Short Tenement Poems

Well maybe I'll find love
in the shadowy doorway
of a tenement building
'neath a bullet grey sky.

Silver shrapnel will rain
down
soak our leathery feet
watered and overgrown.

Love in a shadowy doorway....

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Wafting in the unmistakable scent
of poor choices
Grifting in the prodigal valley
of mistakes
Loitering in the tenement
of false witness
Wandering along the highway
—of forgotten dreams 

(Dreamsleep: September, 2023)...

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Like that broad in an apricot bra
hanging over the sill
of her tenement window, the sun

is over me now, its nectar 
laughing and falling.
I don’t have a barrel,

not even a goblet,
so I whirl underneath
hoping I drown.


Donal Mahoney...

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In the hollows of my being
mental photos move about
doors attempt to shut out
what was already  in - severity
plaster walls sharing testimony 
with squeaky floors
warmth mingled with kerosence petals
ancient melodies oozing hope
ties of embryonic attendance 
anchors of strength obtained...

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Once lit by flickering torch light 
with animal tallow mixed with ocher
daubed on subterranean rock walls
now lit by streetlights or LED headlamp
slashes of spray paint and magic markers 
splattered on concrete bridge abutments,
boxcars, or walls of tenement ghettos,
but the message is the same
we were here....

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Christians offer prayer to
Heavens above,
Realizing their sins are forgiven
Instantly and forever.
Scriptures have recorded this
Transcendent act.  His death an
Investiture in mankind.  His
Sepulchre a transitory tenement.
Revived by God,
Instantiating His power
So that man may know this
Emanation was
Not accidental....

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Halls of steel and concrete, 
massive Cyclopean towers 
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance. 

Children in neglect, 
souls with haggard faces, 
ekeing out their livelihoods 
with hopes and modest means.

Versions of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while 
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile....

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There is an ambiance about you.

A sadness but a rarity

Wish I could individualize you...

Impart..

Define you...

I anticipate obliging you.

Caressing your bruises

Running my fingertips across your disfiguring tenement.

Telling you it'll be OK.

Even thought it wont.

I still wanted you to know

You're beautiful....

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1886 
Frightened immigrants
holding hands

Spoke little English
two suitcases
strange tongues, smells
cornucopia of sounds
crowds, horses, wagons
tenement apartment
little heat

1909
Their own home
central heating
learned English
Model T Ford
business, savings
four children
daughter in college

Dauntless citizens
holding hands...

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...for Hart Crane


Halls of steel and concrete, 
massive Cyclopean towers 
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance. 

Children in neglect, 
souls with haggard faces, 
ekeing out their livelihoods 
with hopes and modest means.

Measures of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while 
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile....

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...for Hart Crane


Halls of steel and concrete, 
massive Cyclopean towers 
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance. 

Children in neglect, 
souls with haggard faces, 
ekeing out their livelihoods 
with hopes and modest means.

Measures of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while 
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile....

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...for Hart Crane


Halls of steel and concrete, 
massive Cyclopean towers 
of immodesty where moguls
bask in gross extravagance. 

Children in neglect, 
souls with haggard faces, 
ekeing out their livelihoods 
with hopes and modest means.

Measures of prosperity;
the rich man pads his pockets while 
the poor man haunts his tenement,
struggling to smile....

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   Living simply
     rejoicing
   in their callings

   He, a shoemaker
     finest quality
   long-lasting leather

   She, a seamstress
     understated grace
   in bridal gowns and accessories

   home - Lower East Side
     1930's NYC tenement-style
   hearts - in Jerusalem

   Their bags packed
     ready to go
   Hark, Elijah heralds the dawn

...

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I don’t recognize myself;
this is not uncommon,
but he seems to me like a pale root
dragged-up to be exposed to sooty clouds;
one raw and unearthed by quarrying shadows.
A grainy tinge shades vacant eyes.
In the distance, tenement towers -
grey tusks in a monochrome sky.
A callus of light embalms a sallow horizon,
revealing just enough of the child
to spook the dead....

