City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Freak Me Out
City streets at night
Can be so intimidating
I'm not the toughest guy
I gotta keep my eyes open
You came out of nowhere
Man you really freak me out
I'm so afraid of you
And when I lose my cool
I don't know what to do
I know you don't mean no harm
Your just doing your thing
But man you really freak me out
Did I hurt you?
Are you okay?
Can I buy you a drink?
Ohhh what's the world coming to?
You came out of nowhere
Man you really freak me out
I'm so afraid of you
And when I lose my cool
I don't know what to do
I know you don't mean no harm
Your just doing your thing
But man you really freak me out
I'm gonna try to improve my manners (manners)
Everyone, yes everyone, is my frienddd!
[instrumental]
City streets at night (city streets at night)
City streets at night (city streets at night)
Til the morning light (til the morning light)
City streets at night (city streets at night)
Man you really freak me out
I'm so afraid of you
And when I lose my cool
I don't know what to do
I know you don't mean no harm
You're just doing your thing
But man you really freak me out..
[instrumental]
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Of Music
Music is like a city
The genres are the suburbs
The bands, the streets
The albums, the buildings
And the songs, the apartments
The streets get inspiration from other streets
They duplicate then alter them slightly.
The city is very busy and there are always
People driving through looking and listening
The city is growing every day.
The suburbs larger and larger
And some join together.
The streets longer and longer
And some old and tattered.
The building will always stay the same
But they will always be new.
The city will always keep growing
As the music goes on.
poem by by unknown author
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My Hometown
Jersey City is where I was born
I woke up to see many a dawns
It's not a bad city, it was a place to live
But there were many times it didn't forgive
The streets were tough, the winter's cold
It s city you can embrace, but one you can never hold
The streets will own you and rule you
There's not too much one can do
After some years you'll be ready to leave
It will no longer have the things you need
That's when you know it's time to leave
Because in the city you can longer believe
Now people grow up there and decide to stay
But so many many more just go a different way
6-18-10/RJH
poem by Ray Hansell
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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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New York City Rhythm
Words by Marty Panzer
Music by Barry Manilow
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When my heart is torn apart
by love I wish I had,
Well, I spend my nights in the city's lights
and things don't seem so bad.
Ya know the movement seems to soothe me,
and the temp takes control,
and I lose my blues
when the Ne w York City rhythm fill my soul;
it's the New York City rhythm runnin' thru' my life,
the pounding beat of the city streets
that keeps mydreams alive.
I'm lost, I'm found, I'm up, I'm down,
but somehow I survive.
It's got to be the New Y ork City rhythm in my life,
It's got to be the New York City rhythm in my life,
in my life.
When I'm out for love or sin,
Oh, it's good to be in town,
In the funky dives on the old west sid
there's always somethin' goin' down.
Oh yes , I live my life with strangers,
and the danger's always there,
but when I hit Broadway and it's time to play,
ya know that I don't care;
It's the New York City rhythm runnin' thru my life,
the poundin' beat of the city streets
that kee ps my dreams alive.
I'm lost, I'm found, I'm up, I'm down, ,
but somehow I survive.
It's got to be the New York City rhythm in my life,
in my life.
City rhythm, oo city rhythm.
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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City Nights
The city at night
Is like a ghost town
With one or two lost souls roamin its streets
For the most four
Business provide light to darkened streets
The dark corners provide refuge for the night crawlers
In the dark corners
Where un-needed to know things take place
Where undescribable things are done
From dusk till dawn
The city is theirs
It belongs to them
The night crawlers
They own this land
This City
At dawn they run
Run to their underground refuges
Away from the sun to underground sewers
Away from all life, the noise, the hustle and bustle of daily life
To being non-existant
poem by Cannita Melius
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The Sojourner
Are your herds all dead
That you walk the street alone?
And do you have your own bed
When the toiling day is done?
City nomad without his herd
Wanderer, pilgrim of the mind
Wont you rest your tired head
You herdsman of a kind?
