Museum Of The City Of...III
What were they looking for, there,
so long ago?
a diplomat's corpse, bound, gagged and fish-mauled?
(for whatever it's current deficits, this city once had Edge,
and blossomed in the Deuteronium spritz of the Cold War,
til things...rent, got so expensive-Why?)
The soon-to-be end of a quest
cracked by a 'facilitated' confession in some precinct back room
under the kliegs,
by such means as would make New York Law And Order's look tame
and low-tech as a wrist watch,
from some Bond-type con with good legs,
sitting hands shackled behind him, erect in a swivel chair?
A chest of plutonium, lead-lined, of course?
A water-proof safe filled with numbered, stolen bills?
The crown jewels? And if so, who's?
Letters of transit issued to some Soviet spy?
dating from a time when America unabashedly bossed the U.N.,
as it should, no? ,
and people could travel with pride and impunity,
and gas cost 79 cents a gallon?
I doubt it...
poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Safe In New York City
(young - young)
Hello baby gimme your hand
Check out the high spots the lay of the land
You dont need a rocket or a big limousine
Come on over baby and Ill make you obscene
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
All over the city and down to the dives
Dont mess with this place itll eat you alive
Got lip smackin honey to soak up the jam
On top of the world ma ready to slam
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
Movin all over like a jumpin bean
Take a look at that thing in the tight ass jeans
Comin your way now you may be in luck
Dont you fret boy shes ready to buck
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
I feel safe in new york city
New york, new york, new york
I feel safe in a cage in new york city
2000, j. albert & son, pty.
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Safe In New York City
Hello baby gimme your hand
Check out the high spots the lay of the land
You don't need a rocket or a big limousine
Come on over baby and I'll make you obscene
I feel safe in New York City
I feel safe in New York City
I feel safe in New York City
I feel safe in New York City
All over the city and down to the dives
Don't mess with this place it'll eat you alive
Got lip smackin' honey to soak up the jam
On top of the world ma' ready to slam
I feel safe in New York City (8x)
Movin' all over like a jumpin' bean
Take a look at that thing in the tight ass jeans
Comin' your way now you may be in luck
Don't you fret boy she's ready to buck
I feel safe in New York City (11x)
New York
song performed by by AC/DC from Stiff Upper Lip
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hands That Built America
Oh my love
It's a long way we've come
From the freckled hills
To the steel and glass canyons
From the stony fields
To hanging steel from skies
From diggin in our pockets
For a reason not to say goodbye
These are the hands that build America
Ah ah ah..... America
Last saw your face
In a watercolored Sky
As sea birds argue
A long goodbye
I took your kiss
On the spray of a new lined star
You gotta live in your dreams
Don't make them so hard
And these are the hands that built America
Ah ah ah..... America
Of all of the promises
Is this one we can keep
Of all of the dreams
Is this one still out of reach
???
Its early fall
There's a cloud in the New York skyline
Innocence...dragged across a yellow line
These are the hands that built America
These are the hands that built America
Ah ah ah..... America
Ah ah ah..... America
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cave in a Crumbling Cliff
Plash and boom of waves in cave
A door padlocked in vain
Steps lead down or up
And pebbles crunch
Under waves, under seaboots
And old dreams
You would live there
If your corpse didn't drag you off
The hearth and love
Pull and pull against
Oars along the heaving edge
Into an age when miners camped down there
Safe in huts like shepherds on the cold high moor
Or lobsters in crevices
beyond the broken wave
beyond the need to be
anything but yourself
The peace and rhythms there
rescue hearts
by the serenade of dark grey water
kissing cliff - tide of light and lost world
that pulls and pulls by the dead man's gate
by Velvet Isle to Manhaven Bay:
a boat to carry on your back
a shell against the songs of crumbling
and the scar on your chest
and the tide of time
I saw you from my crumbling edge
and rowed with you
as far as the mind would travel
and the wind forgive
and cannot go back
or never leave.
