My Sad Self
To Frank O’Hara
Sometimes when my eyes are red
I go up on top of the RCA Building
and gaze at my world, Manhattan—
my buildings, streets I’ve done feats in,
lofts, beds, coldwater flats
—on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind,
its ant cars, little yellow taxis, men
walking the size of specks of wool—
Panorama of the bridges, sunrise over Brooklyn machine,
sun go down over New Jersey where I was born
& Paterson where I played with ants—
my later loves on 15th Street,
my greater loves of Lower East Side,
my once fabulous amours in the Bronx
faraway—
paths crossing in these hidden streets,
my history summed up, my absences
and ecstasies in Harlem—
—sun shining down on all I own
in one eyeblink to the horizon
in my last eternity—
matter is water.
Sad,
I take the elevator and go
down, pondering,
and walk on the pavements staring into all man’s
plateglass, faces,
questioning after who loves,
and stop, bemused
in front of an automobile shopwindow
standing lost in calm thought,
traffic moving up & down 5th Avenue blocks behind me
waiting for a moment when ...
Time to go home & cook supper & listen to
the romantic war news on the radio
... all movement stops
& I walk in the timeless sadness of existence,
tenderness flowing thru the buildings,
my fingertips touching reality’s face,
my own face streaked with tears in the mirror
of some window—at dusk—
where I have no desire—
for bonbons—or to own the dresses or Japanese
lampshades of intellection—
Confused by the spectacle around me,
Man struggling up the street
with packages, newspapers,
ties, beautiful suits
toward his desire
Man, woman, streaming over the pavements
red lights clocking hurried watches &
movements at the curb—
And all these streets leading
so crosswise, honking, lengthily,
by avenues
stalked by high buildings or crusted into slums
thru such halting traffic
screaming cars and engines
so painfully to this
countryside, this graveyard
this stillness
on deathbed or mountain
once seen
never regained or desired
in the mind to come
where all Manhattan that I’ve seen must disappear.
poem by Allen Ginsberg
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Related quotes
Some Bridges
Every day I walk out in this torn up world
And I fight to survive
Im laughing when I make it to the saturday
And Im alive
Carrying your smile with me
Carrying your smile with me
Everywhere I look I see this world slippin down
That low road, day by day
And I just go on working for the things I need
And making my own way
Carrying your smile with me, oh yea
Carrying your smile with me
Take a walk on the troubled side of this old town
Take a walk on the broken streets and the buildings falling down
Look at all these kids with nothing but trouble in their eyes
Trouble in their future, trouble in their lives
Some bridges are falling down
Some bridges are still around
Take a walk on the shaded uptown avenue
Some people are doing well no matter how they do
And I know theres more to life than what you own
But I see so many good things, things Ive never known
Some bridges are falling down
Some bridges are still around
Every night I listen to the sound of the street
Lying in my bed
I love to see the dreams that are dancing there
In the light above your head
And sometimes I get so weary
And when hope is caving in
You fill me with your love and your laughter, baby
Until I get back up again
Carrying your smile with me
(take a walk on the streets of this divided town)
Carrying your smile with me
(take a walk on the smoking edge of the battleground)
Carrying your smile with me
(take a look at the situation, the poverty and the desperation)
(take the time for the realization)
Everyday Im carrying your smile with me
(take a walk in the daylight)
Carrying your smile with me
(some bridges are falling down)
Carrying your smile with me
(some bridges are still around)
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fat Man And His Origami
the fat man one day gets fed up with so much noise.
he goes out and faces the traffic
and with his strong determined hands he folds cars into deers
demented streets into stairways
high rise buildings into cliffs and mountains
traffic signs into sunflowers and electric poles into poplar trees
the smog into some breeze from the sea
the crazy world into the hum of an old Chinese village
somewhere in Shanghai he lives there
as Lao Tzu
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Six o’clock on a Friday morning
It’s six o’clock on a Friday morning
and I wait for my bus
and across the street,
the lights are burning cheerful and yellow
in the square and dome shaped windows
of the state library
and I wonder what documents are kept there
Street hawkers sell newspapers and sweets
in front of the Pretoria News,
while passengers are already
catching busses in rows.