Were your ancestors cattle rearers
Who sought where grasses were green?
But you have mingled with the city dwellers
Leaving your herds either dead or lean
Tell me, city nomad
Why did you leave your father's way
And choose the city, tis' sad
That you roam the streets day by day
Or are you of the gypsy race
And your clan, minstrels and magicians?
Who wander from place to place
Sleeping and waking in caravans
Foxes have holes, and bird the trees
Do you have any to call your home?
Some live in houses, some in tents
Why do choose the streets to roam?
I am but a sojourner in every city
Seeking my God and the crown
And may he lead me to that heavenly city
A better place to call my own! !
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
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Promises Unkept for friend Chad
The back streets of the city hide
a multitude of untold tales
The mean streets where the stench abides
of rancid dreams left to decay.
Far different from the countryside
the green hills and the pleasant vales.
Where simple country folk reside.
Fresh dreams emerging every day.
The city street may well decide
which man succeeds and which man fails.
The ebbing flowing surging tides
of little men who have no say.
The city fathers try to hide
(but their efforts are bound to fail.)
the city’s seamy underside.
Where petty criminals hold sway.
Some folks escape by suicide
and others fill the city’s jail.
There’s poverty on every side.
It seems the problems here to stay.
Here ideologies collide
But more is said than’s ever done.
The city has no cause for pride.
We’ve little choice but wait and pray.
The city fathers say they’ve tried
but I beg leave to doubt their word.
I’m totally unsatisfied
There’s jam tomorrow none today.
17/08/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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
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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
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Attitudes.
The moon sheds soft and silver light
upon the newly fallen snow
A master piece for our delight.
The city folk will never know.
The snow that falls on city streets.
Is all too soon polluted by
the footprints left by passing feet.
In cities different rules apply.
Country folk accept the snow
They know there’s little they can do
but wait. In time the snow must go.
Something to look forward to.
But city folk impatiently
Demand the streets should be snow free.
Wednesday,06 January 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghostown
i live in this ghostown
the whispers from the walls fall like feathers to the ground
i walk upon these cemetary streets
and i don't speak the language of the skeletons that i meet
i live in this ghostown
the acid from the architecture is burning the place down
i wander through these solitary streets
they're empty as an afterthought in purple pools of gasoline
the river's all in flames
i can't go home again
this city speaks in rain
i live in this ghostown
the coffee burns like kerosene and the color of my world is brown
i look out on these melancholy streets
it's quiet as a photograph and lonley as my vanity
the river's all in flames
i can't go home again
this city's rearranged
i'm never going to leave this ghostown
song performed by by Zox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My City
In my city the sky can cry all night;
In my city the streets can whine all night;
In my city people die all the time;
In my city, boi, in my city...
In my city, boi, God is forgotten;
people follow religion, their minds are rotten.
People kill for money, die 'cause of money,
banks spend our money, and find it funny.
Kids drink till they forget, they forget till they drink;
it's Apocalypse now, we're way past the brink...
it's a theatrical city, everyone's an actor,
everyone's waitin for next great disaster.
'I would kill for a phone' ain't just an expression,
it's more of a statement - kids full of agression.
kids full of the city, like the city's full of kids,
but they're workin on it - they're killin all the kids...
In my city the sky can cry all night;
In my city the streets can whine all night;
In my city people die all the time;
In my city, boi, in my city...
I'm a Silesian boy who moved to Tottenham,
I'm a Tottenham boy who'll always love London,
I'm a London boy who's Silesia-born,
and my people will be free - so go on, sound the horn!
Exile like Chopin, likewise keeps hoping,
Exile from Home, but somehow I'm coping...
I wasn't bought or sold, jus brought and told
you're gonna study here, and live here - be bold!
so I let my heart turn cold, f- it, why care?
carin never really got us anywhere...
nothing's holdin me back, so come and hold me back,
I ain't no ref, but I change the rules like Shaq.
it's time to speak of feelin, son, you're insecure,
that's why you want the finest chic, but she ain't the cure,
you want the fastest cars, you want the longest chain,
but none of that bulls- will take away the pain...
poem by Patryk Krzywon
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City Of Ships
CITY of ships!
