I'm about four skyscrapers behind.
quote by Philip Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Progress (a concrete jungle)
Cloudy green
Lush Forest, made
of the stuff
dreams are made of,
a jungle of
culture and
heritage-
now a
city.
Dull grey
buildings, wailing
cries of bustling
cars in the
distance.
Skyscrapers, Skyscrapers
scrape
the
sky.
and the ever-
progressing society
labels it a
Jungle. All
these trucks
and bulldozers,
all part of
the immutable
progression of
Time,
of the long
and dreary
process we call
Development.
And
Skyscrapers, Skyscrapers
they
scrape
the
sky.
poem by Ballerina With Fins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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E: Simple
We've got it simple
Cause we've got a band
And we've got cymbals in the band
We've got it simple
Cause we've got a band
And we've got cymbals in the band
What is a band without cymbals?
Ooh ooh cymbals are grand
We've got a saxophone
Cause we've got a band
And we've got a saxophone in the band
We've got a saxophone
Cause we've got a band
And we've got saxophone in the band
What is a band without saxophone
Ooh ooh saxophone is grand
Cymbals and saxophones
Saxophones and cymbals (2x)
We've got Be-bop
Cause we've got a band
And we play Be-bop in the band
We've got skyscrapers
And it seems a pretty tune
Every band needs skyscrapers too
What is a band without skyscrapers
Ooh ooh skyscrapers is grand
Sim-Bop & Be-Bophone
Sky-Balls & Sax-Scraper
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost in the World
He had come, a rebirth-like it was, reincarnated
He had seen all, heard all, witnessed all, and wondered
Couldn't believe, couldn't, comprehend.
He had seen them talk to themselves,
Gadgets in ears, they talk to themselves,
They box the air and talk to themselves,
He had tried to; persuade, to drive sense into them
In air his, voice had gone, could not a waken them
Whatever they were, all these seemed to belong to them
He had, gone for the cattle shed, not there but, a sky- scrapper
He had, gone for the stick granaries, not there, but, a sky crapper
He had, looked for his hut and his brothers', all, skyscrapers, skyscrapers.
He yelled, they couldn't hear, they hurried on,
Their black paths, with moving boxes on wheels, on and on
Up the stars, he flew, dejected, unceremoniously, on.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Simple
Weve got it simple
Cause weve got a band
And weve got cymbals in the band
Weve got it simple
Cause weve got a band
And weve got cymbals in the band
What is a band without cymbals?
Ooh ooh cymbals are grand
Weve got a saxophone
Cause weve got a band
And weve got a saxophone in the band
Weve got a saxophone
Cause weve got a band
And weve got saxophone in the band
What is a band without saxophone
Ooh ooh saxophone is grand
Cymbals and saxophones
Saxophones and cymbals (2x)
Weve got be-bop
Cause weve got a band
And we play be-bop in the band
Weve got skyscrapers
And it seems a pretty tune
Every band needs skyscrapers too
What is a band without skyscrapers
Ooh ooh skyscrapers is grand
Sim-bop & be-bophone
Sky-balls & sax-scraper
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's the downtown area of Tupelo. Did you see the skyscrapers? Two stories.
quote by Bobby Heenan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There is nothing more poetic and terrible than the skyscrapers' battle with the heavens that cover them.
quote by Federico Garcia Lorca
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My people in Khartoum
The war took my people to Khartuom
The war destroyed my people
The war destroyed their culture
The war destroyed their identity
The war lost their values and ethics
My people in Khartoum
They walk barefoot
They beg on the streets
They sleep on street
They sleep in open air
They sleep under unfinished skyscrapers
They’re chased anytime under skyscrapers
They sleep in tents of cardboards
They sleep in tents of sisal and nylon sacks
They eat leftovers from Northern dining tables
The children scavenged in dust pin
My tears drop, dropp ….dropp hundred
Times for their suffering
My mouth jeers, jeers ….jeers hundred
Times for their suffering
May my people sail on my tears home South
The war is over
Go home and build your beautiful grass houses
That don’t leak like cardboard and sack tents
Go and cultivate the land of your fathers
Leave Khartoum, leave Khartoum
Where there’re first, second and third classes
Of people
poem by David Aoloch Bion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The only things that the United States has given to the world are skyscrapers, jazz, and cocktails. That is all. And in Cuba, in our America, they make much better cocktails.
quote by Federico Garcia Lorca
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Skyscrapers
Skyscrapers… remote, unpartisan…
Turning neither to the right nor left
Your imperturbable fronts….
Austerely greeting the sun
With one chilly finger of stone….
I know your secrets… better than all the policemen
like fat blue mullet along the avenues.
poem by Lola Ridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chicago in February
Even the skyscrapers
on Lake Shore Drive
somehow look
desolate and desperate
as they peer across
ice floes in the lake
toward April blossoms
somewhere in the neighborhood
of southern Mississippi
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I want to be a Pilot
Yesterday my grandson called me and said;
'I want to be a Pilot Grandpa.'
