Alley Poems - Poems about Alley

stopping in an alley on a summer day

Stopping in an alley on a summer day
rainbow trash exhaling its hot fetid breath
a scamper of invisible residents
searching for the remains of elegant dining
the Nordic hum of struggling A/C units
as an evening sun seems to avoid entry
music drifts from an open window
slowly fades in the humidity
peeking over my shoulder
I slide behind the dumpster…

Along the Way

The raindrops fall into the paper cup of tea
The teabag shrinks as if it could be my remark
Unlatch the green door to the childlike mystery
It’s possible again to enter that old park 
The busts and statues of the gods and greats
And shaded benches in the niches of the trees
There in the memory another alley waits
I

Alley-Oop

Alley-Oop

WHO
 TOLD
  YOU
   THAT
    YOU
     WERE
      NAKED!!!

"She Did," 
  Adam Said...

"What?"

-Gray Squirrel

06-03-2025

Hiding In Her Darkest Alley

Her broken rules
Couldn't feel the same
Tastes of choices 
I gave no way
Broke back when it ended
She learned over him
I defended
Another's warm weather 
Her level, hurt
Nothing to train it
A societies blemish
Miss prepared
No loves an affair
Gradually
Losing
Being worthed
Inventions
Untapped muscles
Repressed records
One day
Forgotten
Another's stain 
Unbothered

Locusts in the Alley

In the old graveled alley, overgrown with weeds,
at footfall, locusts sprang and leaped,
triggering a riot.
But soon their swelling motion
subsided like fried popcorn on a skillet.

back alley bake-off

Hungry rats watched the dumpster fire awaiting a hot meal

would not want to meet him in a dark alley

a goliath frog
ancestor of devil frog
scary in alleys

alley cat of Allen town

ebony like a puma, velvet pretty
she prowls and growls and moans in her sleep
like a little black dress, fashionably chic and insightful
there is purring now, her dreams might have shifted
the toms in the alley remain in hiding, fearful
she can be such a tease, and sometimes a torment
her scratches are serious; she is not afraid to

Alley Cats

   alley cats screeching

      summer breezes waft the sounds
         
         ~ as if castrated

Ode to the Bowling Alley

I like the sound these funny shoes
make slapping on the wood,
I’m no league-bowler, that’s for sure,
but most folks say I’m good.
My buds and I meet here sometimes
to bowl a couple frames,
which mostly means beer and nachos,
a break to keep us sane.
The kids are off at the arcade,
and yes, they still have one,
playing games that I

Naive Picture of Summer

On a sunny day, I was walking along the ivy-covered church fence. At the gates a beggar addressed me, politely asking for alms. Got no money, I replied. “Then take some of mine”, said the beggar – “a man cannot be completely without money”. I quickened my pace and entered the church hall. After the

City or Alley

I snap into the sky and see,

The sparkling cityscape.

I zap awake.

Stumbling once again.

Stumped once again.

Adjusting to the alley that was once a speck of scenery.

The lights aren’t sparkling.

The lights are flickering again.

What I thought was harmony and music-

Is just scrapping and dripping and howling.

This is an alley.

Of the city.

Until I snap into the sky again.

Until

Tea Cup Spigot Alley

I first heard about Teacup Spigot Alley from my cousin Sally.
She had been there many times to sip tea and dilly dally.
Two pink macaws were slurping down sugar lemon tea.
One gave me a peck, the other completely ignored me.

Are those faeries? I asked my cousin Sally, who knows all.
She laughed at my ignorance, but her

Homeless Alley

garbage smells
hungry rats
alley woes

laughter though
family
of people

homeless yes
having fun
unified

Life Met Me In the Alley,

Life met me in the alley, shattered and torn,
As if violated by cruel invaders’ scorn.
But I gathered her broken fragments, piece by piece,
And adorned her with flowers, seeking love and peace.

Now she dances beside me, a vibrant display,
In meadows and valleys, on mountains that sway.
She has fallen in love, her heart intertwined with mine,
Yet, a

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