Lizard Point, South Shields
Twiddle Your Thumbs
Sometimes you want to say something
but feel that you hands are tied
and your voice is gagged.
You want to let out those pent up emotions
feeling free to clear the air
but for some unknown reason
you hold back from letting go
becoming gagged and frustrated.
You know what you’ll say,
will cause a long argument
and that is something you do not want.
Therefore, you bite your tongue
and let the dark cloud disperse
knowing sooner or later
another time will come
and then you will not be gagged.
Saying your piece
and getting it all off your chest
but until then you sit quietly
and just twiddle your thumbs.
6 March 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What If Time Travelled In A Straight Line?
the hands of time travel in a very small circle
of our watch.
the sound is minimalistic, only the wrist is disturbed.
or the wall. or the bed.
everyday round the clock. Faithful.
i like it to travel on a very straight line. Have an edge.
I will push it. It will fall. I want it dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New York City
Standing on the corner
Just me and yoko ono
We was waiting for jerry to land
Up come a man with a guitar in his hand
Singing, have a marijuana if you can
His name was david peel
And we found that he was real
He sang, the pope smokes dope every day
Up come a policeman shoved us up the street
Singing, power to the people today!
New york city...new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
Well down to maxs kansas city
Got down the nitty gritty
With the elephants memory band
Laid something down
As the news spread around
About the plastic ono elephants memory band!
And we played some funky boogie
And laid some tutti frutti
Singing, long tall sallys a man.
Up come a preacherman trying to be a teacher
Singing, gods a red herring in drag!
New york city...new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
New york city...new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
Well we did the staten island ferry
Making movies for the telly
Played the fillmore and apollo for freedom
Tried to shake our image
Just a cycling through the village
But found that we had left it back in london
Well nobody came to bug us
Hustle us or shove us
So we decided to make it our home
If the man wants to shove us out
We gonna jump and shout
The statue of liberty said, come!
New york city...new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
New york city...back in new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nyc Man
It can only lead to trouble if you break my heart
If you accidentally crush it on the ides of march
Id prefer you were straight forward
You dont have to go through all of that
Im a new york city man, baby, and say go and that is that
New york city man, you just say go and that is that
Im a new york city man, you just say go and that is that
Its far too complicated to make up a lie
That youd have to remember and really why
I wouldnt want to be around you
If you didnt want to have me around
Im a m-a-n-n man, you blink your eyes and Ill be gone
M-a-n-n man, you blink your eyes, honey, I love you, Ill be gone
New york city man, you blink your eyes and Ill be gone
Brutus made a pretty speech but caesar was betrayed
Lady macbeth went crazy but macbeth ended slain
Ophelia and desdamona dead leaving hamlet in a play
But Im no lear with blinded eyes, say go and I am gone
The stars have shut their eyes up tight
The earth has changed its course
A kingdom sits on a black knights back
As he tries to mount a white jeweled horse
While a clock full of butterflies on the hour
Releases a thousand moths
You say leave and Ill be gone
Without any remorse
No letters faxes phones or tears
Theres a difference between bad and worse
Im a new york city man, blink your eyes and Ill be gone
New york city - man, m-a-n, you blink your eyes and Ill be gone
New york city, I love you, new york city man
New york city, how I love you, blink your eyes and Ill be gone
Just a little grain of sand
New york city, ooohhh, how I love you
New york city, baby, blink your eyes and Ill be gone
Oh, how I love you
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Father's Chair
Parliaments of Henry III., 1265
There are four good legs to my Father's Chair--
Priests and People and Lords and Crown.
I sits on all of 'em fair and square,
And that is reason it don't break down.
I won't trust one leg, nor two, nor three,
To carry my weight when I sets me down.
I wants all four of 'em under me--
Priests and People and Lords and Crown.
