Short Tumbleweed Poems
Short Tumbleweed Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Tumbleweed by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Tumbleweed by length and keyword.
WESTERN WINDS
Alaskan huskies
sense the breeze combing the park ~
tumbleweed hairballs
9/26/2017
I’m beauty born of breaking,
a rootless wanderer now~
rolling light through open lands,
teaching you to yield
off goes loose aged moss
nomad of sprawling bandlands ~
carried by the wind
Date written: 01/31/2021
Sad cacti envy
my nomadic mystery
wanderer
leaving no traces
of ever
having been
there
©9/23/2018
for LATE SEPTEMBER 2018 PREMIERE CONTEST
My response to something posted today. So ludicrous that instead of taking it seriously, or insulting, I laughed… out loud. I even faved it!!!
Eye roll, Dilly?
thorns +thistles are our curse,
bramble +tumbleweed,our chore;
likewise our lives,
streessed with strain,
heartache +pain;
'til resurrection bodies
in a twinkle,one day regain
Shallow roots, always thumbing a ride on a breeze
A natural born drifter, the west wind is your ticket
A nomad's heart and a gypsy soul
Form:
So much depends upon.
The tumbleweed.
Delicate and lonely.
The tumbleweed.
Lonesome and dead.
The tumbleweed.
Sanded and lifeless.
The tumbleweed.
We can restore.
The tumbleweed.
A tumbleweed Poet,
Mariah’s delight
The wind for a mistress,
the future in flight
A rambling Sage
with a heart full of why
Forgetting the past
—this moment defies
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)
Reckless tumbleweed
hurries across forgotten graves
of those who toiled through despair
and anguish
fighting drought and famine
depression and unemployment
heat and cold
locusts and dust storms
daily uncertainty...
Another tumbleweed has blown across the kitchen
I find it amusing and be damned, but I'm not bitttchin'
She's proven what she really is in her way of thinking
but I'll just laugh it off, and to my friends, I'm winking
He carries his life inside a backpack;
Tumbleweed rolling off beaten track.
A New Crystalline - Any Theme - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchen
Syllables checked at HMS
Date written: 03/03/2023
As upswept, a dune
And o'er deserts on
This deedness of feeling left you with in
Heart's own barren place?
"Harsh words, and burning
Of a cruel, fierce man
Yes; as such tumbleweed left me, therein.
Rootless. Blown apace."
How I long for the tumbleweed, rich prairie soil,
green stains on my jeans from the long, juicy grass,
the songs of the frogs, my father's deep voice,
my mother's goulash, my innocent youth
and a rain water bath.
How I long for my childhood, my magical past.
I tossed a poem away today
a crumpled wad of tortured thought
it shivers on a city street
trampled under passing feet
no longer has it eyes to feed
poetically a tumbleweed
broken, twisted, lonesome thought
wondering why it was tossed.
John G. Lawless
©8/3/2019
my mind drifts...a tumbleweed in the wind
blowing across open desert
bouncing over past thoughts
briefly lingering in prickly places
unsettled dreams with thorny consequence
aimless is the trail it wonders
spiny twigs left as memories fail
a trail of broken remembrances in hot sand
Magazine ads and newspaper obituaries
skitter across the streets
like tumbleweed in the desert.
Rims the size of carriage wheels roll by.
Everyone's holsters are filled,
even the children carry pistols.
The schools are ghost towns
but the saloons stay occupied.
This is the Wild, Wild West.
layered clouds like mountains.
blond and green grass blowing.
single tumbleweed tossing
across highway; Dakota wind
crossing its eyes, slamming
wide open driver's side door.
grinning on prairie grass
at illumination's waving,
and dark ponds’ rippling.
arriving in Sioux Falls safely.
Always depended on the wind to carry me where i needed to go,
never expected one day that it would not blow,
a tumbleweed without a home
needs a breeze to help move it along
'coz if it sits still to long,
a fire is ignited by the scorching sun,
and where there once was one,
now there is none
it's wrong
to want to kill
your muse?
drown it
like an unwanted
puppy
bury it deep, somewhere
in the desert
where essences rot, decomposing
the way they left your soul
dry
arid dusting with the tumbleweed
wherever the wind decides to move you
then SMACK, stuck on the grill of a semi
barreling on through
Rough, not proofread.
Rain on gravel is stone-soup.
An alarm clock leaves a bad taste of daylight.
Never proofread that argument.
Ha.
Depression is stone-soup.
With extra polluted rain.
From a tornado.
A tumbleweed as a side salad.
Depression bleeds old vegetable broth.
I’m a stew set aside for later.
Do you remember
the first time we met?
I do: it was on a warm
sundae afternoon.
There were gales
of mischief and glee
all around, each cradling
a clear plastic bag,
with a treat of tumbleweed
trying to escape the rim:
banana, toffee or
vanilla flavoured
cotton candy; or
were they woolly fibres -
similar to the strands that
intermingle in your felted hair?
Suck off
Ted’s teaching grandma to suck eggs
“Don’t patronise me lad,” she begs
"It’s a job I can do
SO much better than you
Just scarper on your asses legs!"
Gran whispers words I won’t repeat
Ted’s blushes as red as a beet
She is so worldly wise
And it is no surprise
This jackass won’t usurp her seat!
As you read this, I have gone.
After all, I belong somewhere in nowhere.
When you are by the sea, or on a mountain site,
Think of me, even just for a brief moment.
Then, my soul will be set free.
Don’t be sad.
When fairytale comes true, you will see me again.
Through a cloud floating in the sky, or in a leaf whistling by .....
I am leaving now; it is time to say goodbye.
Ether’s 88 where ya going
Behind her locked gate
Caught shy my freedoms
My baiting the idioms
My came from extensions...
Is it ever too late?
Going easy with tumbleweed
Boarding space beyond dreams
Rejecting all cultural greed’s
And creeds the world bleeds...
Is it ever about beauty creams?
Vapour your gate
It’s never too late
Open your mind
Be kind
Tumble me
Shine!