Welcome To The Chicago Commercial Club
January 14, 1880
CHICAGO sounds rough to the maker of verse;
One comfort we have--Cincinnati sounds worse;
If we only were licensed to say Chicago!
But Worcester and Webster won't let us, you know.
No matter, we songsters must sing as we can;
We can make some nice couplets with Lake Michigan,
And what more resembles a nightingale's voice,
Than the oily trisyllable, sweet Illinois?
Your waters are fresh, while our harbor is salt,
But we know you can't help it--it is n't your fault;
Our city is old and your city is new,
But the railroad men tell us we're greener than you.
You have seen our gilt dome, and no doubt you've been told
That the orbs of the universe round it are rolled;
But I'll own it to you, and I ought to know best,
That this is n't quite true of all stars of the West.
You'll go to Mount Auburn,--we'll show you the track,--
And can stay there,--unless you prefer to come back;
And Bunker's tall shaft you can climb if you will,
But you'll puff like a paragraph praising a pill.
You must see--but you have seen--our old Faneuil Hall,
Our churches, our school-rooms, our sample-rooms, all;
And, perhaps, though the idiots must have their jokes,
You have found our good people much like other folks.
There are cities by rivers, by lakes, and by seas,
Each as full of itself as a cheese-mite of cheese;
And a city will brag as a game-cock will crow
Don't your cockerels at home--just a little, you know?
But we'll crow for you now--here's a health to the boys,
Men, maidens, and matrons of fair Illinois,
And the rainbow of friendship that arches its span
From the green of the sea to the blue Michigan!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Chicago sounds rough to the maker of verse. One comfort we have - Cincinnati sounds worse.
quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In North America.
Chicago, Milwaukee
Door County, Ra seen..
Get the great cities
Along the blanks of Michigan.
Museum..Sky scrappers..
These lights glow
Till oil is over.
In the Dael Illinois
Smell the evergreen
Underworld merchants
In India, Mumbai is the bird.
In America, it is another
Which is the image?
Which is the mirror image? ?
Snow-flux will drab
As the snow-fall begins
Come to Door County
To experience astonishing fall season.
Stand on the blanks of
Freaking Michigan
Knowledge mountain peaks are visible.
Connive.. With bards like skyscrapers.
-----
poem by Vinayak Adkoli
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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You'd never think of taking a cab if you had to walk a mile down Chicago's Michigan Avenue. But in a bad city you take a cab just to go around the corner.
quote by Helmut Jahn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicago Sestina
I am surprised by the streets of Chicago
when the palm of winter grips them with snow
as if to forgive the city’s mistakes
and give it a canvas that’s new, white, and clean–
its fingers, the branches on all of the trees
kneading the air that blows in from the lake.
I’ve never lived next to the pulse of the lake
(until I set foot down the side of Chicago)
breathing in through the streets and out through the trees
welcoming the cool of the wet, numbing snow.
It lets my mind slip into thinking it’s clean
as if to personally forgive my mistakes.
“But what have you done to forgive your mistakes? ”
Did I ask this? Or is that the voice of the lake?
Some days, not even does it appear clean,
worn down from its tall standing neighbor, Chicago.
It scrapes at the sky, asking it for more snow
to stick to and freeze the trunks of the trees.
If I were a branch on one of these trees
incapable of making a single mistake,
I’d grab at the sky as it shook out the snow
and grow my roots thick till they tasted the lake.
But I wouldn’t bend to the force of Chicago
that’s constantly keeping me from being clean.
And what does it mean to try to be clean?
I don’t understand the stillness of the trees
when they’re being attacked by the size of Chicago
as if to glorify the city’s mistakes
that glisten like stars at night on the lake
before it all froze and was covered with snow.
Ah! To imagine how long there’s been snow.
How can something this old still feel so clean
and dance through the wind that swoops in from the lake?
Is it the kneading by the spiny branches on trees
trusting that there will be no more mistakes
that leaves these the only pure thing in Chicago?