I sits on all four and favours none--
Priests, nor People, nor Lords, nor Crown:
And I never tilts in my chair, my son,
And that is the reason it don't break down.
When your time comes to sit in my Chair,
Remember your Father's habits and rules,
Sit on all four legs, fair and square,
And never be tempted by one-legged stools!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Suzanne & The Jewels
Suzanne was the jewel keeper
In a word she stole all the jewels
And she took them to a foreign land
Which was strictly against all the rules
And she wore them all proudly
Like a tiara crown on her head
She slept with them at night
Suzanne and the jewels in a bed
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
Suzanne lived down by the river
The fountain of youth did flow
And she played on a steel guitar
And the drifters did come and theyd go
And shed put on her crown
And shed sing them a song
And some drifters would stay here the night
But they never did stay long
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
This girl flew on the wind
She wrote her own name in the stars
Just goes to show sometimes you win
No matter how crazy you are
But a thief can come knocking
Even with blood on the door
And drink up your fountain of youth
And throw your jewels and your crown on the floor
Chorus:
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown from your head?
Suzanne and her jewels
Livin on the edge of a friend
Suzanne, how will you sleep at night
When they take that crown off your head?
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Of The Road
Trailers for sale or rent,
Rooms to let - 50 cents,
No phone, no pool, no pets,
Ain't got no cigarettes, ah but
Two hours of pushing broom
buys an 8 by 12 four-bit room
He's a man of means by no means
King of the road.
Third box car midnight train
Destination Bangor, Maine
Old worn-out suits and shoes,
Don't pay no union dues.
He smokes old stogies he has found
Short, but not too big around
He's a man of means by no means
King of the road
(He knows) Every engineer on every train
All of their children and all of their names
And every hang-out in every town
Every lock that ain't locked
When no one's around.
I say, Trailers for sale or rent,
Rooms to let - 50 cents,
No phone, no pool, no pets,
Ain't got no cigarettes.
I've got two hours of pushing broom
buys an 8 by 12 four-bit room
He's a man of means by no means
King of the road.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Against Current
I like to move against current
I want to play more around
I don’t like to just follow order
I like to place myself against current
I want to challenge how far I could go on
I don’t like to be lead without having any power
I like to be against current
I want to see the faces who passing me by
Even I should turn so far, even I should wait a little more time
I want to be free to do what I want, to follow my heart’s tell
Maybe I’m not always against current
Maybe it’s good and the right one
But I will never know what’s outside the flow
If I only let myself swept by current
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In My Reality
ya yeh ya, heyey ya, oh woh woh woh woh, ah ah ah ahh
say goodbye to all of your friends
and the people we knew
its better that it comes from you
tell them what you want
cause I tried so hard to make you happy
no big star dreams, no things that seem
to make up your life
so I'm going back to new york city
where people live
in my reality
all of my life
yours was no good for me
need to feel the beat
of the street, in my life
in my reality
back to my life
yours was no good for me
3000 miles away
and everydays a new day
all those dreams that pulled us apart
and the things that you want
they'll never be enough for you
so I'll say goodbye
and I'm going back to new york city
where people live
in my reality
back to my life
yours was no good for me
need to feel the beat
of the street
in my life
back to my old address
nobody to impress
3000 miles away
and everydays a new day ya
I guess my love was not enough for you
so I'll say goodbye baby
and I'm going back to new york city
there people live
in my reality
all of my life
yours was no good for me
i need to feel the heat of the street
in my life
goodbye to hollywood
didn't do me any good
3000 miles away
where everyday is a brand new day, ay yah yah yah
soooo go on and say goodbye to all your friends
and the people we new ew ew
its better that it comes from you
and you can tell them what you want
cuz i tried so hard to make you happy baby
