In cities like Athens, poor houses lined narrow and tortuous streets in spite of luxurious public buildings.
quote by Stephen Gardiner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sudden Sureness!
the bullets
in your hands
are the jobs,
houses, and families,
lost to the mouth
that devours....
the dreams burning
like trash on the side
of the road....
the fields empty, turning brown.
cities of ghosts,
empty buildings to streets,
streets that kill with sudden sureness,
leaving no trace,
and no memories!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I did not find Liverpool ugly. Her stately public buildings, broad streets, public squares, and noble statues redeem her from the charge.
quote by M.E.W. Sherwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cities
(Justin Hayward)
Neon the city's sun
Taxis like beetles run, and I see
Pavements with yellow lines
Grey walls and big bold signs with darkness
Up above, all around
In the sky, on the ground
This is what, I have found
Cities, cities
Here the flowers don't grow
Here the river's just a sewer
People who move below
Buildings with smells and noise and darkness
Up above, all around
In the sky, on the ground
This is what, I have found
Cities, cities
Not for me
No, no I don't believe you
It's not the place to be
No, no I won't believe you
Here the flowers don't grow
Here the river's just a sewer
People who move below
Buildings with smells and noise and darkness
Up above, all around
In the sky, on the ground
This is what I have found
Cities, cities, cities
*************************************************************
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cities Of White Men
Those men build many houses:
They dig the earth, and they build;
They cut down the trees, and they build;
They work always - building.
From the elevation of the mountainside
I behold the clouds:
The clouds build many beautiful houses in the sky:
They build, and they tear down;
They build, and they dissolve. . . .
The cities of white men,
They are not beautiful like the cloud cities;
They are not vast, like the cloud cities. . . .
A wind-swept teepee
Is all the house I own. . .
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Where once a hillock was
Where once a hillock was
I see bulldozers, trucks
and cranes
busy digging
deeper into the earth.
Houses and tower blocks
rise where once
plants had grown green
against that kopje
and from infinity,
were undisturbed
until man’s hand
stretched out.
No one will know
how great it looked before
buildings broke the serenity
and the rich started to dwell
in houses above the cliffs
and nothing will ever mend
the damage done.
Nature is dying,
pines away and disappears
while people
are erecting buildings almost everywhere.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The lanes and streets of the city being set out, the choice of sites for the convenience and use of the state remains to be decided on; for sacred edifices, for the forum, and for other public buildings.
quote by Marcus V. Pollio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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São Paulo
São Paulo
The city that I was born in
I never liked you since I was a child
São Paulo
Now that I am grown up I still don't like you either
I don't feel safe being in the streets in São Paulo
To me São Paulo is very ugly in real life
It is only beautiful in the postcards
There is no in between
Either you are rich or poor
There are too many contrasts
São Paulo
A city that never sleeps
São Paulo
I am glad that you don't have snow
One thing that is great in São Paulo is summer, the hot weather
I would go insane if I lived in here forever
For me it is like a prison
Because it is too dangerous to walk on the streets
It is a very depressing city
São Paulo
It is a real cement city
Buildings and more buildings
Hardly any green
It is an old city
450 years old
For me São Paulo
Is like a prison cell
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Fences And Fidelities
marriages were made
to be broken, that seems to be the rule now
women have long demanded
fidelity
not 1% of unfaithfulness is considered
as an excuse
now, i travel alone, watching the long roads
approach me like a movie
houses in the cities forestalled by
tall buildings
inferior to the heights of modernization
seemingly the old houses are gone
now like marriages
except those in the suburbs
where old house still persists
with their fences
like fidelity, i guess it must be fenced
to keep it away from
infection, love a green grass
marriage still like an old lifestyle
where the wife picks the flowers
while the husband still plays
with his favorite dog
and his kids.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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America Revisited
put down your crack bowls
and your republican flags...
and let's go walking thru
the streets and alleys of America....
let's walk past the empty houses
with foreclosure signs in the yard...
past the vacant factory buildings
where the homeless break in
at night and sleep...
past the lily white churches
and the dead zone schools...
past the county jails and the courthouses
and the rooms where lawyers
buy and sell justice...
past the housing projects
where babies buy groceries...
down to the tent cities where
dreams hang in the air like opium.
down the dark streets where young
girls and boys sell their bodies
for their vampire pimps...
and everyday citizens buy them!
down to the unemployment offices
where angry people stand in
numbered lines...
past renegade gas pumps
guarded by dollar store slaves...
past the words of Jefferson, Franklin,
and Thomas Paine....
to the hypnotic ads of puffy-faced
liars with titles and plans...
down to the cemetary where
the last shreds of freedom
lie in unmarked graves....
and we call this....
America!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Survival By Instinct!
police sirens wail,
echoing off empty buildings,
down empty streets...
streets marked by angry blood.
from mouth to fist,
feet never stop moving...
going nowhere,
determined and furious.
the crush of bones
beneath pipe on pavement...
the taste of flesh,
charred and stale.
cities become graveyards,
marker by marker.
no time for names,
only the strong!
and hunger becomes anger
of the darkest kind.
do it for a couple dollars,
and a gallon of gas.
faces contorted,
demons or worse!
survival by instinct,
so close you can smell it!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Chicago Streets
So good to be home
and out of the heat.
All those excess people reminded I'm alone
as I explored the busy Chicago streets.
