Street poems bring the best collection of short and long street poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great street rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these street poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on street are here for you.
Standing at the side of the street, I witness the changes through subsequent visits. A glass tower, built some days back, stands tall, Gobbling away space, around the nearby corner shop, that avoids fall. The corner shop was built few
As you pass me by, feed me euros, buy my art… he sits he sits by his easel he sits by his easel in ridged dreads & facial piercings he sits by his easel in the Piazza Della Signoria he
A lead goes nowhere, a ladder, a snake, bloody steps; a city mourns, while blackened walls of a house search its owner. Shadows of grainy straws move under the eyes. Scent of nails bites bronze silence. Sips of cold statements
Chinatown, such a kaleidoscope of rich colors and ear-splitting sounds Amid shouts of ‘Cheap, cheap, murah, murah! ‘ abound A human wave of heat hits you As you push through the barrier of flesh And avoid colliding with all manners
As they were walking on the empty roads, empty hands and with empty pockets, everything became silent for a moment, both thinking what to say and a sudden emotion of unknown was raising making both of them uncomfortable. While she
A cold deserted alleyway, dark as a desolate grave, away off in the distance dogs howling their dismay. A winter wind is gathering, blowing old papers away, with tired forgotten faces and news of yesterday. Discarded cans and bottles clatter
I stand alone at the busy street The street is crowded with footprints Vehicles and the blowing horns But I feel all alone. The light of life goes away from my eyes I feel death comes to me with a
I’ll be waiting my friend, at the street corner pub. Waiting for happy hours to end. Waiting for the waiter to Take the last orders. I’ll be waiting for My glass of wine to Concoct the image of you At
The sun embraced me with his long hands he tenderly touched my face with his soft fingers. it was so special for me to open my eyes, I looked out through my window there on the floor, my friend was
What human values have we today, Than just seeking a helluva lot of Happiness for the notifications When the virtual defeats reality Am I too in same cage? To forget my Man and Sons and Daughters And care about gadgets
She was madly in Love with me so was I in Love with her We were couple made for each other A whirl wind of gossip swept away our bonded love A simple misunderstanding wreck havoc in our life She
An empty road…. this peaceful night…. As evening breeze, blend with street lights Though far are we, from city’s glow With only dunes and sands to show Come, be with me, my fairest one Let us walk this road, hand
Darkness.. my cigarette end glows like a blood shot eye the mud wasp chirps the house rat scuttle by the shrill “Ge-ecko” of Geckos… a dog perched on its hind limbs sends out unpleasant vibrations picked up by its mate
There, out there In the street corners On the sidewalks And hung, dangling Are dreams! Cute and adorable Hot, yet fishy Dazzling, but foxy There, too many In the exquisite malls Draped on elegant idols Bewitching every heart Enticing dreams!
Let’s take a walk Just you and me and none of our goddamn pretensions None of the constant editing of words and phrases in our daily interactions Let’s say things as they come to mind Hell, let’s just not say
10 ways to write a poem! No sentence in the glory of English language has hit me as hard as this one did. I started writing poetry when I was in class 7th. I still remember the day when this
My deep eyes owe a few colourful dreams Blue Waters are dancing in the quiet streams I still play with the chocolate ice-creams Rubbing them against lips While licking those delicious creams Equally touching my hairband strips My dreams chase
I. If all lives mattered, then Black lives would matter. And blood on a street in Ferguson, MO would not have been splattered; And a body would not have lay there unattended for four and a half hours after. II.
