Short Sewers Poems

In Moscow’s sewers earlier today
An urgent plot was hatched without delay
On his porcelain throne
Up Vlad’s rear flew a drone
And blew poor Putin’s butt far away

12/2/22...

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The soot within rots and stagnates
And all I have become 
Is a garbage of putrid avoidance,
Vague as muddy clay---a leak from sewers
Unless  cleansed by  rising heart 
Free from negative energy.


Rumi Contest  11th Nov 2016...

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Limerick : Then this Wily Woman from Franco’s Spain – 3

Then this Wily Woman from Franco’s Spain
Got the old suction pump jerking again
She pumped herself so hard
They said she set record
Till sewers now run through her to the Seine.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013...

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The Rain In Spain falls gently on the Plain

In NYC it backs up sewers once again

Creating puddles that take two weeks to drain

Oil slicks abound the terrain

Causing motorcyclists lots of pain

Cursing and Swearing is what sustains 

In the Abundance of Late-Running Trains...

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Thunder clouds retreat
    empty of tears
    devastation finally spent.
The bloody remains of your
forgery
slipstream down the gutters.
    So clean
    I thought was your heart.
Secrets held so close
    scatter like confetti
upon an angry wind.
Sewers scream with
    your arrival....

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the sunshine is gone
falls down the rain flowing hard
sewers backing up

water covers streets
over taking sidewalks paths
rains hard thunder storms

rain falling flowing
leaving clouds falling to earth
storms thunder rains hard


8/02/18

written  words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018...

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Summer Tempest

Oncoming tempest
Charges the air with ion
Strong wind gusts predicted soon

Torrents of rain fall
Like a river coming down
Flooding sidewalks and sewers

A rainbow appears
Promise sign that seems to say
"The city’s survived the storm."

7/15/16
For" A Perfect Storm"...

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Now the fox has lost her fir
she's a nightmare animal wandering the dusk
searching sewers for water
no kits in sight
she is mostly grey skin now
haunted eyes
haunted
we place large shallow bowls of water 
at property end
food scraps and dog food
hoping she'll survive the drought
the kits are gone...

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Monumental statues
   so quickly torn down
by radical, woke vision
   Truth, a ghost town

Sewer workers' heroes
   too, have to go
They carry out the
   'Plans of the Man'
Don't you know?...

Located underground
   Can't tear those statues 'down'
Will they be broken 'up?' 
   ~ I hear a voice screaming 'Yup'...

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Seven City Storm

wind blows hot breath on concrete
a downpour on the westside
traffic lights dance on their heads
rivers flow into sewers
storm soon passes on eastward
bus stop umbrella crowds cease
steam lifts slowly from the street

5/16/20

FINISH LINE IN SEVEN' Poetry Contest
Sponsor: nette onclaud...

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arts incision bleeding deep
hearts weeping through faucet sinks
down drains swirling on sewers blink
streams conquering rivers burning seas
all of which are bound beyond the depths
of
me
lines fill filled with salt
grinding me before a hault
here it is we learn bled
thoughts
of
head
our final decision
arts incision
?...

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Mother Nature wears a cement mask,
One we have fastened tight. . . 
With buildings as screws in her soft skin of soil;
With pavement an agent her surface to spoil;
With sewers as needles her veins to foil; 
Mother Nature wears a cement mask,
One we have fastened tight. . . 
 . . .and her covered beauty shall christen the earth's blight . . ....

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Campo Alegre re-printed

Under the houses on stilt
That has no sewers
And built for whores
To service sailors in Curacao
A dry barren island
In the Caribbean Sea
Pigs live under the houses
Grew big and ugly
When one is slaughtered 
The meat tastes of drunk
Seamen’s vomit
And cheap perfume
That hides
The grotesque sex
In the name of need...

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Campo Alegre re-printed

Under the houses on stilt
That has no sewers
And built for whores
To service sailors in Curacao
A barren island
In the Caribbean Sea
Pigs live under houses
Grew big and ugly
When one is slaughtered 
The meat tastes of a drunk
Seamen’s vomit
And cheap perfume
That hides
The grotesque sex
In the name of need



...

