Quotes about alleys, page 7
The Value of Rubies
Virtuous woman
Valued beyond rubies
Till time and wear
and truth and tear
steals the light
Better for value are you
women of ill repute
in dimly lit
alleys and taverns
Who, when paid:
Tells you they love you
When you know they don't
Tells you to trust them
When you know you can't
Tells you this matters
When you know it doesn't
Though who tells you
they stay
by the hour
[...] Read more
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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Alice
KNOW you, winds that blow your course
Down the verdant valleys,
That somewhere you must, perforce,
Kiss the brow of Alice?
When her gentle face you find,
Kiss it softly, naughty wind.
Roses waving fair and sweet
Thro' the garden alleys,
Grow into a glory meet
For the eye of Alice;
Let the wind your offering bear
Of sweet perfume, faint and rare.
Lily holding crystal dew
In your pure white chalice,
Nature kind hath fashioned you
Like the soul of Alice;
It of purest white is wrought,
Filled with gems of crystal thought.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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I’m Hopeless and Happy
My dreams are undone in the wintry Midwest
Freezing on the broken sidewalks of insanity
With snowflakes of loneliness and sorrow
Falling like scattered poems waiting to be written
And later given to a melancholy girl
Trying to survive in the heartbreak world.
And in the barroom back alleys of shattered glass
I count my loose change of rejection
And feel all pitiful and forlorn
In the despairing blue night of the exhausted pale moon
But I’m still somehow happy in my soul
And promise myself to believe in everything.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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A river bears a burden
A river bears a burden
It carries far downstream,
And no man's eyes will see it
Or fathom what it means.
A river bears a burden
Beneath it's swirling toil.
It's rippling edges teasing
The sodden, silent soil.
A river bears a burden
Beneath our nightly dreams,
Our temporal excursions
Along it's watered seams.
A river bears a burden
Of many dreaming feet,
Searching all it's alleys
To a dreamer's slow heartbeat.
[...] Read more
poem by Patti Masterman
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Tropical City
Speak to me of youth, and breezes warmed by the sun
The breezes that falter down cool alleys
In the city built in the sun
Speak to me of flower vendors, and the beggar boys that run
The old ones who stagger through dusty roads
Of a city built in the sun
And I'll tell you of a hundred days when I wished all was well
Of the hours passed in fantasies
When my mind on thoughts would dwell
On greatest trains and rains and sounds of cricket games being won
of lotuses flames and evenings
In the city built in the sun
poem by Vera Sidhwa
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Decline
naked along the side of the house,
8 a.m., spreading sesame seed oil
over my body, Jesus, have I come
to this?
I once battled in dark alleys for a
laugh.
now I'm not laughing.
I splash myself with oil and wonder,
how many years do you want?
how many days?
my blood is soiled and a dark
angel sits in my brain.
things are made of something and
go to nothing.
I understand the fall of cities, of
nations.
a small plane passes overhead.
I look upward as if it made sense to
look upward.
it's true, the sky has rotted:
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Not Mine
All my life to pretend this world of theirs is mine
And to know such pretending is disgraceful.
But what can I do? Suppose I suddenly screamed
And started to prophesy. No one would hear me.
Their screens and microphones are not for that.
Others like me wander the streets
And talk to themselves. Sleep on benches in parks,
Or on pavements in alleys. For there aren't enough prisons
To lock up all the poor. I smile and keep quiet.
They won't get me now.
To feast with the chosen—that I do well.
Translated by Robert Hass
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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The Frozen Snow
heroin and homelessness,
broken relationships and guns.
cold nights, broken glass windows,
even Jesus got baptized
in a muddy river!
blood on the kitchen floor,
roaches crawl up the walls.
Agent Orange, and picket signs,
flags burning in the alleys.
babies never seen their daddy,
mothers working, minimum wage.
breaking into churches,
and sleeping at the altar,
dont turn back time, or stop the wind!
empty graves, orphaned parents.
the nursing home smells like death
seeds planted in summers past...
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poem by Eric Cockrell
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Then I Will Abide...
when justice no longer has a color,
and is not defined by economic status,
religious or sexual preference,
then i will abide by your laws!
when freedom is as real in the alleys,
the dumpsters, and on the streets
as it is in your brick houses,
then i will believe in your freedom.
when all men and women,
of all colors and ages,
are treated with equal dignity
and with respect,
then i will stand for your equality.
when each of you can look
into the eyes of your neighbor,
and see God...
then i will abide in your humanity!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Song
Venus.
Frosty lies the winter-landscape,
In the twilight golden-green.
Down the Park's deserted alleys,
Naked elms stand stark and lean.
Dumb the murmur of the fountain,
Birds have flown from lawn and hill.
But while yonder star's ascendant,
Love triumphal reigneth still.
See the keen flame throb and tremble,
Brightening in the darkening night,
Breathing like a thing of passion,
In the sky's smooth chrysolite.
Not beneath the moon, oh lover,
Thou shalt gain thy heart's desire.
Speak to-night! The gods are with thee
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poem by Emma Lazarus
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