Here comes the snow that seeks out the trees
Am I now clean? Where are my mistakes?
Chicago belongs where it lay with the lake.
poem by Brian Maloney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boys From Diamond City
Echoes of a million years, lie twisted in my face
In a world without no name, and a stranger human race
In the distance how it shines, sparkles in the light
Like a flower pulls you in, you lose your mind.
And it really doesnt matter if the sky should fall
Your living under ground, theres no sky at all
Nothing much changes
Were the boys of the diamond city
Were tough like diamond
Were the boys of the diamond city
So rough, like diamonds
I remember nightmare days, like packs of dogs wed roam
Through the broken city streets, through the broken citys bone
Its so hard to stand your ground, its so hard to stay alive
cos when you fight for what you keep, you know you fight for your life
And it really doesnt matter if the sky should fall
Your living under ground, theres no sky at all
Nothing much changes
Were the boys of the diamond city
Were tough like diamond
Were the boys of the diamond city
So rough, like diamonds
I remember a time
A giant skyline
And a blue, blue sky
Its almost dreamlike
Were the boys of the diamond city
Were the boys of the diamond city
Were tough like diamond
Were the boys of the diamond city
So rough, like diamonds
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicago Samba
I live in chicago
A very windy city
But tonight I will dance the Chicago samba
Once again
But when I dance the chicago blues
I sweat like crazy
And I feel like a kid again
But when I hear the chicago samba being played by the local musiciams
In the streets of chicago I get very excited
Because I know that their music cam be heard also from faraway
And bring me back memories of home
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Michigan
Well my mother rolled over and died in michigan
My dog got hit by a truck and I cried in michigan
I got drunk and puked up my guts in michigan
But Im alright, Im alright, Im alright, Im alright
And man Im riding here tonight in michigan
I ran a race and came in dead last in michigan
Yeah, I shot myself in the ass in michigan
I was lookin for someplace to feel free but they busted my for just
Being me in michigan
But alright, its alright, its alright, its alright
And baby Im riding high tonight in michigan
I ran into a little bad luck in michigan
I met a woman ? ? ?
Baby Im running late but you got here one hell of a state
In michigan
Oh michigan
This song has been played in a few towns in the us, each time the
Title has been changed and some of the lyrics as well.
(gotj tour)
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Mesa
Blue Mesa
Land of the Sioux and Crow
Blue Mesa
No matter where I go
You will always be
Home, sweet, home to me
Blue Mesa.
Moonlight shines as
Purple shadows fall
Silence broken by the lonesome
Cototes call on:
Blue Mesa
Land of the Sioux and Crow
Blue Mesa
No matter where I go
You will always be
Home, sweet, home to me
Blue Mesa.
Herds of buffalo
Graze peacefully
I can almost hear
Those black hills callin' me to:
Blue Mesa
Land of the Sioux and Crow
Blue Mesa
No matter where I go
You will always be
Home, sweet, home to me
Blue Mesa.
Ridin' high above the prairie floor
With every passin' day
I swear I love you more:
Blue Mesa
Land of the Sioux and Crow
Blue Mesa
No matter where I go
You will always be
Home, sweet, home to me
Blue Mesa.
Blue Mesa
Land of the Sioux and Crow
Blue Mesa
No matter where I go
You will always be
Home, sweet, home to me
Blue Mesa.
You will always be
Home, sweet, home to me
Blue Mesa...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Design-(The Fabric Of Our Life?
Carnegie Hall has nothing on you...
Your design 'tis quite divine-?
Vice president of fabric-a velvet King...?
A Grand Master of Interior Design;
New York-it 'surely' loves you...
Michigan gave you your B.A. degree-
Chicago taught your interior- very well...
While you pulled the Wool over my eyes that now see;
A designer of pretence and scamming?
Caught up in your textile most divine?
Selling New York or 'tis it Newark?
You know longer fool these green eyes of mine;
Too used to people befriending me...
Now- too used to all of their lies...
Trust? whats that? lying to me flat...
