Short Alleyways Poems

Me and the twins
Born to be kissed in
The dark alleyways...

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Embers singe my mind
Alleyways long forgotten
Still hot to the touch



11/29/13...

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We could slip down the alleyways
to
disappear into yesterday's
and tomorrow would never arrive....

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Dark alleyways loom,
Within the dreamtime cities;
Foreboding horrors;
Of which I dare not mention.
Beware alleyways of mind.
...

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expansive foothills
at the entrance
to Heaven
here on Earth
unlock
her gates
narrow alleyways
the arteries
rushing to
Jerusalem's
pulsating
heart...

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When Russia inevitably evens the score
Ukraine will remain an unpainted whore
   To NATO unattractive
   Russia wary, reactive
Hiding in alleyways, pre-Third World War...

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Pritzker gleaned his mansion of crappers 
for the purpose of not paying taxes
but when his belly gurgled 
alleyways filled with his turds
a homeless gal just sat back and laughed...

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One moment, a hint of love
The next, abruptly shoved

Hands over heart: Pray
Unpromised is the day

Yet when sure is certain
by Noonday's light --
  
Shadows stalk dark alleyways
  ~ Pray, slip away...

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denizens of dark
float the streets in ghoulish garb
feeding on our fear

creep the alleyways
haunting us at every turn
endless dread we feel

thankfully this night
only comes but once a year
it's all hallowed eve...

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As he, reeling, roamed the back streets

the grimy alleyways, the filth weighed on him

   He, born to privilege, was unworthy

no better -- No! the same as -- the stooped

   figures scurrying into the shadows of despair...

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Silly pills are really quite expensive these days
Jokers like me need 12 a day, that's a lot to pay 
To remain this happiness queen
This infamous giggling machine 
Else I'm morose and lure kiddies into alleyways...

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A highway of regret…
  an avenue of denial

A boulevard of hopes and dreams
  where footsteps have defiled

A thoroughfare of wanton time
  each choice a dead end road

In fated plundered wanderlust
  —dark alleyways of stone

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2018)...

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Raggedy vagrants 
alleyways with broken lamps
clomping of footsteps

Imminent danger 
seaside shadows vanish
fir trees bend and crack

Imaginary ghosts
swift legs continue their beat
keep life-saving pace

Sultry night above
concealed moonlight endures
climb unlit doorsteps...

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Nostalgia hides within the hopes
Of the present
Sours as it passes
Tucks itself into cerebral
Alleyways
Lingers in fitful dreams
Grows as it ripens
Ignites the trembling torch of
Ageing's adolescence

12/1/2020

Any New Acrostic About Nostalgia Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier - Sponsor...

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Dark lines betray
A lover's soul
Shadows cast
Within the tunneled alleyways
Hidden beneath
Sun sparkled peaks
Traps sprung in loneliness
Baited in despair's longing
Scented
With false hope
Watched over
By predatory pain

A rat scurries
In the silence.

John G. Lawless

1/7/2020...

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Sorrow is

the night’s rainstorm

lashing an impoverished psyche

wandering lost with loss 

‘neath weeping eaves in murky-minded alleyways

without an umbrella. 


Susan Ashley 
July 29, 2019


~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: One Sentence Metaphor In Free Verse
Sponsor: Jesse Rowe...

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Hands move warmly,
wait.............

sillouettes talking,
silently glowing
pavement....
colors in the rain,
hesitations.........
.
minding the quiet pull
of city alleyways,

strolling........
swinging past

distant doors,
windows......

shades hanging,
the world

zigzagging

around us,

alone......
together...

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Listen to poem:

He fled the gazes of his brood --
They cut his soul with faces
sharp from lack of food.
Although their mouths
Voiced no complaint,
Their steady, unaccusing stares
Were so much more than he could bear --
This hero of two foreign wars.
He cowers now in alleyways
(And drinks his courage from a jar)
Beneath a far, unjudging star....

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You silenced the calling out of children,
across empty lots and down twilight alleyways.
You stole the summers of innocence,
and the friends and lovers of forgotten days.

Long ago, you teased me with your possibilities,
filled me with hope and fantasies.
Then jerked away your promises,
and left me with want and empty dreams.
...

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Brutes shine knives in hallways sleeping out of corners of heart-beats racing the fear of 
death is a shadow with pale eyes darkness is silence who are you to judge whistling in 
dimly lit alleyways stray cats smash trash-cans your breath leaps into the morning when 
all is too quiet wooden doors pause gleaming numbers brass tarnished faith hangs by a...

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with a beard and a weary face
i head out into the town
tired eyes and tired hearts
result in nothing but wretched frowns

cider splashes down my jeans
i slip and fall on the floor
i bump i bang i get harangued
and then im shown the door

waiting for a taxi head in my hands
urination down the filthy alleyways
vomit bursts from my cracked lips
its all the same day after day...

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From beyond the grave, I scoff

I've earned my place in history.

Such wicked deeds I carried off,

Yet still remain a mystery.

My hunting grounds were alleyways

Where I spent productive nights,

Plying my trade, my art, my skills,

Murder, and it's dark delights.

Never were you close to me,

Not a sign nor track.

You had no clue who I was,

So you all just called me Jack....

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Up the alleyways creeps Death
Hoping to take your last breath

Darkly cloaked and demon-eyed
You had better run and hide

Searching high and searching low
Death shall strike the final blow

In every dark corner he looks
All the crannies,all the nooks

If he finds you you're all done
There'll be no place left to run

So on Halloween be extra fast
Or else that night might be your last!...

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Swirling scuffling newspapers
Scrawling in civilized dirt
Alleyways devouring
Discarded stories of hurt
Sunken sorrel skin
Writhing in distended shame
Ingested figments of food
Decomposing depravity’s name
Corroded cans of compassion
Littering hunger pains 
Kicked into comatose corners
Prodded by public domain
Flaccid fingers of despair
Folded to somehow convey
God if you can hear me
I haven’t eaten in ten days...

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under the moon and murky alleyways
i roam with rats the mean and rain-slicked streets
a private eye, taking whatever pays
i search for her, whose husbands bloody sheets...
paid me to find her and his rich receipts

with-in the fog was smoke like fog in air
from her short cigarette and sinful glare
the light from lamp poles blinked; our bullets blew
a man was dead from our brief love affair
and briefly bullets both inside us grew...

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