Short Alleys Poems

Blind
alleys 
so often
have the deepest
ruts....

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a goliath frog
ancestor of devil frog
scary in alleys...

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cobble stone alleys
muted rivulets of hope
a flash of lightning...

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Dark alleys call me

cold mist gets inside my clothes ~

I sleep shivering....

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thunder
rolling along
the alleys of sky
meeting with lightning striking force
a zap...

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Hurry
takes its toll as
in our daily stroll we
from deepest ruts of blind alleys
quicken....

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Hurry
Takes its toll as
In our dailt stroll,we
From deepest ruts of blind alleys
Quicken....

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Hurry
Takes its toll,as
In our daily stroll,we
From deepest ruts of blind alleys,
Quicken...

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Hurry
takes its toll as
in our daily stroll we,
from deepest ruts of blind alleys
quicken....

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your reflected love
a ray of sunshine on pain
lights up dark alleys

© Harry J Horsman 2018...

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Crumbs begrudged
  Pigeons' alleys prowled
Broken glass and diapers
  Sings the wise old owl...

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The wind change direction's eyes,
When the nightfall is coming.
We are, alleys, streets, and desires....

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Beware of apparent seductive short-cuts
Blind alleys often have the deepest ruts.

American doublet form...

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Our nature is a beautiful sight
Gives us so much pride
It takes us to Spain 
Or keeps us straying in the deep alleys of pain!...

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I sit within the ruins
Of a mind
Struggling
Lost in endlessly dark
Synaptic alleys
Reaching
For an unseen face
An unknown word
A fading
Me....

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My fate to be a watcher…
“Regarder Les Autres”
and write from alleys dark but real,
salons for words ill-bred 

(Le Grande Hotel Paris: May, 1978)...

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to all those in need
those that frequent dark alleys
to all those in need
where the need of life questioned...
one day equilibrium.

© Harry J Horsman 2012...

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Memory has a selective ring
    lets slip unpleasant things 

  Basks midst prism's colors, prelude to first light 
    discards unlit alleys, moon-less nights...

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Behind a customary pen that bites
    its victims, left to bleed
  in alleys dark, lurks a 
    denizen of forest nights ~
    his sonnets' radiance, purest white...

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Empty glass bottles
lying in back alleys
Where they drowned the emotions 
of broken hearts
that were shattered like glass.

Kale Brereton
January 19/19...

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If some is good
more is better
Less is threatened
all enslaved

If more is reasoned
less is questioned 
Good intentions
—hell repaved

(Dreamsleep: January, 2023)...

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Why is everything is as it is?
Why not a black-n-white rainbow?
Why not a stairway to hell?
Why death, when living is worse?
Dark alleys in my heart lead to a dead end
I search on....

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Ghosts rise up at night
From the sinking tale of tides
rocks hear all the Cries


Charma













(Not for  the  contest,but inspired by Raul's picture 'Ghost tides')...

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In old London town,
I’d walk down foggy alleys
To take a photo.
Lawyer, prince, doctor - or what?
We’d see Jack the Ripper’s face.

Jack Horne for Michael’s Close your eyes and click your heels...

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sweeping along the crowded wisps
of bygone alleys and trodden pasts
gentle whispers of memories breeze by
teasing today's persistent travails
to rest, urging the now to flee
and into a cocooned closet to lie...

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