Short Tarmac Poems
Short Tarmac Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Tarmac by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Tarmac by length and keyword.
like a round brass gong
afternoon sun burns in sky~
tarmac road steaming
dry leaves swirl around
canals and pools lie distraught~
lands yawn, mouths open
sun, ripe citrus fruit
sapphire sky flecked with white clouds
tarmac road steaming
June.26.2022
Summer Nature Themed
Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Long ago, once we were teens,
We all read "Mad" magazines,
Now we read of Peter Fonda passing,
Down the tarmac ever blasting,
Always in a "Sleazy Rider" cartoon,
Forever young, a classic lampoon!
There once was a man who'd hack
Just so he could keep track
Of one he adored
But couldn't afford,
If she broke through his tarmac!
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2018-04-21 15:44:00 (EDT)
All right reserved.
I’m weakened by the hazy heat,
But locals bustle in the street,
And all around me lively talk.
The tarmac melting as I walk,
I see the artefacts of Rome -
And guess it’s pouring down at home.
For Deb’s Summer in the City contest
Drifting like snowflakes, petals sift through air. White bubbles float down,
skip over stark, black tarmac surface, blown by breezes into piles, form
snowdrifts against sidewalks; pear trees green up, shed white coats of spring.
Icily cold the fingertips
of raindrops raise goose bumps
steam rises from the hot tarmac
as rainbow oil streaks spread
a colorful display of pollution
oozes through the crosswalk
©5/28/2021
Bite Size Poem 3 Poetry Contest
I lay down candles in the rain
knowing they won't light
someday the sun will shine again
and all the wicks will dry
then I'll light them one by one
make a tarmac in the dark
so you can find your way to me
this runway to my heart
I haven't built a house.
Nor spread tarmac onto roads.
I have not shot a brace of grouse.
Or planting veg in rows.
I am sitting on a comfy chair,
Which my old body embraces.
I become exhausted,
When bending down to tie my shoelaces.
Road rumbles
through wind roaring leaves
Shod hooves tap rhythm
On tarmac drum skin
Fresh washed and dried
in Summer rain and sun
A catbird and wren
Compete for center stage
As bush and branch
Sway in the waltzing wind’s
Life scented wetness
One leaf curled and hunched
hesitatingly crawls up the centre
of the sun lit country road.
The rest cling to the tarmac
watching.
I look at this world as it is
and see what could be
and once again utter
words uselessly.
conscience
....... driven
Driving down the black tongue
Desert highway
Mirages rise
Pools of water on the tarmac
Reflecting even the sky
Suddenly, darkness arises
Flatness on the pale horizon;
No time or purpose to slow down -
It rises, engulps the world
We move into it
It
Moves into us.
The past rises
grey and pink
amid rasping gravel
barnacled to chasms
sunken and sodden
clawing at hasty feet
that skate manically
and hurl bodies cruciform
onto mocking concrete.
The marred morn pauses
for a nanosecond
to ponder the maelstrom
of mangled flesh
and sirens.
The wind is break dancing with the trees.
beating a rapper’s song.
Limbs flail on the tarmac.
Rain flies like sweat from corn rows
across the expanse of asphalt.
A barrage precipitates
against the window pane
with the rata-tat-tat
of a machine gun’s bullets
as the front passes.
Last glimpse of Davao
Seen underneath the plane wing
Before its sun down.
Last time glued with you
Wearing those lovely smile
Is viewed from tarmac.
Last time I kiss you
My knees shaking terribly
As we said goodbye.
Last seen your photo
Tired tears rolling down my cheeks
As I feel asleep.
The colors shifted
Rainbowesque splashes
Smoothly flowing
The temptation
To touch, to alter
To interfere with
The wind’s oily brush
Directing the rain’s movements
Teasing the tarmac canvas
With its majestic strokes
Red and green flashes
Confounding the simplicity
Of a rush hour
Water color
Ripped apart a shadow
as the shreds
passed through my idle fingers
They turned to blackened wine
dripping on the tortured
tarmac
Its gentle mewing
whispered
is the abyss
ever empty
but nothing was there to answer
echoes arguing who came first
and the darkness insatiable thirst
betrayed by the light
Rimmed with red,
the sky emerges
from an alcoholic haze,
collapses on the shoulder of a hill.
As thin-lipped
as the letter box,
I brush a broken bottle
from the driveway:
shards of glass
that tinkle on the tarmac,
sharp as laughter
in an empty room.
First published in Bravado, New Zealand
do you want some fun
in a parked out car
or a video chat one on one
maybe a song
maybe several
maybe a kiss
life should be gentle
but its often not
it often gets hot
and your shoes start to melt
into the tarmac
when that happens
don't tread on your tippy-toes
just call my number
and ill carry you home
Last night the dream was this
We were more solid than possible
we sensed the huge solid planet beneath us shake us
we were falling hard
And someone said
The universe is being destroyed.
As i walk along the pavement
The ground is a kind of wavy tarmac
And my legs threaten to buckle.
Soon,my children
Sooon........
When the early mist
rolls down the Inntal
and tired rain
hits the early windows
and speaks in a broken voice,
splashes like tyres on tarmac
your small engine of breath
stretches under trapped linen
you are closed
and distant.
Late Autumn. Time for frost.
The warmth of Nairobi in January is gone now.
Here it's cold and drizzly, a savannah
of tarmac and metal jumbos before me.
My natural rhythms have given way
to this soaring erratic chase of the sun.
But I return to warmth—the desert heat
of southern Arizona, and the ardent glow
of my heart when I hold you in my arms.
The tantalizing housemaid
comes in swinging her waist,
to serve me breakfast.
But it is not the meal
she wants me to eat!
It is not the service she renders!
The frog in me frog-jumped
and my heart fled as a coward
to where I dig with pens
leaving breakfast stranded
as a pool of water in pot-hole
in the middle of a tarmac road.
Passing the PILL?
Brightly sun beats sweat out of men--
Abreast, they hold and pass
A bumpy brownness roundball
Dirty-sweaty bronze-gray-brown bodies
Walk, hop, run skate and walk
Pop, shot shoot the pill, outside toll
A hot brazen day on the Tarmac of ”Basketball”
8/21/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026© Imagism
Conflicting thoughts in my head,
None escape; left unsaid.
It rips through my organs,
Like tree roots under tarmac,
It's anchored down deep,
forcing cracks on the surface.
Those opportunistic storms,
Further weaken defences,
Cracks widen, highways crumble,
From the core, I implode.
Conflicting thoughts in my head
and more tears still to shed.