There’s an icy chill
that hangs in the morning dawn light
and there’s a skew pointed obelisk
that is in front of the high court chambers
and a newspaper heading
talks about the recession
that is blowing hot and cold,
but it’s freezing
and the cold even eats
right through my leader jacket.
On the east side of Vermeulen Street
the sky becomes a light yellow,
while the blue of the heaven
folds open all over the rest
and streetlights stand in a long row
up the street past traffic lights.
Schoolgirls dressed in blue
are watching school boys with red jerseys
and young women
stand and shake
from the cold and I wonder,
how the old red delivery bicycle
behind the pillar
are not getting stolen
where it stands every morning on its place.
There’s a street sign that points to the Pierneef museum
into the L te Groen Eureka factory building,
but it’s still too early
to go and look at paintings
and I wonder how
the Pierneef paintings inside looks.
On the side of a building
I am amazed at the Tswane sign,
but this big city
will always stay Pretoria for me
and I wonder how people
can build buildings so pressed into each other
and look at old and new buildings
standing rowed in onto each other
and the bus stays away,
while others come and go
and I wait
a while longer in the cold.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Camera Eye
Grim-faced and forbidding,
Their faces closed tight,
An angular mass of new yorkers
Pacing in rhythm,
Race the oncoming night,
They chase through the streets of manhattan.
Headfirst humanity,
Pause at a light,
Then flow through the streets of the city.
They seem oblivious
To a soft spring rain,
Like an english rain
So light, yet endless
From a leaden sky.
The buildings are lost in the limitless rise.
My feet catch the pulse and the purposeful stride.
I feel the sense of possibilities,
I feel the wrench of hard realities.
The focus is sharp in the city.
Wide-angle watcher
On lifes ancient tales,
Steeped in the history of london.
Mist in the streets of westminster.
Wistful and weathered,
The pride still prevails,
Alive in the streets of the city.
Are they oblivious
To this quality?
A quality
Of light unique to
Every citys streets.
Pavements may teem with intense energy,
But the city is calm in this violent sea.
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time And Its Daughter
Time and its Daughter
I love your face and your face loves itself
For its perfect nose, green eyes and rosy lips
And your fragrance has a Narcissistic allure.
The way you walk pavements adore you
rain shies away as not to make your hair wet
I love your face and your face loves itself.
When you cross the street car horn blears
All by themselves and white cars turn pink
And your fragrance has a Narcissistic allure
Sun doesn´t burn your skin, makes it golden.
Till, one day, the mirror tells of a wrinkle, and
you know years are ganging up on you.
You only enemy is time it waits in the wings.
As furrows settle on your forehead.
I love you face, your face doesn´t love itself
Car horn doesn´t blare anymore, get off
The road you lazy old woman, they honker
Your fragrance of youth has lost its allure
poem by Oskar Hansen
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An Open Letter To NYC
Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Staten
From the Battery to the top of Manhattan
Asian, Middle-Eastern and Latin
Black, White, New York you make it happen
Brownstones, water towers, trees, skyscrapers
Writers, prize fighters and Wall Street traders
We come together on the subway cars
Diversity unified, whoever you are
We're doing fine on the One and Nine line
On the L we're doin' swell
On the number Ten bus we fight and fuss
'Cause we're thorough in the boroughs and that's a must
I remember when the Duece was all porno flicks
Running home after school to play PIX * 1
At lunch I'd go to Blimpies down on Montague Street
And hit the Fulton Street Mall for the sneakers on my feet
Dear New York I hope you're doing well
I know a lot's happen and you've been through hell
So, we give thanks for providing a home
Through your gates at Ellis Island we passed in droves
Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Staten
From the Battery to the top of Manhattan
Asian, Middle-Eastern and Latin
Black, White, New York you make it happen
The L.I.E. the B.Q.E
Hippies at the band shell with the L.S.D.