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I don’t recognize myself;
this is not uncommon,
but he seems to me
like a white root 
suddenly exposed to sooty clouds;
a tendril unearthed
by quarrying shadows. 
A grainy tinge shades vacant eyes.
In the distance, tenement towers - 
grey tusks in a monochrome sky.
A callus of light is seen in the distance
it reveals just enough of him
to spook the dead....

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Lofty sorts tenement;
Residential entitlements;
Homeward bound ;
Lost in town,
Logistics Irving bound;
 Summers call;
Legitimate hall;
Tournament crawl;
No mortgage though;
No rent termites eating bossa wood;
Lying on rough wet papered floor;
a homeless man lives alone and a cardboard boxed home! 


8/30/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021...

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Not an academic
Poet
Not a tenement 
Poet
Not a beat or a blues
or a church Poet
Not a famous or infamous
or celebrity Poet
Not an Irish or Basque
or Welsh Poet

Not a formal
Poet
Not a casual
Poet
Not the kind that takes
to the stage Poet
Not a tenured or membered
or club Poet
Not a for profit or glory
or fame Poet

… just a Poet

(The County Line: April, 2024) 
...

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Side stepping love's starfish sun bathing about, time's shores....
While amoeboid parasites these sponges in resilient, take up residence
Atop her capital hill; residuum's resonant evil kismet's, true, liverwort lobbyist 
Waterspout gargoyles autism's algae tortuous angleworms this, immoral's realities ?
Shuttered truths antipodes their view; his shad's tenement tete-a-tete's, voodoo virtuosity....

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find a place

to 

waste

 time

pour a lighter head

for heavy hearts

leave the world listening

to songs with the bite

of good beer

bad smoke

and better company

a marriage of six

strings and a pack

paul got the prophets' words 

alright 

except 

they're written

not on tenement halls

but scratched

with keys 

too sodden to use

on smoke-black walls...

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The words pass from my lips
Scrambled and jumbled 
From my pen tips 
Reflections 
About my present affections 
Or a deep emotion
Like a potion 
Tantalizing my sentiment 
How it wears on me 
Like a tenement 
Knocking down my weak walls 
Forcing me to fall 
Into the depths of blunt insensible fog
The only hopes of clearing my mind 
Is defined 
By removing my madness 
In an eternal sleep 
In this heap...

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Echoes 

off tenement windows,

sound mixed 

with fluttering glimpses 

of fake hanging ghosts.



Perhaps 

we’re only just 

remembering, or 

noticing how much 

we usually forget. 



For a fiver I can get 

some rides on the outer

or inner, more 

tenement windows, 

more music. 



I take a puff 

outside Partick 

station, then go about 

my business 

with a grin....

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. for public domain

Every crack in the ceiling,
dries up every river of dreams.
When idle eyes can't view their skies,
wadi minds flood over with schemes.

And every hole in the floors
becomes a bottomless well,
where loveless hearts go wishless,
dry up in a dusty old hell.

The mission bells may toll and toll,
but our dungeons, they fill and fill.
Sweet flowers off the garden path,
wither away for want of will....

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The gunfire rages
through the cracks
of neighborhood cages
as every fetid tenement ages
and voodoo economics suppress wages
of waitresses, cabbies and sages...

while the slick-shoe alderman engages
in taxing your turnip-blood in stages
and blue-jeaned billionaires decry outrages
of clothes-hanger abortions back-stages
and gang-banger rampages --
as this feckless dog-and-pony upstages
detonated death's tick-tock gauges

-...

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Oh, heart, you're burning to the ground,
But you're still beating loudly beating
in chest, you're tenement of pretty
and wanted love that can't be found.
Love's gone; and blood runs on my veins
like yesterday, but little slower,
it's getting colder, all is over,
Love's gone, it's silent and it pains.
It's silent, and it is my lot,
But memory regrets and smolder
of burn can't warm, I'm getting older
and really spiteful, oh, my god!...

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It is cold; the floor is damp,
It is mostly dark; there is no lamp.
Bars on the windows shield from the elements,
The tenement of the mind is diligently redolent.
Of the warmth he once felt
And the happiness that filled the space he dwelt
Now he cowers in the corner hands clasped around his knees,
Resting his head on them, while shivering from the breeze. 
He glances over at the open cell, 
Overwhelmed by fear to leave the place he knows so well....

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