'That sounds good sonny
As I missed that opportunity
And hope you pick me up at a stopover
On your way over the seven seas to a better place
Without hitting the skyscrapers.' I said happily.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Tonight, we gather to affirm the greatness of our nation - not because of the height of our skyscrapers, or the power of our military, or the size of our economy. Our pride is based on a very simple premise, summed up in a declaration made over two hundred years ago.
quote by Barack Obama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Earthquake
When mother earth cries quietly you get rain
And when she is happy you get sunshine.
Very seldom she gets angry
And then the proud fragile skyscrapers shake for response.
* Earth knows a thousand stories of human sorrow.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I Was a Kid
I never thought of become an adult.
But the time-storm has taken me to the worst position.
I lost my old friends.
Where is my playground?
Skyscrapers swallowed the paradise
And it's almost a concrete prison now.
Adulthood is a heavy burden and this mystery play is horrible
Struggle for existence?
I want to sit on the swing again and skip to my childhood.
Who erased my chalk drawing on the blackboard?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Great Encounter
The Great encounter
The mountains, that kept the sky from strangling us,
has all but disappeared. The sky has now swallowed
the roof of our houses. It is alarming, to be squished
between soil and sky as they embrace with selfish
lust in their hearts; finally intercourse. We must prise
them apart by building egocentric Dubai towers and
boasting Malaysian skyscrapers, to keep the sky pure,
and not let it sink into debauchery with mother earth.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Big Apple Dreamin' (Hippo)
We're so young and pretty, we're so young and clean
So many things that we have never seen
Let's move from Ohio, sell this dam' old store
Big Apple dreamin' on a wooden floor
Skyscrapers and subways and stations
Staring up at the United Nations
New York is waiting for you and me, baby
Waiting to swallow us down
New York, we're coming to see what you're made of
Are you as great as you sound
Heard about them massages, and all those dirty shows
I read somewhere some places never close
While we waste time on yokels, comin' through the door
Big Apple dreamin' on a wooden floor
Skyscrapers and subways and stations
Staring up at the United Nations
New York is waiting for you and me, baby
Waiting to swallow us down
New York, we're coming to see what you're made of
Are you as great as you sound
New York is waiting for you and me, baby
Waiting to swallow us down
New York, we're coming to see what you're made of
Are you as tough as you sound
Oh, New York is waiting for you and me, baby
Waiting to swallow us down, whoo-oo
New York, we're coming, to see what you're made of
Are you as tough as you sound
Yeah, New York is waiting, baby
Waiting to swallow us down,
New York, we're coming, see what you're made of
You can't be as tough as you sound
Oh, New York, you and me, baby
Waiting to swallow us down,
New York, we're coming see what you're made of
Are you as great as you sound
Oh, New York, Oh, New York we're coming
Oh, we're coming to see what you're made of
Oh, you can't be as tough as you sound
Me and my baby, we're coming
Oh, we're coming
They're waiting for you and me, baby
Oh... (Fading out dialog)
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Merwin
there is no oxygen in the university
like there is in the house
beside a hill
where the river flows
and some birds sing
yet you too miss the city
and you go back there
and live a life
of both
city and rural
like a pendulum
to and fro
all because poetry
tells you to do so
flowers and poles and clouds and skyscrapers
and waterfalls and
citystreets and cafes by the side
and then back to
a picnic with wife and kids
on the grass and plains
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Temple Of The Self # 3
computer technology,
living like machines.
skyscrapers, housing projects
swallow up the green.
spray your food, get a pill,
walking in a dream.
safe sex, forced abortions,
and nothing is obscene.
and the sound of the heart
shakes the ground.
hunger burns, the sea churns,
and babies drown.
you pray to God,
but your prayers fall amid the furor.
in the temple of the self,
bowing down to the mirror!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I see through my little window the foggy morning
I looked at the Virgin mountain range,
Lonely skyscrapers visible yesterday
But I couldn't see none of them today
As all covered by the thick fog.
Oh! This painful wake up in the morning,
Last night I dreamed Alexander the great, his father, Ptolemy and Hephaistion
We were discussing how we conquer the World again?
Dear fog, I shall be much grateful to you,
If you could cover my complicated past and the dreamy future likewise
As I want today only.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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When I enrolled to my old school
Yes it's still situated in the same place.
And it's very hard to find.
Surrounding almost changed.
They have flatten with bulldozers all and made skyscrapers around.
A concrete city! But it's situated in the same place.
My old teachers were not there and the belfry hall is very old.
Thatched roof converted to tin sheets and there were few more class rooms.
Mango and Jack-fruit trees no more.
Where were my old friends?
The Principal is my friend's son
Who was surprised?
When I asked that I want to enroll.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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