You really take the the prize;
An 'altruistic' booby trap just waiting?
To think that i almost believed-
Michigan and Illinois must love you...
Just wonder how many others you have deceived?
What is the real name of your racket, anyway?
In collusion with some of my so-called-friends?
Taking a bite out of the Big Apple...
I can now forsee your most crooked end;
Dedicated to: Rockville Centre, New York
And to the man of many faces. (2007)
April,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Chicago Art Institute
They got these two big stone lions
fronting Michigan Avenue
in downtown Chicago
Inside are oil paintings
by Edward Hopper -
mostly city scenes
you know the kind I mean?
empty streets
lonely rooms
deserted buildings
There I was in one of those offices-
feet up on a battered desk
cigarette smoke curling up-
I'd already downed a slug
of good booze that burned its way down
lighting a blaze in my gut
the 38 Smith & Wesson snugged
in a shoulder holster.
Like Philip Marlowe the private eye
I too got big baby blues that kill the broads-
I'm always ready for a fight!
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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In the turbulent town of Chicago
lived the brother of Dr. Shivago.
He was taking a break
sailing Michigan Lake.
But he called it 'Chicago Lago'.
quote by by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Salt Lake City
Down in utah
The guys and I dig a city called salt lake
Its got the grooviest kids
Thats why we never get tired of salt lake
And the way the kids talk so cool
Is an out of sight thing
And the number one radio station
Makes the town really swing yeah
Salt lake city well be coming soon
Theres a park near the city, yeah
All the kids dig the lagoon now
Its full of all kinds of girls
And rides and well be flyin there soon now
And girl for girl
Theyve got the cutest of the western states
They got the sun in the summer
And winter time the skiing is great yeah
Salt lake city well be coming soon
Salt lake city well be coming soon
Well be coming soon
Well be coming soon
Well be coming soon
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Great Chicago Fire
The great Chicago Fire, friends,
Will never be forgot;
In the history of Chicago
It will remain a darken spot.
It was a dreadful horrid sight
To see that City in flames;
But no human aid could save it,
For all skill was tried in vain.
In the year of 1871,
In October on the 8th,
The people in that City, then
Was full of life, and great.
Less than four days it lay in ruins,
That garden City, so great
Lay smouldering in ashes,
In a sad and pitiful state.
It was a sad, sad scene indeed,
To see the fire arise,
And hear the crackling of the flames
As it almost reached the skies,
And sadder still, to hear the moans,
Of people in the flames
Cry for help, and none could get,
Ah, die where they remained.
To see the people run for life;
Up and down the blazing streets,
To find then, their escape cut off
By the fiery flaming sheets,
And others hunting for some friend
That perhaps they never found,
Such weeping, wailing, never was known,
For a thousands miles around.
Some people were very wealthy
On the morning of the 10th.
But at the close of the evening,
Was poor, but felt content,
Glad to escape from harm with life
With friends they loved so well,
Some will try to gain more wisdom,
By the sad sight they beheld.
Five thousand people were homeless,
Sad wanderers in the streets,
With no shelter to cover them,
And no food had they to eat.
They wandered down by the lake side,
Lay down on the cold damp ground,
So tired and weary and homeless,
So the rich, the poor, was found.
Mothers with dear little infants,
Some clinging to the breast.
People of every description
All laid down there to rest,
With the sky as their covering,
Ah, pillows they had none.
Sad, oh sad, it must have been,
For those poor homeless ones.
Neighboring Cities sent comfort,
To the poor lone helpless ones,
And God will not forget them
In all the years to come.
Now the City of Chicago
Is built up anew once more,
And may it never be visited
With such a great fire no more.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Chicago through my eyes
Chicago is a city that never sleeps
From parties to clubs to talk shows and make over’s
Wake up to the sound of a bird that peeps
To men that acts like a 4 leaf clover.
To Mr. Confidence that stands on thin ice
Your life is what people see it as
Make it something, make it roll like dice.
Expensive diamonds that should be in class
But comes last as thunder comes after love.
