The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.
quote by Carl Sandburg (1916)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remembering Carl Sandburg - The Fog
The fog descends
in the wee hours of dawn
like a sacred thing
moves slowly to the ground
the way mom would pour milk
from a half frozen can
in the newspaper plant
the reel has just started running
the words go so fast
they are the process of thought
reenacted on papers
millions and millions of information
precipitated to get to the right one
not all news are accurate as
we would love them to be
the fog plays with them before
the sun shines through it
what remains after are little
lovely jewels on leaves
and - our eye lashes
to help us weigh the day
by john tiong chunghoo
inspired by
Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Carl Sandburg
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ocean of Forms
I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms,
hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.
No more sailing from harbor to harbor with this my weather-beaten boat.
The days are long passed when my sport was to be tossed on waves.
And now I am eager to die into the deathless.
Into the audience hall by the fathomless abyss
where swells up the music of toneless strings
I shall take this harp of my life.
I shall tune it to the notes of forever,
and when it has sobbed out its last utterance,
lay down my silent harp at the feet of the silent.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Now being upon the haunches (as he necessarily must be in this case) is it impossible but he must be light in hand, because no horse can be rightly upon his haunches without being so.
quote by William Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Leave This City
This is the city to walk around in the rain
Staring at the barges in the harbor
And to hum songs through the night.
The city has countless streets
Bustling with people running around...
The waitress who brings me my tea every evening
And whom I like a lot although she's a White Russian
Is in this city.
The old pianist who turns around
To look at me
When he sneaks in pieces by Schumann and Brahms
While playing waltzes and foxtrot
Is also in this city.
The ferry boats that caryy passengers
To the village where I was born are in this city.
So are my memories,
All those I love,
And the graves of my loved ones.
This is the city where I have a job,
Where I earn my bread money.
And yet, in spite of all this,
This is the same city I'm leaving
Because of a woman
In another city.
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
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From Where I Stand I See The Silent Tomorrow
tomorrow comes
on small
silent feet
like a cat
from a window
overlooking
a harbor
gently,
the clouds drift
the mist and frost
slowly gone
and what the cat
sees
is the sun
smiling
and the cat
remembers her mother
the one that feeds
her with pink mice
and
sharper claws
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Prostye Dvizheniya
I continue simple moves
You continue my continuations
I am you, and you are me
I repeat, you repeat.
If you want -be silent,
Wait until it stops.
If you want keys,
2 turns around
If you want yours,
If you want somebody's,
If you want be like me
And I continue
Simple moves, I continue...
Simple moves..
We continue simple moves
Destroying irrigation.
Somewhere you find,
Somewhere you lose
I repeat, you repeat.
This is love,
Springs are jumping.
Tomorrow everyone
Can be smaller then snowflake.
We have to be on time
Not refusing.
We should be able
Continue to live.
Simple moves, continuing to live...
Simple moves...
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Where are you?
Simple moves...
song performed by by Tatu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harbor Lights
(words & music by h. williams - j. kennedy)
I saw the harbor lights
They only told me we were parting
Those same old harbor lights
That once brought you to me.
I watched the harbor lights
How could I help it?
Tears were starting.
Good-bye to golden nights
Beside the silvery seas.
I long to hold you dear,
And kiss you just once more.
But you were on the ship,
And I was on the shore.
Now I know lonely nights
For all the while my heart keeps praying
That someday harbor lights
Will bring you back to me.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tale of Three Cities
New York blasted London blasted
Singapore -
Ripped off each other's metaphoric balls,
Crumbling walls.
Priapic city monoliths -
Blue-sky scraping bastards -
Shout about their height (but really length) .
V8 arseholes didn't care -
Pumping shit into the air,
So long as they were always there to
Fart aloud a smoggy cloud,
Laughing at the weak asthmatic,
Humoured that it seems traumatic.
Watch the greedy cities oozing
Chair-bound fat committees, though they
Look a bunch of titties as they
Waffle on about the pound.
Ever thought to look around and see
That they were dead?
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
city city city city city city
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maritime Poem
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Blow rains of melodious lights,
Dizzy suns and sails
Painting their voyage to endlessness.
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Is an open sea window,
And birds appear in the distance
Searching for islands still unborn.
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Snow falls in July.
Ships laden with turquoise
Spill over the sea and are not drowned.
In the blue harbor of your eyes
I run on the scattered rocks like a child
Breathing the fragrance of the sea
And return an exhausted bird.
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Stones sing in the night.
Who has hidden a thousand poems
In the closed book of your eyes?
If only, if only I were a sailor,
If only somebody'd give me a boat,
I would furl my sails each evening
In the blue harbor of your eyes.
poem by Nizar Qabbani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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the Golden Horn Of Istanbul
THE ‘GOLDEN HORN’ OF
ISTANBUL
It is an inlet arm from the Bosphoros Strait,
Which stretches inwards towards the west;
And curves up like a deer’s horn, -
Known to the world as the ‘Golden Horn’!
It separates the old Istanbul’s historic city,
From its modern counterpart in the north;
Forming the world’s longest natural harbor,
A waterway almost 7.5 km long!
The harbor was once the Naval Headquarters
of the Byzantine Empire!
When a heavy chain guarded the inlet’s
entrance;
Stretching across the mouth of the ‘Horn’ entire;
From the Old City to the Galata Tower! *
The old city stands on seven hillocks, once
known as the ‘City of Seven Hills’;
And top of every rise, a temple, or a mosque
or a monument is seen, -
With its steeples, towers and minarets, the city
stands solemnly still!
Each building here has a story to tell;
In 1453 to the Ottoman Turks the city fell!