(O the black ships! O the fierce ships!
O the beautiful, sharp-bow'd steam-ships and sail-ships!)
City of the world! (for all races are here;
All the lands of the earth make contributions here;)
City of the sea! city of hurried and glittering tides!
City whose gleeful tides continually rush or recede, whirling in and
out, with eddies and foam!
City of wharves and stores! city of tall façades of marble and iron!
Proud and passionate city! mettlesome, mad, extravagant city!
Spring up, O city! not for peace alone, but be indeed yourself,
warlike! 10
Fear not! submit to no models but your own, O city!
Behold me! incarnate me, as I have incarnated you!
I have rejected nothing you offer'd me--whom you adopted, I have
adopted;
Good or bad, I never question you--I love all--I do not condemn
anything;
I chant and celebrate all that is yours--yet peace no more;
In peace I chanted peace, but now the drum of war is mine;
War, red war, is my song through your streets, O city!
poem by Walt Whitman
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New York City
You called me last night on the telephone
And I was glad to hear from you cause I was all alone
You said, its snowing, its snowing! god, I hate this weather.
Now I walk through blizzards just to get us back together
We met in the springtime at a rock-and-roll show
It was on the bowery when it was time to go
We kissed on the subway in the middle of the night
I held your hand, you held mine, it was the best night of my life.
cause everyones your friend in new york city
And everything looks beautiful when youre young and pretty
The streets are paved with diamonds and theres just so much to see
But the best thing about new york city is you and me
Statue of liberty, staten island ferry, co-op city, katzs and tiffanys*
Central park, brooklyn bridge, the empire state where dylan lived**
Coney island and times square, rockefeller center
Wish I was there
You wrote me a letter just the other day
Said, springtime is coming soon so why dont you come to stay.
I packed my stuff, got on the bus, I cant believe its true
Im three days from new york city and Im three days from you
cause everyones my friend in new york city
And everything looks beautiful when youre young and pretty
The streets are paved with diamonds and theres just so much to see
But the best thing about new york city is you and me
cause everyones my friend in new york city
And everything looks beautiful when youre young and pretty
The streets are paved with diamonds and theres just so much to see
But the best thing about new york city is you and me.
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Streets of solitude
Last breaths of life pass away
From dingy shades of dark rooms.
Pracedented yet unseen
By the multitude.
The city sleeps in despondence.
The drenched, marshy streets of solitude.
Scraps of paper and posters
Of politics
Fall and wither.
Weary and musty the days go by;
A chain of sudden events,
Hardly predictable.
We spit
We stamp
We stumble
Upon the streets of solitude.
Sounds of cherubim-faced spirits
Play in the dirt,
Running helter-skelter.
Drenched in the rain,
The city cherishes them.
We holler
We rave
We ramble
At the streets of solitude.
Then a sudden sympathy, as
For a sleeping babe
When morning awakens and shines upon her face,
I sympathize
With the sleeping streets of solitude.
poem by Sahana Mukherjee
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Yes A Pauper Knows A Pauper
Yes a pauper knows a pauper.
And what they do.
Living on the city streets.
In snow or heat.
And when the rain pours down,
These people don't scatter to scoot.
With attitude.
Yes a pauper knows a pauper.
And what they do.
Living on the city streets.
In snow or heat.
Yet a hope most know,
For them...
Is leaning on,
Mean scenes.
In desperation.
Mean scenes...
To demean.
Yet a hope most know,
For them...
Is leaning on,
Mean scenes.
In desperation.
Mean scenes...
To demean.
And the streets they live on for them,
Will never be...
Good friends,
In the end!
Yes a pauper knows a pauper.
And what they do.
Living on the city streets.
In snow or heat.
And the streets they live on for them,
Will never be...
Good friends,
In the end!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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