Transit Poems - Poems about Transit

Draconian measures promise to hobble future SEPTA transit riders one of whom would be this married sexagenarian, who recently acquired his Senior Fare Card courtesy Trump's big beautiful bill dog days of summer will experience big beautiful chill videre licet courtesy slated budget cuts intimating a worse fate than getting root canal, whereby militant dentist woulf blithely recount his days as oil rig employee when he/she uttered...

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Not a slogan nor advertisement Fair exchange Commuters listen and wonder Poetry words coming to life The ride with readings from actual Poets Poetry of all kinds sharing beyond compare Moment in write of Poetry time Through traffic of rush hour It becomes the assemble Poetry readings commuter sit Inspiring and uplifting fit Words that never quit Discerning gift Direct craft Something never done before Words after words no can...

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Whispers in Transit In the journey of our lives, we traveled far and wide, On paths to various places, destiny is our guide. She was calm, serene, with a humble, Godly grace, From a service she had come, with peace upon her face. We spoke not much, for words were few, But actions whispered louder, a silent cue. Her name unknown, yet...

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stars & stripes banner over police transit desk - railroad sparrow hides...

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Bending a breaking point rupturing time Eons of history skirting the line Paradox native our true D.N.A. Truth as a concept forever in play Yessing and noing transfixed in between The jester in transit all canons demeaned Freeing the moment the first wedded last a twist to the turning —where memory contrasts (Septa R5 To 30th Street: August, 2023)...

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.....Transit...... When the zombies call on you And there's nothing you can do You can run and hide But time is on their side Corpses crawling You start bawling Running too and fro Where can you go Cause their coming after you And there's nothing you can do Buy a ray gun But stay on the run Hope your neighbors got your back Cause the zombies are...

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TRANSIT GLORIA turning surreal blooming   imaginative yet vintage & compelling in loftiness an influx of euphoria triumphal   yet unbowed such contemporary polemics in joyful shrieks an embellishment to  reward & reinvigorates yet a contentious dream   obscure & curious in an endless procession THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input...

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Death is a journey that’s taken alone Released from the tempus, our spirits to roam Death is a servant indentured to slave A Master beyond —new Angels at play (The Book Of Prayers: February, 2021)...

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Rapid Transit By Miracle Man August 30, 2020 My mind is like a playground, where endless thoughts skitter rapidly. Pining to be heard they appear unbound, but few morph into words, to be displayed in ink. When the bell rings and recess ends, most vaporize, because they stink. ...

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she bathed in moonlight and smelled sweet fragrance of rising promises where rain had perfumed the night showered in dreams and magical stellar amazement her soul cleansed in sprinkles bestrewn in in soft dew when the dust settled she blew a fine powdered kiss and shared the blessed moment of unconditional bliss 17th June 2020 Stardust Poetry Contest Sponsor Nette Onclaud...

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bemused at the prospect of life a personal vision unashamed minimalist ...

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Where is the mass transit sending people to? Dispatch of souls to places unknown See the loading ramp down by the barracks A place to herd them into vehicles What type vehicles and for what use? A bus to drive them to a spar resort A truck to take them to the firing squad A space shuttle to take them off world A...

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Days stream by leaves on a river Nights drag on hard frozen ground Life's promise deserted barren branches December's transit bound for nowhere...

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I noticed several telescopes As I was walking by Along the river; all were pointed At the morning sky. The reason? For a rare event When Mercury is seen In transit passing by the sun, Not part of its routine. It won’t be viewed again from here ‘Til 2049 When other eyes will get the chance; (But certainly not mine!) Without a telescope, I watched A clip upon...

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Sic Transit Gloria When I saw a picture of him I remembered Well suited, hair combed back Business like He was smoking a cigar. He had a heart attack Greatly humbled He left the hospital No more cigars No more whisky Lost his hair Friends gone. He is old now Spend much time In his pyjamas Amble to the shop Buying goat milk Sic Transit Mundo....

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