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Night time

Night time 
Is the right time
That once sounded erotic
Or connected with a narcotic
But now night time
Is when I find 
We all are blind
The blind and the viewers
Are in the same dark sewers
Nothing to hide in the night
With no moon or sunlight
The day is only good for those who see
For those who don’t-
It brings no beauty
No levity...

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In the future we will burn everything 
In the fire of love.
Hostility will flood water-thin into the sewers below.
Suspicion will dissolve in the very air,
And know one will ever claim to know all about anything,
Not even themselves, with God out from the Unseen,
With pocket flashes of joy striking and stabbing the hearts of men 
In the translucent and lucid false beyond....

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A happy place…for some

Under the houses on stilt
That had no sewers
And was built for whores
To service sailors in Curacao 
A dry, barren Island
In the Caribbean sea.
Pigs lived under the houses
 Grew big and ugly. 
When one of them was 
slaughtered
Its meat tastes of drunk
Seamen`s vomit and
A cheap perfume that hides
The grotesque sex 
In the name of need....

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When sadness comes crawling 
Sling it to the sewers
When self doubt keeps calling 
Block its number 
When the harsh words keep pouring 
Put up your umbrella 

Park your worries 
On that deserted street 
Let fear be its company
For the two will surely meet.

Home is where your heart lives 
A safe, accepting place 
And if someone gives you that same feeling 
Welcome them into your space....

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My broken words lie in tatters
discarding all that matters,

echoing the splintering sounds,
of this heart when it shatters.


Im floating down the sewers,
lynched by unknown skewers,

tossed and flung away,
into the bowels of today.


Still I refuse to beat my retreat,
despite the sting of the icy sleet,

and through the slicing rain,
I will sing a hopeful refrain,

picking myself up to stand again......

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Cold, dark, void,
Rid of all things enjoyed,
Is this place no longer my own,
In shambles, desolate and torn.
Once an expanse of green,
Now a wasteland so grim.
Sewers with filth running,
Garbage and rot piling.
From afar the stench,
Hands on mouth I clench.
Nausea crushing so fast,
Muscles tense, not long to last.
Upwards like a searing flame,
Chars away leaves me lame.
Bending over gushing out,
Can hold no longer, tapping out....

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what scrumptious
flavor
steam floating
from the muffin
touching my nose 
like sewers from 
new york city
But one of a
Rose

my taste buds
lifts my tounge
out my mouth 
like a body builder

What color 
what texture
what a taste 
you have in my style
vanilla 
better then
chocolate
paste 

look at the smile
you bring to 
that young fella 
face.
not to sweet 
not to bitter 

just right to 
tackle my 
buds when i taste...

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Poetry Contest

The  Re-movement of Body Waste

Feed a palate is consumption of food
Into stomach’s upper and lower masses
Digestive walls will arise to its challenge
All that has been eaten in order to live 
We waste not for want of not! 

Leave your plate all too empty
A good full bowel will provide
Your toilet’s flushed plumber pipes
To work its system of waste expulsion 
Into vast city sewers well hidden
Under our rain washed streets!...

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Without great words of wisdom, a nation will survive.
Without purveyors of idiom, a dynasty will thrive.
But let the sewers overflow when waters run amiss,
And you will find a people on the brink of the abyss.

Kingdoms rise to glory through the works of humble men
Whose masterpiece is laid with pipe, not scratches from a pen.
So if the water from the tap should flow with earthy umber,
Best dry the mess with manuscript and then go call a plumber....

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I was told who to fear
And believed every invasion
My chains have been broken
Released, the Raven flies to freedom
I've woken from my dream
Naked to all who seek justice
A mortal prognosis
Missing in the sewers of statehood
Brought to life by
Teargas in the streets
Celebrated by silver anemones
Luminescent of ginger blossoms
Gaslights reflect a feast
Forgotten before time began

                          Before

                          .........Time began...

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I
If I could share this picture with you
I would, my dear writers, Beloveds -
Because Earth births us again & again
Long after burial, giving back, post-death
Nature in majesty: birds at play in scores

II
I see egrets commute to & from, my abused lake,
Here where plastic is king, adorning flora
Even fauna, sewers overflow, trash at waters edge
But egrets, & soon the comorants return, & declare:
We overcome, can't complain, we still have fun. Be!...

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