Short Alleys Poems
Short Alleys Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Alleys by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Alleys by length and keyword.
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!
maples
drape long alleys
woodsmoke-scents stir crisp air
bright leaves whirl down on musty ground’s
carpet
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.
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)
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
Memory has a selective ring
lets slip unpleasant things
Basks midst prism's colors, prelude to first light
discards unlit alleys, moon-less nights
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
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
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)
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.
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')
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
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
Form:
sometimes i feel going back time,
in a place never been,
starts with st.Ana winds,
ends in a grid of dark alley,
avevues,
hand in hand lighted only by neon light,
to separate the truth ,
from lies
mario
Form:
sometimes i feel going back time,
in a place never been,
starts with st.Ana winds,
ends in a grid of dark alley,
avevues,
hand in hand lighted only by neon light,
to separate the truth ,
from lies
mario
Form:
Church bells forged in the
flames of Irish history
Reign down in a full-circle ring
on crowded streets
Echo through soul worn cobble
stone half lit alleys
Bringing the gap where the
past and present meet.
Lanterne#18
Blind
alleys
so often
have the deepest
ruts.
NOTE:the single lanterne(also a shape form) is in reality a half American cinquain (the epigram form created by Adelaide Crapsey,thus labelled 'American' )
I found myself when
no longer looked for me
In the ephemeral of me,
through the intimate alleys
in the dusk of the soul
there was light that I didn't know
that heavenly light came
from poetry,
divine poetry... !
Hurry
Takes its toll as
In our daily stroll,we
From deepest ruts of blind alleys
Quicken.
NOTE:AMERICAN CINQUAIN (an imagist stressed version)WAS DEVISED BY ADELAIDE CRAPSEY (William Soutar Epigrams are a similar wordplay form)
In the estates a baby cries.
In the streets a young man dies.
In the alleys they'll sell you drugs.
In the schools kids now use guns.
In the world there's so much need
Why won't the government intercede?
an Anaphora form ©SamHarty
My passion is to find obscure places,
shops down alleys with old traces;
artisan, bookstore or second hand,
I can spend hours exploring . . .
For me this is calming and never boring,
and lovely when I find a "thing" grand.
I Run; Panting; Rushing to be on time.
My cart's wheel screaming clicketty clack
Hurrying through darkened city streets and alleys.
Gnawing Hunger outweighing my fear of red-eyed rats
as scents of tonight's meal fills the midnight garbage bins.
A storehouse of diamonds
mired in human flotsam
be it on the sea, on land
or the alleys of Amsterdam
Each gem a rough jewel
yearning to be polished
The world heaves a sigh ~
as they fester impoverished
Ambushed U.S. police struck by gunfire
Brothers, sisters of the badge bloodied
Chicago lost by suicide souls of blue
Don't defund the good fighting the wars
Entered homes, alleys, bullets blazed, eternity
Families faithfully keep remembrance flames lit
Did he have to toss me out here?
Alleys are not comfortable places to be dumped off.
Noting a bad feeling, I keep my mace close.
Gory things happen to those who are unaware.
Even if I cannot see someone, I sense them.
Reacting to my fear, I keep my back bristled.