In an alley lost

Vroom vroom beep beep
extending manhood
filling streets,
our mean machines
pollute the air and mind.

While tweets of birds
and scents of bloom
are strangled, stretched
and squeeeeezed
into sanctuary coffins
we call parks.

Our progress
is the city’s skyline
it’s concrete,
with mountains crushed to gravel
by grinding teeth of steel
kablash ka-ka ba-boom, boom boom
it’s the whooshing wheels,
the sleekness of a fender
painted blue
while sea and sky
are growing greyer, greyer

In an alley find
a cardboard cot
and from a bundle heard
the homeless hiss
eeehhh eeehhh
eeeeeeeeee gghh

until it rattles close
to silence
gone… to where
in childhood meadows
skylarks sing
preet-preet-preet-la-preet.

Digital art created with Bing AI

Today I host dVerse MTB where we are doing onomatopoeia (again). I hope to see you around.

May 30, 2024

43 responses to “In an alley lost

  1. I love all the sounds, specially the last part, the sounds of the homeless hiss vs the skylarks singing. Thanks for reminding us how amazing sounds can be in our poem.

  2. This is gorgeously rendered, Bjorn! I especially like this part; “in childhood meadows skylarks sing preet-preet-preet-la-preet.” I can almost hear them 💙💙

  3. I like the way you filled the alley with sounds, Björn, and the phrase ‘extending manhood filling streets’ made me chuckle. I like the ‘sleekness of a fender painted blue while sea and sky are growing greyer, greyer’ and the skylarks singing in childhood meadows.

    • I tried to be a voice for our own dystopia, yours with all the sound of wars would be so much harder to handle I think… so well done in your poem, that sadness (and maybe the worst sound of war is silence)

  4. My father loved cars when I was growing up. Your poem reminds me of him. Thank you!

  5. A great poem, Bjorn. I loved this line….

    scents of bloom
    are strangled, stretched
    and squeeeeezed
    into sanctuary coffins
    we call parks.

    I thought at first you were going for a church funeral.

  6. Wow another poem that makes us think about how we treat this world. I loved the sounds and invented words…I love to do that, though not this time though. My favourite verse is

    While tweets of birds
    and scents of bloom
    are strangled, stretched
    and squeeeeezed
    into sanctuary coffins
    we call parks.

    Sanctuary coffins I think will stay with me….it is so true!

  7. This is indeed a dire soundscape you create here Björn and very onomatopoetic…

  8. Love this! Like the other Kim, the manhood comment made me chuckle. The duality of the end – at least for me – of the end of days for an individual, and end of days for us all, was sobering and on point. Like Laura said, this is an eco-poem – and a good one.

  9. in childhood meadows
    skylarks sing
    preet-preet-preet-la-preet.

    I love that you chose to end the poem on this sound bite.

  10. Pingback: Roberta Writes – d’Verse, Meet bar soundly with Onomatopoeia #songparody·

  11. The opening stanza captured the sounds of cities so aptly. “Sanctuary coffin” is a brilliant description. If only we did not have to go back to childhood to hear the skylark sing!

I try to reciprocate all comments. If you want me to visit a particular post, please direct me directly to that post.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.