but I gotta go back
to my reality
back to my life
thats where I need to be
I need to feel the heat
of the streets ya a
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stones that the Builder Refused
Mother Africa lost her children to the sea
Scattered abroad and sold into slavery
Bound, shackled, and twice chained
Sins of the father has surely remained
Loving families we left behind
Betrayed and Sold by our own kind
These things sometimes makes me upset
Those things I can never ever forget
Like cattle lead to the slaughter
On auction blocks sold as barter
Hated, mistreated, and despised
Made lame, crippled, and then criticized
Battered and bruised dogs set upon
Skin baked in the sun for we are Teflon
In the fields we chanted a psalm
Now we’re told to go back where you came from
Nowhere to go for we no longer belong
Through captivity we’ve remain ever strong
We make you dance and now you want to be us too
You cannot be me nor I could ever be you
High on the hill you roast the sow
We’ve made you rich by the sweat of our brow
Good enough to die for you as martyrs
Yet not good enough to marry your daughters
It is here I was born
You still look at me with a scorn
Like I have stolen all your corn
From my back my clothing’s torn
Hands tired and limbs worn
I am the tree grown from an acorn
You cannot conquer me
I am one with the almighty
Take it all in and make sure it is well digested
You’ve claimed all that I have manifested
In us you have long divested
In us you are not interested
Shiftless and lazy we’ve been accused
On stage by us you’ve been amused
Your entire history you’ve been confused
For far too long we’ve been abused
Never more shall we be used
We are the stones that the builder refused
(August 6,2011)
poem by Wilfred Mellers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Woman Called
A woman called for you today said Max’s wife.
Oh said Max who was she?
She didn’t say Max’s wife replied.
Well dames that don’t leave names
Aren’t worth worry over Max said
Lighting up a cigarette and sitting
In a chair by the window.
She seemed to know you Max’s wife stated stiffly
Seemed quite put out when I told her I was your wife.
Dames are always put out over something or other
Max said noticing his wife’s beauty spot
And how it moved as she spoke.
She was a brunette.
Ah a brunette huh?
Yes a brunette his wife said.
Well? She said after a minute’s pause.
New York’s full of brunettes.
This one came to the apartment and rang our bell
And stood at the door asking for Max.
There are plenty of men called Max in New York Honey he said
Comparing in his mind his wife and the brunette
He’d met at a bar the other night.
She seemed your type his wife said sulkily
The type that sways her hips and sticks out their ass.
Yes I know the type Max said and sighed
They can never leave me alone.
I tell them I am happily married to the best dame in New York
But they seem not to hear Max said
Watching smoke rise upwards.
Best dame in New York huh? His wife said.
Sure you are he said taking in his wife’s plump ass
Hanging over the side of the chair like melted cheese.
She smiled and said must have been a mistake
On her part coming here and asking for Max.
Sure it was Max said dames sometimes make mistakes
They have no sense of direction.
His wife smiled at him sexily hoping.
Max smiled back and hoped for erection.
poem by Terry Collett
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My Dentist
Sitting in the dentist's chair,
Wishing that I wasn't there,
To forget and pass the time
I have made this bit of rhyme.
I had a rendez-vous at ten;
I rushed to get in line,
But found a lot of dames and men
Had waited there since nine;
I stared at them, then in an hour
Was blandly ushered in;
But though my face was grim and sour
He met me with a grin.
He told me of his horse of blood,
And how it "also ran",
He plans to own a racing stud -
(He seems a wealthy man.)
And then he left me there until
I growled: "At any rate,
I hope he'll not charge in his bill
For all the time I wait."
His wife has sables on her back,
With jewels she's ablaze;
She drives a stately Cadillac,
And I'm the mug who pays:
At least I'm one of those who peer
With pessimistic gloom
At magazines of yester-year
In his damn waiting room.
I am a Christian Scientist;
I don't believe in pain;
My dentist had a powerful wrist,
He tries and tries in vain
To make me grunt or groan or squeal
With probe or rasp or drill. . . .
But oh, what agony I feel
When HE PRESENTS HIS BILL!