Get my BVD's from VIM
You know I'm reppin' Manhattan the best I can
Stopped off at Bleeker Bob's got thrown out
Sneakin' in at 4:00 am after going out
You didn't rob me in the park at Dianna Ross
But everybody started looting when the light went off
From the South South Bronx on out to Queens Bridge
From Hollis Queens right down to Bay Ridge
From Castle Hill to the Lower East Side
From 1010 WINS to Live At Five
Dear New York this is a love letter
To you and how you brought us together
We can't say enough about all you do
'Cause in the city were ourselves and electric too
Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Staten
From the Battery to the top of Manhattan
Asian, Middle-Eastern and Latin
Black, White, New York you make it happen
Shout out the South Bronx where my mom hails from
Right next to High Bridge across from Harlem
To the Grand Concourse where my mom and dad met
Before they moved on down to the Upper West
I see you're still strong after all that's gone on
Life long we dedicate this song
Just a little something to show some respect
To the city that blends and mends and tests
Since 911 we're still livin'
And lovin' life we've been given
Ain't nothing gonna take that away from us
Were lookin' pretty and gritty 'cause in the city we trust
Dear New York I know a lot has changed
2 towers down but you're still in the game
Home to many rejecting know one
Accepting peoples of all places, wherever they're from
Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Staten
From the Battery to the top of Manhattan
Asian, Middle-Eastern and Latin
Black, White, New York you make it happen
song performed by by Beastie Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Downtown Lights
Sometimes I walk away
When all I really wanna do
Is love and hold you right
There is just one thing I can say
It's all right, can't you see
The downtown lights
In love we're all the same
We're walking down an empty street
And with nobody callin' your name
Empty streets, empty nights
The downtown lights
*How do I know you feel it
How do I know you feel it
How do I know you feel it
How do I know it's true
Can't you see
Nobody loves you this way
It's all right
Tonight and every night
Let's go walking down the city streets
Let's walk in the cool evening light
Wrong or right, the endless sight
The downtown lights
It will be all right
It will be all right
The downtown lights
Yeah, yeah, yeah
(*Repeat)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Downtown lights
The neons and the cigarettes
The rented rooms and rented cars
The crowded streets, the empty bars
Chimneytops, trumpets
The golden lights, the loving prayers
Colored shoes, the empty trains
I'm tired of cryin' on the stairs
Downtown lights
It'll be all right
It'll be all right
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Walk These Streets Alone
I walk these streets alone why U ask, because that's all i know and the reason i'm so ignorant is because him always on the go
I walk these streets alone meeting customer after customer getting in and out of random cars
I walk these streets alone as if the streets are empty as i go on my devilish duty.
I walk these streets alone clueless to the danger surrounding me, as if him invisible to any danger.
I walk the streets alone as if every person i meet sees me as a stranger.
I walk these streets alone, as sad as it may seem i prefer my own company but at times i still get lonely.
I walk these streets alone but don't feel sorry for me, for i know what i'm getting myself into. and i know the consequences if i get caught
I walk these streets alone regardless of what I've been taught...
poem by Leon Scott
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Waiting For Him
With a look of hope
On the face
Eyes gleaming
Longing to see her desire
Fulfilled
She sat in the window
Looking at the street
Waiting for him to arrive
Arms of the clock
Kept moving
Her desire
Remained starving
Color of the face
Kept changing
Pink became yellow
In no time
Eyes moved
From street to the clock
Now and then
Afternoon went
And evening arrived
No sign of
Her love to be seen
Eyes became wet
Tears started flowing
One more day
Had left her crying
Waiting for him
Had become
Her only pastime
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Bus ride at night
At quarter to five
the driver refuses,
that I get on a bus
in Burnett street
because it is already full.
There are men, woman and children
and we talk various languages
while we wait for the bus
and I see a car guard
dancing in the street
while he does tricks like a clown.
We wait on the next bus
and the afternoon passes
and the bus is very late
and it stays away
and just Putco and North Star busses
stop at other places.