So good to be mild
and not full of heat.
All those old buildings reminded I'm only a child
as I explored the ancient Chicago streets.
So good to be recognized
and not sweating in the heat.
All those dollars spent reminded me of the love I'm still denied.
as I explored the poor Chicago streets.
So good to be back from running away
and back from the heavy, humid heat.
All of the luggage and vacations reminded me problems come to stay.
as I left, for a long time, those Chicago streets.
poem by Delilah Miller
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A Man May Make his Remark
good thought
almost always comes
from quiet thought
ask christ, buddha,
socrates, confucius
good thought
almost always morphs
from a multitude of thoughts
- consensus - democracy -
sorry to say - it was picked
from the streets - of athens
universities - the learning part
originated from the streets
a man may make his remark
though it may weigh less than a feather
from the bleakest of streets
an idea may brew - to change the world
the streets - dont change the world
but - the men that walk them
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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We believe the 36, nearly 40, billion pound discount given for a right to buy houses took a million houses out of the public housing sector which is desperately needed for rent.
quote by John Prescott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Officer Down
Good-bye to you Officer Rodney Holder...
Good-bye to one of our finest-most brave-
Good-bye to all of the protection you afforded us...
Your service shall not pass away with the grave;
Fifty years young you only were-
All of this town and other Texas cities came for your view...
City citizens lined the streets of your funeral procession...
Good-bye Rodney-our town-will surely miss you;
No more to see your smiling face...
No more to feel quite as secure...
No more will you Grace our city streets...
You were the very best-that is for sure;
May 3,2010
On the Loss and Funeral Of Rodney Holder-age 50
Aman of honor for 28 years.
Leaves behind a wife, a daughter and young son.
And this whole town.
poem by Theodora Onken
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Buildings Have Eyes
Pretty pretty are the girls as they go by
Chilly chilly is the air under moonlit sky
The windows watch you as you walk along
And the streets lead back to where you started from
Chorus: the cities watching and you cant get by
No matter where you hide you know the buildings have eyes
This place is lonely but you cant get away
No matter what you say you know the buildings have eyes
Silly silly are the thoughts that fill your head
Wish Id never set out, wish Id stayed in bed
You see reflections from across the street
So you better start movin stop draggin your feet
(chorus)
Money money, gotta get some money and run
Its an issue I find unenviable
It doesnt matter which way you turn
But you gotta keep trying cause you never learn
(chorus)
Funny funny how the world goes round and round
You better watch your step dont make a sound
The windows watch you as you walk along
And the streets lead back to where you started from
(chorus)
Pretty pretty
Chilly chilly
Silly silly
Money money
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Athens Beckons!
It is not just a fairy tale
But true and very much real
In the history of long long ago
There flourished the glory of Athens
And the golden age of Pericles
Just not a city of scenic beauty
But an ideal and a model city
The perfect symbol of democracy
And no special room for aristocracy
Devoted to the cause of Excellency
Surely a seat of great wisdom
Where people could enjoy utmost freedom
By digging deep into the repository
No where is found such place in all history
The mother of all epistemology
Where Socrates could write his Apology
When the justice shone on all the houses
Even the poor could smile as the virtuous
Bloomed on this cradle of fine culture
Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides
Could nourish the roots of literature
Herodotus and Thucydides
Two great chroniclers of matchless wisdom
Who took away from history all its boredom
Whoever said that history is dead
Isn't aware of the edifice on which we stand
For nations like Athens once mighty and grand
Connect us to history's unending strand!
poem by Rekha Sathya
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Mass Exodus Empties The Villages!
Mass Exodus Empties The Villages!
*******************************************Mass exodus empties the villages;
Stench and selfishness pervade the cities;
Cash-crop of buildings are cultivated in wet fields;
Seeds of famine are actively sown in the womb of earth;
Poor peasants in simple attires
Boil in their hot sweats;
Full-trousered flashy crowds
Have bloated in vitamines and fats;
In the mighty breath of vast cities
All four directions are in shambles;
Greenery has evaporated;
Even the cow has degenerated as a buffallo;
Diseases in numerous dresses
March parades in all streets;
To drain away our cash chests
State-of-art treatments have mushroomed;
Falsehood is in full blossom;
Even truth has gone pithlessand soulless;
Slogans and masks in daily life
Have spread like deadly poison;
The hearts of parents with girl children
At sundown hours are worry-flooded;
Staring in strain for the buses from roadsides
Eyes have become desert-dry;
When you screw yourself into buses
You find all bones are thoroughly shuffled;
Respect is totally forgotten;
Mercy has become the first casualty;
With rowdy mobs ruling the streets
Justice and law weep behind bars;
The school-bound tiny tots
Have forgotten outdoor play;
In the hustle-bustle of school-market
Have become the paying-coolies!
Our civilisation is in total mess
Like the rain on a city!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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We ought to be doing that with decent standard housing but if we have people who are absolutely on the streets in this case, I think it makes sense that tent cities are preferred to not having tent cities.
quote by Mike Lowry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faith and Trust
With a wife not worth your faith
And children not fit your trust,
You are sick in spite of health
And poor in spite of wealth.
(26.01.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Burn down your cities and leave our farms, and your cities will spring up again as if by magic; but destroy our farms and the grass will grow in the streets of every city in the country.
quote by William Jennings Bryan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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