Ours?**
NOTE: ** Maybe Macadamized; Adam's Fault (not Eve's), LOL!
On a sunny day,
we went to get a dogie.
Driving the back roads,
Excitement was in the air.
Would our new pet be waiting?
We looked all over,
surprise ~ there sat my angel,
heaven had touched earth.
In the far distance, you can see dust cloud boil in the air
You know it is someone on their way, seems like years before they arrive
Like life, sometimes a slow and rough ride
Form:
I asked the sky at night,
where is the star that once was mine.
The sky replied in dejection,
the star that once held your affection,
now lives in the street of your heart,
where road are yours but path belongs to her heart.
"No matter where the troubled
roads of life take us -
No matter how far down that
troubled road we travel,
There's always a detour, that
will lead us to a better place."
Poet: Ken Jordan
April/2014
Matrika: progression
Malini: destruction
Both ending delusion
Unveiling, a slow tease
Awakening, release
When lower desires cease
So simple is the way
Let not attention sway
In stillness, as we pray
07-July-2021
When that cold winter comes
and the chilly wind does blow
best stay indoors
as it's freezing down below
but enquiring minds need to know
who ploughs the roads
so the snowplough man can drive to work
and plough the snow?
roads are my memories
their dust my mind
their mud my body
hell and heaven
are my highways
winding roads
abandoned roads
route-less roads
these roads
are a travelling poem
that has yet to arrive
at any destination
but here and now
August 1965
Laying hot tar and sand
Swarms of mosquitoes
Broiling summer sun
Warm water tasted cool
Low pay, nasty job
No job, no pay
Endless stretches ahead
Laying hot tar, sand,
Sweat, and what was left
of my self esteem
On Georgia roads
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood"... Robert Frost
Standing at the threshold of decision
I stood once, twice, many times observing?
Stepping forward I saw all I lost in life's collisions
I ran graceful and unchained just as life began curving.
Laboring in obscurity…
my pen a vagabond
Hitchhiking through my consciousness,
my thumbprint worn and gone
Wishing past the hoping,
spitting into the wind
All roads end in the desert
—darkness my best friend
(Dreamsleep: June, 2019)