Suburbia Poems - Poems about Suburbia

Suburban resident pretense, a bleak uniformity. I grew up among the repetitious homes, isolated alienated, I wandered the conformity, the endless square yards, the dull feckless syndrome. Repugnant yet intriguing, a redundant singularity, fabrications of fortified, fraudulent self-deception, blocks and blocks of suffocating, vapid vanity, I endured the bland boredom like an endless inquisition. All history, all memory was recklessly...

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Can we talk over dinner? I’ll be composed, Salad a middleman On orange china. I won’t stare daggers I’ll only look gently You won’t upset me You won’t cry Tablecloth a barrier Of polite normalities No last words. No hard feeling. You’ll drift atop Jello molds, An angel in suburban hell. You won’t tell me You quit your job, And our haven Will remain bubble wrapped....

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a blue chevy impala basks in a suburban driveway like a beached whale it oozes gases and black oils its seeping white walls beg for rubber movements little boy inside the house sits on a pleated couch he watches the setting sun through a screen door fat mother stirs pudding in a wall-papered kitchen smoking father works a tv guide...

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Paterson- sunshine in suburbia by americus Paterson, a poet, he's charming and he knows it Paterson, a man, he's got a life with a plan Sunshine in suburbia, searching for euphoria Paterson drives a bus, and swears a censored cuss Write me into a poem, sing me a hymn Make my life want to begin Now while Paterson's life may be mundane,...

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when I get to the city I am on auto pilot if a murder happened I would be no witness I do not see people when I leave the suburbs I walk for blocks in crying tennis shoes wishing I worked somewhere else Have you seen this person? A detective could ask He could put me under a spotlight It would help me...

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Lights moving in time with the music at a mansion in a neighboring town Vibrations pounding through the stereo bugle hark you feel it escalate then drown projectors casting shadows of colorful hew raindrops falling to the sound windshield covered in dew and moistening the ground wishing to share that moment with everyone thereof but business interferes bestowment and it was aggregated by the one I...

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We won't ever be anybody's red caped tin horned hero. We seem local and suburban. All pleased. Published in Poetry Almanac - Summer 1974...

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Lawn furniture flavored ice cream served in moxa cups Candied eyes of freshwater bream pickled bushdog pups. Pig pizzle wrapped around a stick grilled upon the deck Woven rope with cat head and brick hung about your neck. Marzipan violin bowed by a stoat badminton played widdershins A toast of poison without antidote barefoot on needles and pins....

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Wavy grass carpet, Manicured green lawn stretching To horizon's end....

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Trust is the thought's Face to face We dare not say For fear to pay the repercussions Our relationship's Are not up to Built on marshmallow foundation's We bare no relation To the people we seek To cover from the world In suburbia...

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We are drawn here for the festivity, to glorify His name. In our crimson best, presents wrapped gaily, to glorify His name. Joyous revelers and their dutiful handlers arriving. Doors open, we are welcomed heartily, to glorify His name. Presents not expected, but the mistress will not feel neglected. Material offerings stacked neatly, to glorify His name. The High Priestess, same...

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I don't live near the ocean, But I long to hear the waves. I don't live near the mountains, It'd be cool to see the caves. To far from the city lights, To be considered hipster. To far from a working farm, To get a working blister. Dwelling in suburbia, Sounds of mowers fill the air. The only lights are porches, No farms or caves anywhere. Ode...

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Your love is real the love you feel. Your love is great the love you make. Your records are on fire its your desire. Take me out tonight and go wild and crazy, or be fat and lazy. So I played some Doors and saw some whores. So I said goodbye and they all must die, fool. So dig...

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Electric Bleeps and bloops Powerlines buzzing as the Sunset going behind the roofs O’lovely neighborhood lost Facades of families And degeneration Of cultural paradigm No crime Just a hollow husk town Consuming the lives o’the poor folks Sigh sigh but alas The community dies slowly highway burning over the hill and man I’ve got way too much time to kill...

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"Know yourself and you will win all battles" – Sun Tzu Jesus of Suburbia, He who hits rock bottom with timely persistence, gets HIGH on the burning cross of Drunken Hostility.. -THIS IS NOT A RELIGION; St. Jimmy knows that Monday's belittling unfolds into Holsten-Pilsner-Fastbock sippin', and something like seven-day drug binges... ----> Still he awakens in a pool of piss, LISTLESS, and because the pills are gone, Jimmy claims to have...

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