Streets Poems - Poems about Streets

The sun dripped gold on dusty lanes, Where bare feet danced through chalk-drawn plains. The air alive with shouts and glee, A world of make-believe and free. No screens aglow, no buttons pressed, Just laughter ringing unsuppressed. Remember taguan, hide-and-seek's delight, The whispered counts in fading light? The breathless chase, the sudden leap, To touch the base and softly peep, "Taya!" – the thrill, the...

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White Suits and Wet Streets, A Miami Vice Poem The pastel blur of Ocean Drive at twilight, a saxophone weeping through the humid air. White linen jackets catching the neon glow, shoulder pads sharp enough to cut the tension. Crockett's stubble, a permanent shadow, Tubbs' wry smile, a shield against the grit. Their Daytona Spyder, a white streak of rebellion, slicing through the...

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Bound by the Streets, where the poor Class prevails, With Cold, hardened hearts, some are born by jail With slicked-back hair and a comb in our hands, We Greasers survive in a rough, Tough land Through thick and thin, Hoods are roots in the ground, A bond like steel, unshaken and unbound No matter the odds, we won’t face defeat Born by...

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In a world where shadows stretch across asphalt streets, the modern man searches for his soul among dazzling advertisements, alienated, stripped of ancestral creativity, transformed from a creator into a silent consumer, his smile, a mask on a billboard, bearing the pride of a scentless existence, in a world where presence becomes absence, and essence is lost among useless objects, our souls are...

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Spring is here to stay For three months, hooray! More bluebirds are chanting More tulips are blooming More trees are growing And dusts are in the air. The weather is cool, not cold More houses are being sold More joggers run in the streets More retirees are warming the seats More athletes are at their meets And allergies are in the air. Spring is here to stay For...

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as I walk streets of my childhood For the one last time the picture show of the past plays inside my mind as I reminisce about the time when I wore a younger man's clothes It`s so easy to grieve for what once was once while walking along the streets of memory past ...

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NO FEAR OF 17 GANG MEMBERS VIOLENT OFFENDERS STORMED THE HOSPITAL AFTER HOURS INTIMIDATING MY DAUGHTER AND GRANDDAUGHTER IT WAS A LONG DAY MY DAUGHTER TOOK HER INFANT DAUGHTER TO GET HER FIRST IMMUNIZATION GOD ONLY KNEW THE GARGANO CRIME FAMILY CATRINA BELL AND CORRUPTION WAS LURKING TO KILL AN INFANT BELIEVING SHE WOULD INHERIT...

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Within the shadows of darkened lanes and alleys, There i dwell hidden from sight ,sounds and smell, Humankind knows me not walk away as if they are shot, My eyes see what goes on kicking a homeless man to death, Name calling those who dare to live as they want to, Just because differences seem...

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I cannot find her in the crowd, nor on the streets my steps know well, Only in the hidden corners of the mind, where dreams are born and die like butterflies, A face I have never seen, yet feel sculpted in my soul, As if she were part of me, written in the invisible lines of my deep...

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Heaven is a place for me and I am sure to go There's so much for my eyes to see The streets of solid gold The angels singing songs of praise Angels crying, the world's in pain I have a voice, my arms are raised Jesus please bless us all again...

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I wish that I don't go to jail tonight/ But if I go to jail I wish I don't do life/ And if I do, I'll be alright/ I just wish I do it right/ Sometimes I feel like a cliff hanger, can't hold on much longer/ But I'm still holding on, getting stronger and stronger/ Even though my days feel...

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Rescued and incurious as I dreamt to be In forever August where I’m still a child Wasn’t meant to be important, by a large degree But it did, and I am baffled why this changed my sight What I deemed as counted, weighted, and well measured Failed completely now, and all what is left Is that crooked smile over things...

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" Misunderstood by my own metaphors, traversing the ivory webs of your cunning twilight ~ which tried to mute those feminine laments within me, I've metamorphosed to a colourless caterpillar, yearning to become an inferno of transformation, where the chakras of spirituality can silently etch my scars...

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I would have sought some beautiful retreat, Remote from cities and the din of men, ~ Some tranquil shore where lake and forest meet By limpid stream or flower-lit, sylvan glen, And would have reared, where non could e'er intrude, A shrine to thee, O precious Solitude. ...

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In streets of solitude... A societal ghost ambles through A bustling concrete jungle unnoticed. A lost soul with sartorial handicap, Carrying life inside his overstuffed backpack. His face is weather-beaten; Reflecting wasted years, Loneliness and pain. His hungry, pleading eyes Dart from one passerby to the next. No one cares enough to approach, To find out his...

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