As I stood ruminating on one such high rise,
And saw the sun going down in the west;
The inlet waters appeared bathed in gold,
Glittering in the sun’s setting rays!
And at that moment I realized, as I looked at
the inlet nice and long,
How aptly it has been named, as the inlet of
‘The Golden Horn’!
-Raj Nandy
New Delhi
13 May 09
(*Galata Tower is located at the entrance of
the inlet- in the northern half of the city.
‘The Golden Horn’ waterway divides the
city of Istanbul into northern & southern
halves!)
High In The City
I got the time, I got my feet
Lets go hit the street
High in the city
High in the city
I got my mace and you got your knife
You gotta protect your own life
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive here in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
Lets not walk down sutton place
You know everybody there got an akitas
High in the city
High in the city
Dont wanna talk politics today
I feel too good let me have my way
High in the city
High in the city
Watch out for that guy on your right
Seen him on the news last saturday night
He was high in the city
High in the city
Hey, look theyre setting fire to that jeep
Theres not much you can keep
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
So many people feeling low
And theres only one way to go to
Get high in the city
High in the city
Lets grap a pie, lets hit the park
Ill kiss and hug you till it gets dark
Here in the city
Getting high in the city
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Dreams
the city sleeps
beneath my feet
the glow of streetlights, cars, and store signs
keep me warm tonight
its cold here in the skys
angel wings graze my skin
and the clouds collect my tears
the only way
I can find peace in this place
Is six feet below
The city streets
Or way above where the city
Sleeps
poem by Lauren Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Strength of Jesus
The strength of Jesus
Ties their hearts;
She sits by the gates of Heaven;
She sits by the weak and the lost;
She sits by her Jesus
Who is the lonely little boy,
And she visits the needy.
The strength of Jesus ties their hearts!
She sits by her because
Jesus shines
within the gates
of the city
Mar 25,2012
poem by TerriJo James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Sits On Seven Hills
The burning of the Great City that she sits on!
For she sits on seven hills;
But this warning is to the world because of Rome! !
And like a fluttering sparrow or a flying swallow,
But the end will come and only few people will be saved.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sexy without sexy parts
Raised cheeks, a pointed nose,
A wide mouth, shoulders thrust
Backward, a narrow waist,
And broad haunches
Are sexy parts a woman commands with,
Severally or collectively,
To rule men gorgeously.
A few actresses possess these.
My neighbor owns only haunches
And with that she strikes me.
You, my dear, have none.
Yet you hold me fast.
Your aura is the sexiest?
26.07.2000, Paralakhemundi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Final Preparation....
leaves, just beginning to turn,
and the silent shout of rust
deafens the empty room.
bare feet leave no tracks in gravel,
yet the birds' wings scar the sky
as they begin their journey.
the plow sits motionless weeping,
the skillet whistles to the fire.
a squirrel sits atop the woodpile,
the mountains' breathing become labored.
and the wind packs its few belongings,
tips a hat to my shadowed soul.
as we begin the long journey,
the final preparation for beginning!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Republic And Motherland
(Written after entering New York Harbor at Daybreak)
Up the vast harbor with the morning sun
The ship swept in from sea;
Gigantic towers arose, the night was done,
And--there stood Liberty.
Silent, the great torch lifted in one hand,
The dawn in her proud eyes,
Silent, for all the shouts that vex her land,
Silent, hailing the skies;
Hailing that mightier Kingdom of the Blest
Our seamen sought of old,
The dream that lured the nations through the West,
The city of sunset gold.
Saxon and Norman in one wedded soul
Shook out one flag like fire;
But westward, westward, moved the gleaming goal,
Westward, the vast desire.
Westward and ever westward ran the call,
They followed the pilgrim sun,
Seeking that land which should enfold them all,
And weld all hearts in one.
Here on this mightier continent apart,
Here on these rolling plains,
Swells the first throb of that immortal heart,
The pulse of those huge veins.
Still, at these towers, our Old-World cities jest,
And neither hear nor see
The brood of gods at that gigantic breast,
The conquering race to be.
Chosen from many--for no sluggard soul
Confronts that night of stars--
The trumpets of the last Republic roll
Far off, an end to wars;
An end, an end to that wild blood-red age,
That made and keeps us blind;
A mightier realm shall be her heritage,
The kingdom of mankind.
Chosen from many nations, and made one;
But first, O Mother, from thee,
When, following, following on that Pilgrim sun,
Thy Mayflower crossed the sea.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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The Big City Type
I woke up in a big city apartment
Rode to a big city job
On a big city subway
With hip, big city people
Worked at a big city job
In a big city skyscraper
Stood in a big city line
For lunch, heard big city jazz
On a big city radio station
It was like a big city scene
In a big budget movie
When I realized I had become
The big city type
I always wanted to be
Yet I was still me
poem by Adam Artois
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The Man Who Climbs The Highest Pole Of The Bridge...
at the highest bridge on the city of
Cebu a man in his twenties
climbs the pole and sits there overlooking
the city
the City is in panic
for he must be saved
his name is taken: Juan
Molina,32 years old,
a thief, jobless, and without
any known relatives
and he is so hungry
and it is so hot at the top
and he is coming down
if there is something to
eat
they thought he is going to jump
and kill himself
which is not the fact of the case
he simply wants to see
the whole damned city
of leaders who cannot understand
that he too needs work
to have money to buy something to
eat to pay for the rent of his boarding space,
his bills, and his toothpaste
and soap
all the while the city is angry
this man must be sent to prison
we are so disturbed
and he creates the massive
confusion
sad, sad city.
suicidal masses
luxurious lifestyles of the rich and
the famous elite
most of the poor and the
lost do not ask anymore where is God?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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