Sitting in the dental chair,
Don't you wish you weren't there:
Well, your cup of woe to fill,
Just think of his infernal bill.
poem by Robert William Service
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Common Scents!
When I was young, my garden grew
Its rambling roses there,
Thank God, because the whole year through
Sweet perfume I could share...
From dainty petals stored in jars
Came my first fragrant friends,
Still cherished like they're superstars,
In mixtures and in blends...
In time, I learnt of other plants,
Aromas all their own,
Like precious gifts meant to enhance,
Once every secret's known...
From Nature's wondrous treasure chest,
Comes perfumes young and old,
Such that we've only to invest
Our time to find pure gold!
That's why designers roam the Earth,
Researching as they go,
To learn which plants they find have worth
Of all that Man can grow...
Experiments then pave the way
So progress is assured,
For from each scent a single spray
Can bring its own reward...
For while its presence still exists,
Consider what it does,
As buyers spray a tiny spritz
And then proceed to fuss...
With oohs and ahs and sudden smiles
And spritz, spritz, spritz again,
Each perfume goes through many trials,
For women and for men...
Is this new fragrance sweet or what,
Too spicy, or just right
And is it cool, or is it hot,
For daytime, or for night?
As cheap as chips, or way too much,
Or somewhere inbetween?
Perhaps it's truly hard to judge,
Without appearing mean!
I'm testing perfumes now and then
And savouring each one,
Technology's beyond my ken,
But I'm just having fun...
I'll spritz, spritz, spritz at breakfast time
And hold my head up high!
Then recommend what smells sublime!
Just buy! Just buy! Just buy!
poem by Denis Martindale
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To a Friend Concerning Several Ladies
You know there is not much
that I desire, a few chrysanthemums
half lying on the grass, yellow
and brown and white, the
talk of a few people, the trees,
an expanse of dried leaves perhaps
with ditches among them.
But there comes
between me and these things
a letter
or even a look--well placed,
you understand,
so that I am confused, twisted
four ways and--left flat,
unable to lift the food to
my own mouth:
Here is what they say: Come!
and come! and come! And if
I do not go I remain stale to
myself and if I go--
I have watched
the city from a distance at night
and wondered why I wrote no poem.
Come! yes,
the city is ablaze for you
and you stand and look at it.
And they are right. There is
no good in the world except out of
a woman and certain women alone
for certain. But what if
I arrive like a turtle,
with my house on my back or
a fish ogling from under water?
It will not do. I must be
steaming with love, colored
like a flamingo. For what?
To have legs and a silly head
and to smell, pah! like a flamingo
that soils its own feathers behind.
Must I go home filled
with a bad poem?
And they say:
Who can answer these things
till he has tried? Your eyes
are half closed, you are a child,
oh, a sweet one, ready to play
but I will make a man of you and
with love on his shoulder--!
And in the marshes
the crickets run
on the sunny dike's top and
make burrows there, the water
reflects the reeds and the reeds
move on their stalks and rattle drily.
poem by William Carlos Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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King Of The Road
Trailers for sale or rent,
Rooms to let - 50 cents,
No phone, no pool, no pets,
Aint got no cigarettes, ah but
Two hours of pushing broom
Buys an 8 by 12 four-bit room
Hes a man of means by no means
King of the road.
Third box car midnight train
Destination bangor, maine
Old worn-out suits and shoes,
Dont pay no union dues.
He smokes old stogies he has found
Short, but not too big around
Hes a man of means by no means
King of the road
(he knows) every engineer on every train
All of their children and all of their names
And every hang-out in every town
Every lock that aint locked
When no ones around.
I say, trailers for sale or rent,
Rooms to let - 50 cents,
No phone, no pool, no pets,
Aint got no cigarettes.
Ive got two hours of pushing broom
Buys an 8 by 12 four-bit room
Hes a man of means by no means
King of the road.
King of the road.
King of the road.
King of the road.
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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