"tarmacked" poems - Hello Poetry

Lazy sundays with the sad glow there’s nothing to be sad about except that it is all over of course, my one day off vanished outside blowing meager paychecks emerald hillsides topped with leaves abutting, climbing the city plunged into histories soon gone like the cold, gold sun gleaming off the ribbon of the tarmacked road we returned to from our escape peering back through the car’s windshields

0

Oct 15, 2018

Oct 15, 2018 at 1:15 AM UTC

lauraaaaa

sunday outside

Lazy sundays with the sad glow there’s nothing to be sad about except that it is all over of course, my one day off vanished outside blowing meager paychecks emerald hillsides topped with leaves abutting, climbing the city plunged into histories soon gone like the cold, gold sun gleaming off the ribbon of the tarmacked road we returned to from our escape peering back through the car’s windshields

12

We came upon slowing traffic. Inside the bus Standing passengers were thrown and grips tightened as we edged forward across the unfinished road. We passed the sun-glassed occupants of cars and busses and the rolled-up sleeves of lorry drivers who's tanned arms hung out of every window, and who's fingers tapped an unheard tune. I stooped to stare at the dancing distance of the baked tarmacked highway. Our eyes stung and wet The metalled road blazed. Our approaching gaze silent. Gripped passports Identity papers rosary- beads -Letters of transit - not needed; The border did what most borders do- and shrugged us through. Laughter becomes all languages. Later that afternoon, I sipped from the glass I held. Jez turned to me and asked, "Is this what it's like to be drunk?" I smiled as I slid my wine towards her... ... words and foto T Carroll..

0

Apr 3, 2015

Apr 3, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC

tommy-carroll

Is this what borders do?

We came upon slowing traffic. Inside the bus Standing passengers were thrown and grips tightened as we edged forward across the unfinished road. We passed the sun-glassed occupants of cars and busses and the rolled-up sleeves of lorry drivers who's tanned arms hung out of every window, and who's fingers tapped an unheard tune. I stooped to stare at the dancing distance of the baked tarmacked highway. Our eyes stung and wet The metalled road blazed. Our approaching gaze silent. Gripped passports Identity papers rosary- beads -Letters of transit - not needed; The border did what most borders do- and shrugged us through. Laughter becomes all languages. Later that afternoon, I sipped from the glass I held. Jez turned to me and asked, "Is this what it's like to be drunk?" I smiled as I slid my wine towards her... ... words and foto T Carroll..

36

The pavement lies along the road. Amongst the swift passing traffic, It remains untrodden except the bird. A foot steps onto the tarmacked mess; A sigh of relief from both parties emerge: Soon the step is gone with the day. She sits again awaiting her prize. Alas she is relieved of her burden; A motorway is drawn across the rolling hills. But what will become of the lonely road? Grit on grit will build anew. Upon the grit, metal would flow. Now the pavement lays no more, Peacefully the traffic rushes along.

0

Nov 24, 2018

Nov 24, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC

bolt6576

Grit

The pavement lies along the road. Amongst the swift passing traffic, It remains untrodden except the bird. A foot steps onto the tarmacked mess; A sigh of relief from both parties emerge: Soon the step is gone with the day. She sits again awaiting her prize. Alas she is relieved of her burden; A motorway is drawn across the rolling hills. But what will become of the lonely road? Grit on grit will build anew. Upon the grit, metal would flow. Now the pavement lays no more, Peacefully the traffic rushes along.

14

Friends with Star Wars figures And friends with football stickers. Friends with bikes, Friends with footballs; The road was Wembley, The neighbours' van our goalpost, No one seemed to care That their cars were being trashed By wayward shots and way-off volleys Or their lawns were being wrecked By 10 year olds with football studs Crossing themselves à la Maradona Before vital penalties. Happy days indeed, Playing Block, Headers and Volleys, Sixty Seconds, Laughing, smiling, laughing. But that same estate, Thirty years hence, Is clogged with cars, No room for makeshift crossbars To help nurture future soccer stars! Lawns are tarmacked drives. Children forced into sedentary lives Not by social media or XBox Live But by lack of playing spaces. So, no more cycle races, Or street-football with undone laces, Just kids with nowhere to play And no power with which to sway Those ignorant adults who simply say "Kids today, eh? Too lazy to play".

0

Jan 17, 2019

Jan 17, 2019 at 3:26 AM UTC

eryri

Estate of the Times

Friends with Star Wars figures And friends with football stickers. Friends with bikes, Friends with footballs; The road was Wembley, The neighbours' van our goalpost, No one seemed to care That their cars were being trashed By wayward shots and way-off volleys Or their lawns were being wrecked By 10 year olds with football studs Crossing themselves à la Maradona Before vital penalties. Happy days indeed, Playing Block, Headers and Volleys, Sixty Seconds, Laughing, smiling, laughing. But that same estate, Thirty years hence, Is clogged with cars, No room for makeshift crossbars To help nurture future soccer stars! Lawns are tarmacked drives. Children forced into sedentary lives Not by social media or XBox Live But by lack of playing spaces. So, no more cycle races, Or street-football with undone laces, Just kids with nowhere to play And no power with which to sway Those ignorant adults who simply say "Kids today, eh? Too lazy to play".

33

you can taste the tarmacked pavement smell the earth when rain mixes with molecules in your mind

0

Mar 13, 2016

Mar 13, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC

nivek

molecules in your mind

you can taste the tarmacked pavement smell the earth when rain mixes with molecules in your mind

3

I looked out a high tower and the beauty of nature cradled my heart then concrete being poured into foundations and tarmacked parking lots I could see all the industry of Man while all the poets were shaking off their hangovers then they began to sing in their solitude for all the voices nobody else could hear.

0

Feb 11, 2016

Feb 11, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC

nivek

I looked out a high tower

I looked out a high tower and the beauty of nature cradled my heart then concrete being poured into foundations and tarmacked parking lots I could see all the industry of Man while all the poets were shaking off their hangovers then they began to sing in their solitude for all the voices nobody else could hear.

8