On The Boulevard
On the boulevard
Evening shakes
He sat behind the mirror
Loathing the bread winning
That some attained.
On the city streets we stand
And loiter for possibilities
To converse with, and surrounding
Me is an equation of sound
Too incomplete.
The morning arises for the more,
Seasons are considered by the wise.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Complete With You
i am incomplete without you
i am incomplete without your smiles
i am incomplete without your love
i am incomplete without your felling
i am incomplete without your teaching
i am incomplete without your touching
i am incomplete without your soul
i am incomplete without your dreams
i am incomplete without your body
i am incomplete without your happiness
i am incomplete without your heart
i am incomplete without your bed
i am incomplete without your tonight
i am incomplete without your sorrow and sadness
poem by Khushi throne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Evening Rain
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
Like the day
Saw the same
All the problems
I follow
I run away
Saw the plane
The grey life
Tomorrow
But I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
But I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I close my eyes
It doesn't work
I can hear tomorrow
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
I can't stand to see the morning come
While the evening rain's still falling
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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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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In the mirror I stand
In the mirror I stand all alone
My lifelong purpose still unknown,
In the mirror I ask myself why
In the mirror I see myself die,
In the mirror I see my life
With darkened sorrows that fill my strife,
In the mirror I see my pain
In the mirror it starts to rain,
In the mirror I stand all night
Holding on gripping so tight,
So in the mirror I count 1,2
And in the mirror I wish for you…,
poem by Jacob Hill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When complaints are freely heard, deeply considered and speedily reformed, then is the utmost bound of civil liberty attained that wise men look for.
quote by John Milton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stand By Love
You know my heart beats rhythm and my dreams still take me higher
Ive travelled round the world but they cant cure my desire
The city looks pretty tonight
Hold on now lets go till morning
Get up on love and stand by me
Stand by love, stand by me
Im a shell shocked lover, under cover thats my game
Im your long lost brother, little sister whats your name
I feel so alone
Im stranded and so far from home Im calling
Get up on love and stand by me
Stand by love, and stand by me
Stand by love
Love - stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Give me one good reason why you dont come play with fire
cos when the earth starts moving you know Im no liar
The city looks pretty tonight
Oh hold on now lets go till morning
Get up on love and stand by me
Stand by love, and stand by me
Stand by love stand by
Stand by love
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by me
Stand by love stand by love
Stand by love stand by love
Stand by me
Written by : kerr/burchill reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Education
I'm questioning my education
Does my education know what I'm now?
While you're deciding, I've been finding
Looking around in the here and now
If I'd been talking from the beginning, would my fears now be winning?
I'm questioning my own equation
Is my own equation relevant somehow?
The flags a waiving the news is breaking
See the man who cant pick out his own tire
If I'd been talking from the beginning, would my fears now be winning?
A wild world figuring out the answers Ill be in my own dance
Im questioning my education
Rewind and what does it show
Couldve been the truth, it becomes you
Im a seed wondering what grows
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Litany
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.
poem by Billy Collins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How I Love The Quiet
How I love the quiet
The early morning streets
With few people and fewer cars
The sounds of the wind and the birds
Which do not need to be heard-
The sound of my own voice singing alone its morning song-
How I love the quiet
Of the early morning
And how in my old age
I just enjoy walking along
And singing a song to myself
Into the surrounding silence.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The City Of London
Introduction:
I wrote this in the middle of the night, many years ago.
My mind went back to when I was a little girl
and my brother and I went to visit my Grandfather.
We stopped that day to walk through the City, there was a mist that morning and a fine rain, the sort that makes your hair frizz.
The tranquillity of the early morning streets was rudely broken
by people coming into the City to work and so here is my memory:
----
Early morning after a thunderous night
I can breathe easy.
If I'm quiet I may hear the sound of birdsong.
Sometimes there is a mist.
It hangs over London like a veil.
Soon dawn's empty streets
will heave with massing crowds.
but until then all London is at peace.
The gentle tinkling of milk bottles
breaks the quiet
and the smell of bacon and fried bread
waft through the chill morning air.