At dusk the bus appears
and it’s got a double deck,
but is also full
and on the top level the roof is so low
that I bump my head
while it draws from the curb.
There’s no place to sit down
before we travel halfway to the city
and there’s a crowd of people around me
and we sit tight against each other
and in the front a child is holding onto a bar
while she licks the window with her tongue
and try to draw spit lines.
The bus braids through cars,
but it takes longer than an hour
to ride two stages
and a woman calls her husband
to pick her up at church square.
In Visagie Street the cars stand in a traffic jam
and it becomes night
while we wait in the traffic
and I embark from the bus
and twist through the pedestrians
and everywhere there are people
that stand in dark corners
and alleyways
and shout at each other in foreign languages.
At Church square I see stars in the sky,
but uncle Paul looks friendly
while the lights
of a few cars passes by
and I see how his men
are protecting him
and there’s nobody else in the street
and I wonder what to do
if the last bus has already left.
I wait at night at a bus stop
and an old black man
comes and stand near me
and we are both glad,
to catch a ride
on the last bus.
The bus is lighted brightly
And it’s comfortable and hot inside
and I see the zoo passing by
just before the bus stops for me
and red lights
disappears in the distance
and the evening wind tugs at my jacket,
but my house is near.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Pavements
there are traces on the pavements
there are eyes on the pavements
sadly looking at us
pavements are like history on strata and decaying leaves
there are booksful of words on the pavements
on the pavements
there are faces
ı haVE BEEN ACquı Nted with
looking at me lonely and sadly
the pavements look as they have come from above
and constructed there
on the pavements
there are many memories carved
there are lonely traces on the pavements
there are eyes on the pavements
we tread on
ı have acquinted with... faces look at me sadly and lonely
the pavements must have drunk from various waters
from many sourCes and fountains
who guesses who passed and gone on this pavements?
there are traces on the pavements
there are faces on the pavements
looking at me..lonely and sadly
when ı walk
and stroll on them lonely and slowly and slowly
Ali TÜRK KESKİ N Translatı on Metin SAHİ N
poem by Metin Sahin
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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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Poor Inheritance
Boulevards of light
With only exotic cars
Mountain buildings by east
All is classic around me
Watching and walking Gradually
Pleasure with emotion i am
Thousand kilometers i walk unknow
My brain is rich with what i see
Eyes begin to close
Imagine begins
My vision is bright
I wish to live on the street
The broken liquid run across my face
When i opened my eyes
The red shirt
below the breeze north and south
Father!
Why grandfather was poor
Why thee are poor
Why i am poor.
poem by alfusainey Sonko
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I'm In The Mood Again
Hail to the taxis
They go where I go
Farewell the newspapers that know more than I know
Flung under a street-lamp still burning at dawn
I'm in the mood again
I walk the damp streets rather than slumber
Along the fine windows of shameless and plunder
But none of their riches could ever compare
I'm in the mood again
I don't know what's come over me
But it's nothing that I'm doing wrong
You took the breath right out of me
Now you'll find it in the early hours
In a lover's song
I lay my head down on fine linens and satin
Away from the mad-hatters who live in Manhattan
The Empire State Building illuminating the sky
I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood, I'm in the mood again.
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Of Worcester
Worcester, the city of noise,
Walking along these city streets,
Seeing people busy,
pacing,
Cracked city walks,
Aged city houses,
Beautiful city air, '
Never seems to be a minute to spare,
As cars stream along,
Cops and fire trucks pass down my street.
Loud children playing in the streets.
As I walk down the street of mine,
I hear parents yelling at their children.
Dogs barking as you walk by,
Houses that are old and crusty,
Men and women fighting.
This right here is the city I was born in.
