Suburbs Poems - Poems about Suburbs

Where the Suburbs Meet the Sea

“Where the Suburbs Meet the Sea”

I walked again where I began,  
past fences worn, where gum trees ran—  
but now the tide had kissed the land,  
and waves rolled in like time unplanned.  

The house was there, but changed in tone,  
a quiet shell, yet not alone.  
The breeze

Suburbs

walking the suburbs
breath takes the smell of gardens
unlike the city center

living on suburbs
the stench of the city's smog
oft spoils the mood of dinner

Dad Did Not Quit

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.

Blue Suburbs

Blue Suburbs

Like in Saint Denis
Day and night
The zombies cross paths
in Jersey City

Those who slam their dreams in eldorados
cross day and night
Those who have cracked them in the New York blue

They all have one thing in common
the empty look
the lowered head
the determined steps
away from the New York blue

Towards the same illusory goal
Executioners and victims
Of themselves
Drowned by

Suburbs

Beep, Honk, Crash

The city is in an uproar, but from the outside, it sits in

Silence

A series of  quiet calm buildings

Flashing with lights and holding the souls of millions in the palm of its hand

Like you and me

The fear of being a big city, of being ourselves because instead, we sit in 

Silence

Living in a

Suspense In the Suburbs

En route to school to get the kids
We had a real surprise.
Two cops and a dog were running
Through the lawns, before our eyes.

“Look, a sweatshirt!” one called out.
“They must have come this way!”
Some police cars came careening by,
A local law display.

The schoolyard parents, on their phones, 
Found out what had transpired -
A stolen car, a

Demons of Suburbia

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.

Suburbs

When I hear the voices of little children
early at dusk just before twilight comes
with their faces cloaked by
the shawl of innocence
waving goodbye to the setting sun,
my heart leaps for joy;
as I watch agape as they jump, chatter
and clatter with such intense vigour
on the open green fields beyond the moors
outside the curtilage of their homes
in the

An Angel Fell Somewhere In Suburbs

An angel fell
somewhere in suburbs
a little angel
blonde,
with blue eyes,
somewhere in suburbs,
in a well guarded site,
nobody working
no one in a rush
obvious too happy 
in this paradise...

One day
got bored
got bored to death
surrounded from people
without problems
people who live
other people's lives
people who don't care
for judgement day
and don't give a damn
for heaven 
or hell..

He left confused
heartbroken
that day,
and tears
from blue eyes
turned

Snow In the Suburbs

A cheap imitation toy
     Next a deep colored strewn rose
     In a house in the 'burbs
     At nighttime under heavy snow.

     A faltering streetlamp
     Near an unretrieved upturned trash barrel;
     A

Keys To the Suburbs

With the keys to a brand new car (a Nissan 350Z, a Chevy Corvette, or a BMW), I'll take it for a drive; I'll be driving on the streets of all suburban communities. And when I'm in any suburban community like Arlington, Plano, Richardson, or wherever, there's just no telling. I'm never going to spend

Sounds of My Inner Suburbs

A Flock of Seagulls, singing, wishing ( If I Had A Photograph Of You )
Blondie, reply with "Union City Blue"

City Boy, ringing 5.7.0.5.
Deep Purple, rocking with "Smoke On The Water Live"

Eagles, living " Life In The Fast Lane"
Foreigner, playing the instrumental "Tramontane"

Gerry Rafferty, walking down "Baker Street"
Heart, are just "Crazy On You" rocking sweet

Inxs, with

Suburbs

Days Are Days 
Theres No Stoping Them
People Walk And Talk Down 
The Streets
They Are Bowned 
To Meet One Way Or Another
Some Hide Behind False Cover
Some Like Myself Sit On Thier Roofs 
And Act As If They Hover
Most Flant Thier Loot
And Then Give You The Boot
And Then You Think Shoot
What Did I Do?
Thats some ones cue
They

The Suburbs

we were blessed
with the rhythm of laughter and companionship
born into a family that taught us 
loyalty and the joy of taking our time
we were mentored
in the school of good and right 
to speak our minds, but always with a tempered voice
to question authority but always be polite
to listen carefully before speaking and never lie
my memories

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