Sounds of sirens fill my head and
concrete rises heavenward, filling my eyes,
crushing their foundations through my soul.
A sickness seeps through me,
everything beautiful is gone.
'Morning paper, read all about it! '
Girls hurry buy in tight blue jeans,
men in suits, some in Mac's,
high-heeled ladies, clicky, click, clack.
Poor old tramp, fingernails black,
stirs on the floor beside a closed door,
‘Got the price of a cuppa luv', he calls.
The girl quickens her pace.
A couple kiss in tender bliss
A young man sighs, a baby cries,
an old lady dies on the streets of London.
Early morning after a thunderous night
you can breathe easy.
You may hear the sound of birdsong
Sometimes there is a mist.
It hangs over London like a veil
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Litany
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.
Anonymous submission.
poem by William Taylor Collins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Haunting reflection's
Mirror
Mirror
I am a killer
Mirror
Mirror
I have a heart that merely beats
Without sound
Mirror
Mirror
I am cold
Mirror
Mirror
I am tearless
Mirror
Mirror
I am the devil in white
poem by Noorie Ali
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How Are You?
morning
is your usual sound
vibrant as the
wings of
a seagull
diving upon
a white
fish
against a blue
sea
it is evening
i sit alone on a chair at the porch
trying to
listen to
your whisper
rising into a
lively conversation
like
a crowd of three
at the
balcony
i am worried
the city has no electricity
and it is dark
you have become so far away from me
like
a vanishing
light
i need you to
make a sound
even the faintest sound
of a cellphone
in silent mode with
a matching
vibration
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bells Of The Evening
Bells of the evening, o sing to my love
Tell her I miss her, my own turtledove
The streets of the old town are covered with rain
I think I might never know true love again
Im lost with no road signs to guide me
A slave to my whiskey and dreams
Bells of the evening, o bells that I love
Ive got some feelings I long to be rid of
Im not one to ramble; Im not one to boast
Though I had one lover more lovely than most
She was a country girl born to be free
Who took to the city by chance there to find me
Bells of the evening go pealin
Im down here listenin to you
Bells of the evening, o bells of the sea
Tell her that I love her, that Im lost and so lonely
Bells of the evening, your sweet sunday sound
Reminds me of the redwoods and moss covered ground
So if I should wander on back to the coast
Tell her to remember its her I need the most
Im caught by the minstrels misfortune
Of being forever displaced
Bells of the evening, o bells of the sea
Tell her that I love her; that Im lost Im so lonely
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dancin, Shaggin On The Boulevard
Written by randy owen, teddy gentry, and greg fowler
Well the magic attics where the music rolls
And the army-navys got ol jackie soul
Down on peaches corner there are good ol boys
And mother fletchers makin lots of noise
Theyre dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Well the tams are playin at the port-o-call
And the drifters underneath the boardwalk
At the sapnish galleon and ol fat jacks
Jukebox playin and the place is packed
You bet theyre dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
You know theyre dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Got the top down and the traffics slow
Sun fun week and, we all go
Where the girls are sunnin and lookin good
Well I never met em but I wish I could
And wed go dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Wed go dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Well the embers singin up on ocean drive
And the castaways are gettin loud tonight
At the electric circus they all getin down
And the carousels spinnin round and round
See them dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
I see em dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Well Im hangin out down at sloppy joes
They may doze but they never close
And the bama boys at the bowery
They cant dance but they play for free
But they like dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
They know dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
They wrote dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Shaggin on the boulevard
Dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
Dancin, shaggin on the boulevard
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beneficial
The benefits accompany the man who wins,
Problems of sleep calculate me and his worries.
May I learn in ways too important, too wise,
That returns appear and exercise - too wise.
May winning benefit me rather than him,
Victory worked according to heaven.
Fleeing from the site is evil and winning,
But winning does not come or reappear.
Those men who win shall overpower the enemy
In the correct form, in the absolute manner.
This is to win, this is to prosper,
Another triumph brings joy and happiness.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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