Manholes Poems | Examples


List of Member Poems

Premium Member Pondering the Pavement

This might have been an astounding scene, once.
Though, cracks and crevices, these days, it confronts
The hedge plants, like uncut hairs, have grown wild.
Waste-hills are higgledy-piggledy piled.

Manholes and potholes are littered around.
One who falls in could easily get drowned.
Flags, once painted on the walls, look faded.
With red-spit splashes, dustbins are shaded.

Here's one; there's one; you'd find in each corner
An artist exhibiting his honor
Are these singers part of an orchestra?
Is earning fast pennies their formula?

Hungry beggars terrorize one and all.
Scaring cat-dog-fowl-swine-cattle groups brawl
Beggars share their alms-bread-chunks with stray dogs.
Everyone sleeps together like dried logs.

Amidst sellers' and buyers' hard bargain
One could hear sounds of much party jargon.
Cutting across them rush the pickpockets.
Thieves hide behind municipal crochets.

Floods of populace flow gushing wildly.
Though vexed within, they seem to smile mildly.
Each one rushes as though under a curse
Indian pavement is a universe.

Memories Live On, Though Houses Be Gone

Old wooden houses
In need of a paint
According to the authorities
The red faded roof
The white peeling walls
The veranda worn bare
By the children who lived there
And under the floor, thru manholes and more
They got a fright, One night
When they went in to fix
Whatever was wrong
And found the hut we played in
The blankets and rugs, food
Matches for the stove
Fearing a burning end
Scolding, ashamed
'You must never go ...
Under ... the house again'
Years later
The bulldozer came
But our memories remain
Verandas we played on
The hidden door
We laughed on the veranda
Climbed on the rails
Felt the smooth wood
Of the porch
Our bare feet squealing with excitement
Only now I can see
An old memory
No inkling back then
Of the times that would change
No inkling back then
Of the memories of our games
When they told us their memories
It was like a distant land
We would never go there
The past is the past, unravelling just so ...
Children will usually go ... somewhere ...
When told not to go.
Trees gather closely to the lovely wooden frame
The long hallway beckons, 
It's skittles again!

Premium Member The Lovers of New York

the rain that drowned the sidewalks
dampened down the night-time heat
creating steam through manholes
from the pipes beneath the street

and set against this backdrop
of a vibrant city beat
swarms of taxis stung the air
with horns stuck on repeat

as a writer sipping coffee
staring from a café seat
wrote words for her 'bestseller'
based on when two people cheat..

"..married strangers and a storm..
arranged a covert meet..
..ran towards each other
in a way such lovers greet..

they kissed beneath umbrellas 
in a manner so discreet
then stepped inside a restaurant
to flirt, laugh, love and eat

her big blue eyes melted his heart
her smile was wide and sweet
and he was rich, tall, cool and calm 
and swept her off her feet..."

...but before the lovers' story
made it to another sheet
the writer came to from her thoughts
with the chapter incomplete

her big blue eyes and sweet wide smile
felt somewhat obsolete
on the poor, tall, cool, calm waiter who
brought change with her receipt.


Premium Member Gravity Fed

Sewers possess a beauty all their own
belching gas, you can hear them hiss and groan.

A maze that stretches for hundreds of miles:
they remove our stench and leave us with smiles.

Such an efficient waste removal tube:
if you don’t admire their worth, you're a rube.

They're the bowels of a modern city:
not to acknowledge them is a pity.

Interconnected pipes flush out each house
and provide homes for a rat, or a mouse.

A marvel of septic engineering:
they spread good health without interfering.

Thanks to manholes and ubiquitous drains,
our paved streets are not flooded when it rains.

Sewer systems are an essential tool 
to remove liquid waste and smelly stool.

Try to imagine life without this web
of underground rivers that flow and ebb.

They outpace a highly prized thoroughbred
and the trick is, they're gravity fed.

The Manholes That Kidnap Our Children

The stops signs ‘yield’ to our egos
The traffic lights flash red as we go!
The dust we kicked up as we blast through
The paper waste that drifts on the smoke filled air

The giant potholes swallow our monthly budget
As we gather the cents on the road to market
Overtaken on the life's sharp curve - showing off driving skills
Becoming the senselessness of a road kill - speed kills!

The ambiguous turns when we ought to go straight
The dubious road blocks for a bribe of a ticket!
Fine law enforcement at its best...keeping the roads safe
Avoiding duty in uniform at their finest...to preserve life

The manholes that kidnap our children like satan
On the pavement next to hell, they lie dead overdriven
Why did you let than drunken driver go Mr. Policeman?
He’s now your partner in crime for an innocent soul is taken

Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.

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