The City Of Worcester!
poem by Cassandra Prew
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Why I Love To Travel
Walking the cobbled stone streets
Of some ancient city at dusk
Looking at worn out old buildings
Marveling at their grace and beauty
And musing over what they must have witnessed
Touching plaster
As it crumbles under my hand
I look at various intricately carved doorways
And
Wonder
Who entered
Who left
I feel the sun
Dip
Down
Low
And bathe everything in her saffron glow
As the ghosts of old worlds
That were once magnificent universes
Teeming with their lives, loves, and battles
The personal soap operas
Of forgotten men and women
Dance in my head
I love this time of day
As birds begin to chirp from nowhere
Things start to move and come to life again
There is a scent in the air
Soft
Made of dirt, native foliage, perfume, sweat
And something
Intangible
It soothes me
Makes me forget myself
I like getting lost in the beauty of ancient cities
Becoming nothing
I can be no one here
It's a time of day when
The souls of these buildings speak
If you'll only
Stop
And
Listen
They have so much to say
Sitting at a table at some local cafe
Just
Watching
As the evening breeze begins to softly whisper
To caress my cheek
Make the leaves rustle in the trees
I close my eyes
To the soothing coolness
Let this sweetness carry me away..
poem by Rabia Minhas
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Street Light
The shine of many city streets
Confuses any countryman;
It flickers here and flashes there,
It goes as soon as it began,
It beckons many ways at once
For him to follow if he can.
Under the lamp a woman stands,
The lamps are shining equal well,
But in her eyes are other lights,
And lights plus other lights will tell:
He loves the brightness of that street
Which is the shining street to hell.
There's light enough, and strong enough,
To lighten every pleasant park;
I'm sorry lights are held so cheap,
I'd rather there were not a spark
Than choose those shining ways for joy
And have them lead me into dark.
poem by John Crowe Ransom
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Ruins
Its so quiet in the ruins walking though the old town
Stones crumbling under my feet I see smoke for miles around
Oh its enough to make you weep, all that remains of the main street
Up in the park on sunday, dogs chasing and the children played
Old man with his head down, cant see nothing more around...no
But he remembers how it used to be, back in the old days,
So nice to see you coming back in this town again
Its nice to see a friendly face come peeping through having tea
In the afternoon, so nice to see you coming back in this town again...
Ah but its all changed winter turned on a man
Came down on day when no-one was looking and it
Stole away the land, people running scared, losing hands
Dodging shadows of falling sand, buildings standing like empty shells
And nobody...helping no-one else
Young child with his hands high, aint able to see no reason why...no
But he remembers how it used to be, back in the old days,
So nice to see you coming back in this town again
Its nice to see a friendly face come peeping through
Youd better know what youre going through now
You came back here to find your home is a black horizon
That you dont recognize, evil destruction has taken everything
Youd better walk on the side while youre still walking
Just keep on walking on down the street keep your distance
From the people you meet. oh lord and youd better watch your eyes
cause if smoke gets in them, baby you wont rise again.
Wheres it leading to freedom at what cost
People needing more and more and its all getting lost
I want back, I want back
Back to the time when the earth was green
And there was no high walls and the sea was clean
Dont stop that sun to shine, its not yours or mine...no.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loves On The Line
Tell me baby
Have we lost everything that we had before
What do you do in the day
When I walk out the door
I can see you made up your mind
And I know our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
With each passing day
I gotta watch more and more what I say to you
I can feel your eyes looking through me
As I sit at the table at dinnertime
I can feel our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
I watch our kids
Growin up, going to school
Is there anything else for us now
Are we both just fools
Wasting our precious time
At night we lay in bed
But its like youre not even there
Theres something real bad
Going wrong somewhere
Last night I heard you cry
And I know our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line, our loves on the line
Loves on the line
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red Ants...
The red ants are not red...
They are blacks hired
To mow down their own
Out of sinkholes
Onto pavements
The red ants are not ants...
They are human beings reduced
To machines that bulldoze
Those whose plight they share
For a meal
Note: In the City of Johannesburg, the poor occupying the innercity's delapidated buildings (so-called sinkholes) are forcefully evicted by armies of men in red overalls (popularly known as the red ants) , clearing the buildings as part of the inner city regeneration programme...
poem by Moses Mtileni
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