Short Streetlamps Poems
Short Streetlamps Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Streetlamps by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Streetlamps by length and keyword.
blue moon
standing
alone
in
a vacant parking lot
when
the
streetlamps
are buzzing like fireflies
on the 4th of July
Senryu
As sun pales
The old town looks haggard
Till dawn
Senryu
Streetlamps sadly knows
They only play stand-in roles
The sun is the star.
Senryu
When sun takes a break
Crossly hides behind a cloud
The day is murky
Dusk
Till dawn
As tawny
Night and moon wanes
Darkest dark; bats fly
Ghosts, ugly witches bliss.
Daunted and stark under lit
Streetlamps large black feline tail rise
On bittersweet brisk nocturnal stroll.
Prowling it yearns on spooky Halloween.
Broken gates, leaning on broken walls
Broken streetlamps, they all fall
Walking down the broken road
Running away from the broken fold
Hiding in the broken Manor
Behind the broken Banner
Broken Banner of a broken land
It's symbol was the white hand
Unseeing Streetlamps
Under the celestial awing
degrees of darkness
Stygian night or silky blue
Secret light seeps out of
manifold hurts
soon absorbed by night's hue
By the quay, lovers watch the light
commit suicide
in dark waters
Only the sleepless see this
and prowlers with knives
killing with passion
Winter winds do blow
bringing the bitter cold
snows piling up outside
quite beautiful to behold
A blustery winter mixture
rain then sleet and hail
icicles drip from the eaves
frost has covered the rail
Blizzard conditions explode
streetlamps, they are aglow
all has turned bright white
everything’s covered in snow
written 1-4-2019
Mercy, Mercy… Mercy me
A light, white frosting
of snowflakes
Upon cardboard and
old soiled blankets
Streetlamps and neon signs
Light…empty… unfeeling
and bone chillingly cold
Plastic bottles and wadded bags
Holey sneakers wrapped
In filthy rags
Tortured dreams and
Muffled screams
And piercing, numbing cold
…Mercy, mercy, me…
A summer evening
in the asphalt homeland
One more dance
one more sigh
the park is growing dark now
The benches are
fille with the resplendent energy
of youth
A grey haired man walks near the entrance
Cars pass by on the avenue
The streetlamps will
soon start to glow
Some songs are yet to be sung
She rides low and ghostly
close to the ground
giving the streetlamps
that dot the neighborhood
opaque ethereal halos
Where the skyline touches
her shrouded cover
she mystically wears
a peached-tinged glow
that’s pleasingly mellow
She obscures familiar
landmarks with her
misty morning dew
laying a damp blanket
on a Spring morning
She is the sunrise fog
and today I welcome
her beautiful unearthly
picturesque view.
Grateful eyes viewing
Deada in ashes fallin to lamar cold
Unsing it vanity in time concealed
Like leaveslight winglesssta
Listlessly lain where unburried we wither away
Lull inkfro fettered eternity
I call dull life what it is
Greycoated only dream
Hanging athwart the ending stream until sunset
Totell moreonce the story old
End under streetlamps invisible names in shame
Narrating oursins
Diligently like blackbirds cawing
Sweet nothingican understandin grant.
Throughout my life
I have listened to the night
as it spread
it's black wings around me
I have known the darkness
and it still speaks
to me when moonlight appears
Walking the shadowed streets
I have heard the rhythms
of the asphalt homeland
Streetlamps cast a ghostly glow
A pedestrian passes by
His footsteps echoing in
the cool autumn air
These images will fade when
the garish sun appears
But for now.....
Empty city
streets at 3 A.M.
A lone youth walks
towards her home
She staggers a
bit having drunk
a little too much
There is no one with her
and when she lights
up a cigarette
a shadow
appears briefly
on the sidewalk
It doesn't seem
that she will have trouble
Fortunately the streets
are deserted
Walking slowly home
She coughs from the cigarette
smoke
And finds her way home
under the shining streetlamps
A pool of water
left behind by the rain
reflects the light from the
streetlamps
the thin veil which
shielded us
from unreality
is torn apart
For the moment
we'll view the water
near our fragile home
Dancers on thin ice
we'll glide for a while
before the freeze
sets in
This pool is too
shallow to swim in
as we watch the
reflected light
we begin a journet
to the new
and as yet unseen
Form: