City of the Mindful Heart. For KV.
The inhabitants are rightly proud –
let’s take the guided tour…
they show you first (they’ve never been inside,
themselves.. though they know someone who has…)
the Palace, it’s still called,
the seat of government… throughout
its sometimes turbulent, sometimes complacent rule,
it’s stood for that central place where golden hearts
seek unity in national multiplicity;
and seek to care for multiplicity…
not far away, that great domed building,
it’s been temple, church, mosque in its time,
been desecrated, restored, so many times;
and truth to tell, while it’s the symbol
of the nation, there are many more
who are proud of it, than have entered it…
here too, a quiet place to find
the unity in multiplicity…
what will they show you next? Depends…
The lively Central Market, vivid in that multiplicity?
The great Museum and Library, where
The nation’s treasures (and some plunder
from the glory years of empires won and lost)
gleam like golden giants to our pygmy eyes?
Or perhaps the huge, round, stone Arena
where in former years, men fought to death
(some say it’s coming back..): celebrated
battles won; fireworks, clowns and circuses –
whatever brought the greatest crowds;
here – appalled, delighted, bored - you’ll bring
the children anyway – you’ll see what ‘popular’
means, this very day…
Traffic regulations, ever tighter, now control your tour;
a glimpse of lakes and parks perhaps;
city dwellers recovering their humanity;
a place to be themselves, and know it.
Unless you ask – guidebook carefully perused
before your trip – they’ll miss out that quiet
‘residential area’ full of blue plaques (no time to read) ,
where peacefully, behind closed doors,
individuals adventure far into the mind;
fantasise; invent; look deep into the heart;
their passports are well stamped; and yet
there are no frontiers here.
So now, you’ve done the guided tour;
seen everything – and yet seen nothing;
you’re a tourist in a foreign city; and
this is a working city; proud of its past,
shaping its future, it exists, and always has,
only in the present; but stay awhile,
you’ll find it irresistible..
This is the city of the mind;
this is the place of poetry; it’s all around;
Kenneth, you’ve just written
a comprehensive guidebook to this place;
called it ‘On the Nature of Poetry’;
an art, you say, which has for 4000 years,
‘distilled the spoken thoughts of mankind’;
a finely-carved new monument,
set by the lake, the park;
the distant view of snowy mountain;
how thoughtful to include a fountain;
how appropriate. (The guided tour
sets out from Place de Métaphore..)
(Kenneth Verity, Shepheard-Walwyn, £25)
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Singapore - The City I Dream To Visit
One of my cherished wishes is to visit the 'Lion City' of Singapore
It is a city where I have always dreamt to go for a tour.
A city so small in size but so huge in terms of achievement
And holds such a prominent place in the entire Asian continent.
It is a city that represents life, warmth and fun
And has established itself as a unique place under the Sun.
I always dream that someday I will visit this spectacular city
Though I do not know when I will get that golden opportunity.
Oklahoma Heritage Center
I wish you could have been with us
When we went on a trip the other day
Our tour guide did a great job
With the Heritage Center on display
The building was renovated
And done with such style and grace
Housing historical pieces
It’s a very exceptional place
The furniture is extraordinary
And you should see the glass chairs
The history just seeps into your mind
And done with wonderful flair
You learn about Oklahomans
That founded this wonderful state
Going way back to the beginning
We can’t even begin to relate
We’re so proud of our heritage
And I know you would love to enter
A special place of past history
Called Oklahoma Heritage Center!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Place From Our Childhood
There is a place from our childhood;
we like to visit now and then,
to recapture our youth,
through the years that has slipped away.
A place that has a magic touch,
even through the years it has changed.
A place where sunshine,
still dances on the water
of rippling waves.
Where the wildlife still gather,
free from harm.
A place of solitude,
where you can find
a little peace of mind.
A place within a city that has not
been strangled by any human hand.
Somewhere you can while time away,
with dreams of another day.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Behind Closed Doors
Written by new order
There is a secret place
Underneath a tree
Where if you go and haste
You will find a key
The key will open doors
And you will look inside
The things that you will see
Will open up your eyes
At any given time
On every other street
The city comes to life
Though everyones asleep
A man beats up his wife
He doesnt wanna keep
Behind closed doors
Theyre in retreat
I dont know what makes me stay
The city life just aint the same
Theres something wrong with kids today
I blame the parents anyway
Theres no hope
No one to trust
I cant cope
Its obvious
Please dont take my drugs away
Im gonna give them up someday
There is a place somewhere
That I could call a home
Id live without a care
Id never be alone
One day I will get there
I feel it in my bones
I check upon the scores
I listen to the coors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
They still want more
Behind closed doors
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the spirit of Rumi - 27
‘O My Beloved –
I lose myself in the world’s distracting multiplicity,
yet cannot find the One in my restless mind –
I am in a desert place, a place of desolation… ’
My Beloved said
see the reeds, gently swaying like swooning dervishes
on the river bank, their feet in the water –
a man could sit for hours and watch them –
are they not beautiful?
See now the reed-flute, so carefully crafted,
waiting there to sound out sadness, love and joy –
is it not beautiful?
See the musician – how his eyes shine
with the music in his soul!
Is he not beautiful?
Hear the music that he plays –
telling its stories of life and death, of heaven and earth –
is it not beautiful?
Now watch him as he plays
the music which is himself
on the flute made from the willing reed –
am I not the One you hear in this?
I am beautiful in My Oneness;
I am beautiful in My multiplicity;
Is there a greater miracle than this?
And you, the witness of all this in Me –
is there a greater miracle than yourself?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My City, My Town
My city, my town
The day u were birthed
No one regretted
My City
The glory of both the young and old
a site for everyone to behold
My city
A place of great edifices
a town with wonderful places
Four and two-legged machines
Fills this land unconditionally
A place of constant influx
Beautiful lush green grass
Filled the lawns at every corner
Bridges everywhere
as long as monumental caterpillars
Masts of every network
as tall as the Eiffel Tower of Paris,
A total amazement..
My city,
A beauty to uphold,
Now a story yet untold
My city, oh my town
You are losing your luster,
colour and radiance
That made humans of all race
want to advance, to seek solace
My city, My town
The land that brought memories
of neighborliness,
Everyone, together as of same parents
Awake from your slumber
Oh my great city, 'The Garden-City'
The crown princess of Rivers state
Why do you constantly hibernate?
Wake up
My city, my town,
Be like David,
Defeat this Goliath called GREED!
Show your feat
and make this enemy face the heat.
Edwina Aleme, (c) 2009
poem by Edwina Aleme
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eyeing
Yo it all started later
With the punk alligator
And Hailey was staring at me like an underappreciater
Like i didn't give a **** about what i had
And knew nothin about rap or gettin mad
Until i met LP, 50 and everone else
Went to the tour and then found kelp
Playin at the football places
McNabb and people with braces
At the stadiums open crowds
Birds in the sky, destroyin the mounds
Hope we sell out, dont want no ****
I don't want to **** to get nuttin out of it
It Is The Eyeing Tour
This Is Where You Get More
This Is The Eyeing Tour
Don't Deny It Or Get Your Neck Sore
Yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** up!
Yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** up!
Went to the Encore
With J to the Z
Everyone staring and talkin **** about me
I don't want to **** when i have a fast buck
Don't tell me my tracks suck
Cuz you cant do better (so)
yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** up!
yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** up!
It Is The Eyeing Tour
This Is Where You Get More
This Is The Eyeing Tour
Don't Deny It Or Get Your Neck Sore
Here we start at the football place
Don't diss me or your the disgrace
Somtin wrong, somtin out of place
Hailey tells me that i've lost the race!
Am i too late?
Have i reached the gate?
Where i retire or die
I can't be late!
This won't be my last tour
But just to make sure
Come around or get yo neck sour
Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo!
yo, yo, yo,
Get you *** up!
yo, yo, yo,
Get you *** up!
yo, yo, yo,
Get you *** up!
yo, yo, yo,
Get yo *** blump!
Get ready for the stump!
I don't want to go plump!
(plump, plump, plump)
Yo, Eyeing Tour
Do You Want More?
Yo, Eyeing Tour
Do You Want More?
Get yo ****** *** up!
song performed by by Eminem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alien Nation
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
In the heat of the violence
The nights exploding everywhere
When hate pulls the trigger
The devil comes to take his share
In the garden of eden
The time is running out so fast
Into heart of the demon
With no escape our die is cast
In the city of angels
Death is just a moment away
In the city of angels
Your future wont see the light of the day
Beware of the alien nation
Beware of the truth that they seek
They pray for eternal salvation
They pray for your soul to keep
On the eve of destruction
A reign of terror rules the street
When the heads start rolling
The devil comes to let it bleed
In the city of angels
Death is just a moment away
In the city of angels
Your future wont see the light of the day
Walk on past the alien nation
Walk on to the end of your reach
No fear of the alien nation
No fear of the hatred they preach
Dont run, theres no place to hide
Today or tomorrow it will get you
Dont move, the knife is right at your throat
And whatever you do, theres no way out
When the shroud comes down on this place
To bury us all alive
Well know the time has come, to face the heat
Beware of the alien nation
Beware of the truth that they seek
They pray for eternal salvation
They pray for your soul to keep
Walk on past the alien nation
Walk on to the end of your reach
They pray for eternal damnation
They pray for your soul to keep
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beayty Of Gauteng
Auto shining on the street
The TelkomTelecommunication tower
The CellC tower container at southwest of Johannesburg
Vodacom tower a night shining
With the shine light of the nation tour attraction.
The Lucs flats my hero,
The beauty of my soul,
Standing behind Parktonain hotel,
My so called hotel.
Attraction of the roaming lights
Of the cockroaches traffic cars.
Ooh, the wonderful song
In the soul of my heart,
Fabulous bell of traffic alert
Through Rissik & Smith Street.
The nice place Gold Reef city,
The ultimate king of holidays.
Soweto the rainbow
Thembisa the promise of legend
Alexander Looting of natural people.
Mine dump aside the road
Proving Gauteng a place of gold,
A Precious metal of death.
Prostitution on every corner
Two meter is a longest distance.
Everyone seems to be a hero
Hero of dying and surviving.
Thai is Gauteng the place of happiness,
The place of sorrow
And the place of death and surviving.
I love to hate Gauteng.
poem by Murendeni Mulaudzi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Secret Place
Words and music by joni mitchell
Im going to take you to
My special place
Its a place that you
Like no one else I know
Might appreciate
I dont go there with anyone--but
Youre a special case
For my special place
For my secret place
People talk to tell you something
Or to take up space
Guess Im only talking
To be talking to
Your pretty face
I dont talk much to anyone--but
Youre a special case
For my special place
My secret place
I was born and raised
In new york city
Im just getting used to colorado--
Oh street bravado
Carry me
Why did you bring me to
A place so wild and pretty?
Are there pigeons in this park--
Muggers after dark--
In these golden trees--
In the secret place?
Im going to take you to
My special place
Its a place no amount of hurt and anger
Can deface
I put things back together there
It all falls right in place--
In my special space
My special place
Once I saw a film
In new york city
That was shot in colorado--
Girl meets desperado
In the trembling mountain trees
Out of all of the girls that you see
In bleachers and cafe windows
Sitting--flirting with someone
Looking to have some fun
Why did you pick me?
For the secret place
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I will go around the space shuttle and give a guided tour of the major areas and describe what is done in each area. This will be called The Ultimate Field Trip.
quote by Christa McAuliffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Same Place, Same Time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
The coffee’s hot
And the company is good
Conversation flows, as it should
A joke or two
And when all is said and done
We’re right back to where we begun
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
These crowded streets
I balance tight roped on the curb
Car screeches past, a scream is heard
De ja vu
Yes I’ve been here before
Time moves slowly as traffic stalls
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Break
It was good
You were sublime
I’m so glad that we spent the time
Time is short
What we have is rare
Love is oxygen with you there
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Copyright 2006 (updated 2010)
poem by Colin Coplin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Not Writing a Poem
and sometimes I’m sitting, quiet,
wondering whether a poem somewhere
would like to speak through me
and it doesn’t
but the stillness as I wait -
that’s good.
Then just occasionally, when
I’m not visited by a poem,
I visit – without planning - Poetry.
It’s a place without a name
where many things meet:
there’s space, and hope,
and possibility, and, out of the present,
a future growing..
and something that’s not less, or
not less bright, than gold;
where all the poems that have been written
mix on friendly terms with those
that are yet to come;
with a sense of company, humanity,
very undemanding, and what Pooh Bear
would call, Everybody Listening…
and there’s no claim, no need
to write about I Was There
and Experienced This, and do you wish
you had too, and here’s my name
so modestly after a line space
and it’s very refreshing, even
reassuring in its way. Maybe
if we were back in, oh, Greek times?
I would wash, put on a white robe,
take a sweet cake, some oil, some wine, an olive branch,
walk slowly up to the temple,
tap the road dust off my sandals,
then between the cool pillars,
place the offering at the feet
of the golden goddess; silent
somewhere between thanks
and praise and the place called prayer;
and then I’d return home, peaceful
as if blessed. A more poetic image? Perhaps
it’s the same place: the mind
was there, the body’s here.
It’s good. You were there too.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where The Mattagami Flows
This is the original:
It's the City of Timmins Where The Mattagami Flows
There's a place East of Sault St. Marie where I go
On hi-way eleven North of Toronto
Just past Texas Gulf's Kidd Creek Copper mine
It's the City of Timmins and South Porcupine
Go ski on the mountain the hills are just great
The ghost of Maggie will greet you at Kamiskotia Lake
The Shania Twain Center and their Gold Mine Tours
Sure proud of 'Whose Beds Have your Boots Been Under'
Chorus:
In summer the farmers rise early at dawn
Their hands tell a story of ancestors gone
They'll feed this great nation with tractors and hoes
At the the old Mountjoy Market their produce are sold
(It's the City of Timmins where the Mattagami flows)
Verse:
Now springtime is a beauty that all can behold
The leaves are a treasure of diamonds and gold
The blooming of tulips will remind us all
That the Pickerel will soon bite at old Sandy Falls
There's one forty four south to Sudbury
On the way there's Gogama Indian Territory
And the road to North Bay is a haven to me
Where grandpa came to settle in the North Country
(It's the city of Timmins where the Mattagami flows) (It's the City of Timmins the place I was born)
In the Key of (C) major
Words & Music
Paul Henry Dallaire
Paul Henry Pub. SOCAN
poem by Paul Henry Dallaire
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Lost
(1/21/12)
I was lost in a world of my own
Traveling through the valleys of my mind
Where there was only space and no time.
A place where minds go to be free
And musicians playing in harmony.
Where voices of the best singers
Would gather around and put
Together the greatest sounds.
A place where you can be yourself
And not have to listen to anyone else.
A place where you can be lost in
the thoughts of your mind
And be there till the ends of your time
A place of imaginations and dreams
And of places seen and unseen.
Everyone no matter who they may be
Has been in this place of mystery.
We start off when we’re very young
A place that we go to have some fun.
Then as we get into our teenage years
We start to travel more and lose our fears.
We start to visualize what we would
Like to be, set our goals, and set
Our hearts and minds free.
Our hearts and spirit so clear and bright
Which turns our darkness into light.
All we see is the clear path ahead
Where so many before have tread.
So allow yourself to get lost in
The caverns of your mind
You’ll be amazed at what you’ll find.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woes And Wonders
Show me a city full of happiness,
Then i will show you the effect of their weakness.
Show me a man who is full of himself,
Then i will show you why he's a fool to himself.
Show me your success today,
And i will show you your mistakes of yesterday.
Show me a community not far from the mountain,
Then i will show you why their security is certain.
Show me a holy man,
Then i will show you why he's called a human.
Show me a man who is not afraid of death,
Then i will show him the theory of birth.
Show me an ocean of misery,
Then i will show you how to swim in victory.
Tell me the meaning of ' STOP ',
Then i will show you the way to the top.
Show me your best friend,
Then i will show you where your dreams will end.
Show me a good and caring heart,
And i will show you why it hasn't been torn apart.
Show me your hall of pain,
Then i will show you all what u've gain.
Show me an exceptional reader,
Then i will show you a great leader.
Show me a way to financial prosperity,
Then i will show you a way to heavenly security.
Show me a great man of all time,
Then i will show you his footprint on the sand of time.
Show me a problem you can't solve,
Then i will show you why you haven't use the solution called love.
Show me a world full of fantasy,
Then i will show you the pain behind a life full of ecstasy.
Show me a kingdom built with wrath,
Then i will show you how much it is worth.
Show me a man with a problem free life,
Then i will show you why he hasn't gotten a wife.
Show me all of earth's pleasure,
Then i will show you why heaven is the place to be beyond all measure
poem by Stanley Oguh
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A Place Called Eden
There was a paradise that ruled long ago.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
More beautiful than the human eye can ever perceive;
untainted by humans,
this Place called Eden.
This Garden was eternal, life-giving,
as perfect as the Heavens brought to Earth.
But along came Man,
swept in with a storm,
hiding the sun.
A pummeling rain flattened the flowers
and lightning licked at trees, destroying
this Place called Eden.
The clouds finally parted.
The sun peaked out fearfully, looking down
at Man, who stood alone.
Who felt himself powerful.
Betrayal drowned the Garden.
Mad smiled at his feat:
He had taken over with sin,
this Place called Eden.
Man cursed himself,
Perfection was lost, Misery
had taken over Man as Nature
healed itself for its revenge on the Destroyer.
Man learned self-loathing
and the true power of
this Place called Eden.
Death came to Earth. It punished Man fiercer
than Nature had: any man close
to finding the lost Land
was taken from Earth,
and Man was never to find it again,
this Place called Eden.
poem by Zoe Guillory
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A Poem In 7000AD
(1)
In a city of the footpaths,
More than everything are the houses of God,
And at every door of the house,
It is inscribed in the ink of hatred,
“Only the people of a specific sect
Are allowed here to offer the prayers.”
(2)
After some times,
The earth will gulp into the belly,
The same city divided in blocks,
On its place the earth will bring forth,
A new fertile city whose inhabitants
Will not obtain food
From the heaps of muck.
(3)
After five thousand years,
An old archeologist,
In shadow of the drowning sun,
Will discover again,
The same buried city;
And on the chipped worn out stone
Of the ruined worship house,
Will be an inscription
In a mysterious language
And he after having read it
With troublesome attempt,
Will say with a tone of certainty
To his beloved peering into her eyes
“Definitely such cities as this was
Had no right to exist on the Earth.”
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It’s called the inner city
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
Thin walls no privacy
Big yard, living in close proximity
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes it has shaped my destiny
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
Adults sit around
Getting shot and maim
Children run around
Oblivious
Playing their games
In the filth that flows untamed
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
How hard I try not to run with the pack
But against me the cards were stack
They need protection they need someone
But you can’t protect them with empty hand
In the inner city
It’s called the inner city
Poverty, amidst luxury
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
Political connections, fearless and strong
Dispensing justice with an even hand
Truth be told, I am a ladies’ man
So naturally they call me the “Don”
In the inner city
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city, no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
Now on death row
Soon, I’ll go
I am guilty?
No one will know
The script is written and sing like a song
They used, refused and then they kill the “Don”
In the inner city
Hah, ha, ha, a, a, a
Hah, ha, ha, a, a, a
poem by Ikhalfani Solan
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