A quite and a peaceful dawn Woke up with a yawn Sang a gospel song The phone rang for so long With someone on the horn Knew something was wrong It was a news so bad About the death of
I see the colours shading the pretty smile in thoughts forlorn, The tears as bright as a diamond, but that shone aloof and alone. I hide the whimsical rays in the pocket of hope, But the hope that knows nowhere
The flags tremble in the cold wind at half mast Standing sombrely at the edge of the central plaza Printed against deep, heavy grey skies The whole nation heaves a long, devastated sigh Today, we have lost our Father The
She is that girl you always meet, As you walk down a busy street; That office girl across the hall, Or someone’s partner at a ball; That dearest love now in your arms, Or song diva with haughty charms, Covered
Every morning she sweeps the dust That settles there on the step at her door And evening too again she must Sweeping away the dust from her door The dust of the trucks, the dust of our boots The dust
Sinners hurt. While moonlight cracks open like a walnut, spreads soft light across open sky, they dart to alleyways, bury themselves behind their own trails shaking fists at the sky; hiding their nasty nonsense in shame, city buildings rattle their
The times we live in…. Hungry urchins with big eyes.. Mugshots of them, liked by so many… No food tho’ in their sight, As they trudge along, for a miracle. It’s worth talking about, and long scoops. But then, it’s
A cold, lifeless blade was pressed against chilly, tender flesh Slowly, she presses it down, feeling the pressure on her limb Then, there is a sudden relief as the crimson rivers and the inner trash Comes tumbling down, red raindrops
She is the color of dusk, Just before it begins to rain. A shade of orange From the setting sun, A pinch of yellow, From the street lamps, A sprinkle of red, From the pregnant clouds. There is a name
I don’t need a jerk, Or a drive in a Merc! All I need is a cup of tea in the pouring rain, A few jokes to entertain, A hearty conversation to gain, But alas, my requests are taken in
Every day when I wake up And I see the SUN, Walking down the street, I see kids having fun. I admire GOD’S perfect creations Like the BEAUTIFUL flowers that grow, Trees that grow very high,. And even the EVER
When I saw some kids, playing in the street, With a wish to join them, in that summer heat, Soon, a ray of realization came, That my innocence was no more the same. When I wanted to join, the youth
Many of us will not experience the fabulous life, while a select few have heaven on earth, the gleam,the glamour we see on tv seems not right, when most live their lives like they are cursed, the rich stay rich
Just past 7:00 AM on an early and sunny Saturday morning, I walked out my back door and onto the open patio In a very short while, I saw the beauty of the day slowly unfold A lovely June morning
We had a bountiful garden filled with sweet corn and peas We had tasted good vegetables before, but none so good as these In an area of south eastern wisconsin, just across the illinois state line We discovered a place
“NO!”, she cried, running out of the fitting room. The wedding dress lay bleeding. So did her womb. Elsewhere, he took his last breath, lying on an unknown street.
Poverty constrains, To take the risks, Hunger forces them to bring, Their innocent daughters, On the streets of hungry men, The girls under thirteen, Not yet an adult, Exploiting and exposing, Their boy like bodies, With a long stick in
A world where I can take birth And I will not be killed in the womb Or dumped into a dumpster Or just thrown like that on the pile of waste on the road Where my limbs will be pulled
Sometimes she whispers in my ear, a tapestry of pain and fear whose warp and weft weave haunted days and nightmare dreams through woeful sobs and blooded screams; till phantoms from a private hell enshroud me in a chilling spell.
(1) Tents are crowded by windows, but missing walls and a jasmine flower. (2) A window is a border between consciousness and sub-consciousness, between Ego and its annihilation. (3) A home without a window is a blind man with no
You know how it is When I see through the prism When rain falls When the bonfires blazes my eye sight When the mud of rain drenched path Makes my mind untidy When that lone dog sleeps Under the foggy
A pair of reverberating black eyes Moves in the street of dead moths, Under yellow light of forlorn streets Moves uncertainly in a sleepy town, The luminous mist adorns her face, The wounded eyes of poverty Barters a call for
The Moment you walk in with the shuttle racket; My deserted street welcomes with a bouquet!!! Along with the cork, you bring liveliness too here; As you settle to serve, the winds obey your move!! I see you there… Busy
Our lives are so filled with negatives that we often forget about the positives We have convinced ourselves that bad news sells, and good news is a side story at best As parents, we love our children dearly, but we
My world came crashing down And I have been reduced to a nobody No one recognizes me anymore Even the dog in my street barks at me I am a woman with no resource I am a woman whose husband