What is Chicago to the people who live?
Death is my only hope for a white dove.
To a community that arrive in five.
It’s just a city I call home for now
So let me stand up and take a bow.
poem by Tationa Triplett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prophecy of a Ten Ton Cheese
In presenting this delicate, dainty morsel to the imagination of the people, I believed that it could be realized. I viewed the machine that turned and raised the mamoth cheese, and saw the powerful machine invented by James Ireland at the West Oxford companies factory to turn the great and fine cheese he was making there. This company with but little assistance could produce a ten ton cheese.
Who hath prophetic vision sees
In future times a ten ton cheese,
Several companies could join
To furnish curd for great combine
More honor far than making gun
Of mighty size and many a ton.
Machine it could be made with ease
That could turn this monster cheese,
The greatest honour to our land
Would be this orb of finest brand,
Three hundred curd they would need squeeze
For to make this mammoth cheese.
So British lands could confederate
Three hundred provinces in one state,
When all in harmony agrees
To be pressed in one like this cheese,
Then one skillful hand could acquire
Power to move British empire.
But various curds must be combined
And each factory their curd must grind,
To blend harmonious in one
This great cheese of mighty span,
And uniform in quality
A glorious reality.
But it will need a powerful press
This cheese queen to caress,
And a large extent of charms
Hoop will encircle in its arms,
And we do not now despair,
But we shall see it at world's fair.
And view the people all agog, so
Excited o'er it in Chicago,
To seek fresh conquests queen of cheese
She may sail across the seas,
Where she would meet reception grand
From the warm hearts in old England.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poor Old Cannon
Upbroke the sun
In red-gold foam;
Thus spoke the gun
At the Soldier's Home:
"Whenever I hear
Blue thunder speak
My voice sounds clear
But little and weak.
"And when the proud
Young cockerels crow
My voice sounds loud,
But gentle and low.
"When the mocking-bird
Prolongs his note
I cannot be heard
Though I split my throat."
poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Moving Chicago's Seasoned Memories
For old Saint Patty's Day is approaching
from just around the corner, with the
inevitable commencing of springs true
greenness from the wonders of Mother Nature
There's also an absolute certainly of an
observance within the moonlight for
Chicago's river scent; with its
highlighted illuminating mellow wames,
as colorful as spring's memorial green
itself, to be seen all along the downtown
Lake Michigan's opening body and the
Chicago river's mouth, and with the
occurrence of sheer exhilaration
poem by Derek Johnson
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Only In Chicago
I went back
Yes I went back to find out
What we did wrong and
I went back
Yes I went back to see just
How we could feel so good
In Chicago
We seemed to have it all
It was real
It was love
I went back
And I sat by the lake
And looked at the stars
And oh I swear
I remember how much we laughed
And I loved you so
In Chicago
I know we had it all
It was real
It was love
Only in Chicago
Love is in the air
In Chicago
There's a magic there
In Chicago
Our Chicago
Baby, you and I
We tried to take it with us
But you can't go back
'Cause I went back to find out
What we did wrong and
Now I see
That it wasn't just you
It wasn't just me
It was Chicago
But I'm still in love with you
Only you
Only you
But only in Chicago
REPEAT CHORUS
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The High Seas
Was it someone she met thats so hard to forget
Was it some kind of an ocean of changes
I dont remember where she said she would be
And since I dont know, let me guess
Was it somewhere in michigan or the lake of the woods
Up in old montreal or toronto the good
Somewhere in reno or somewhere in rome
And when all is said and done
Will she leave me alone
I dont want to get so low
And as for my sadness, it comes and it goes
I dont remember where she said she would be
Back in the city or on the high seas
Was it up in hornpayne where the trains run on time
Was she drinking champagne when she made up her mind
North of the border or down in south bend
And when all is said and done
Is there no rainbows end
I dont want to own the key
To some ghostly mansion where souls are set free
I dont remember where she said she would go
Straight for the highway or down the low road
I dont remember where she said she would be
Back in the city or on the high seas
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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