London
London, a silhouette of old and new buildings,
some, still with winding staircases,
dark dismal cellars and dusty attics.
Sky scrapers, office blocks,
chic cottages and town houses
in, tiny, back street lanes
where I seldom wander
The London Eye revolves in the sky line,
spying on us, ogling the City,
that old river Thames,
with its river boats, old ships,
odd ships and the Houses of Parliament,
offices, where we, the peasants
may only look through the glass.
As a child I truly believed
that one day, I'd go into every building,
curiosity my forte, but of course,
there are too many, mostly private,
barred from my prying eyes,
except for some Castles, the Palace,
the Tower and its dungeons.
These are the buildings of London,
with its art galleries, theatres,
churches and museums.
No doubt some are haunted,
their ghosts still walking
within their walls,
at dusk, when shadows fall.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Related quotes
Moon Shining Over The London Bridge
The sky is dark now
And the night is here again
But there is a moon shining over the London Bridge right over the sky
And I keep watching that moon while I rest for a while at the Thames River
But I can't take my eyes of the moon that is shining over the London Bridge right over the sky because it is beautiful to see
And at the same time it is getting late now but I don't mind at all because I Rather stay all night at The Thames river watching the moon shining over The London Bridge right over the sky
Yes the Big Ben chined midnight now and London is going to sleep
But I am falling asleep now at The Thames river below the naked three That is there at the Thanes River
Also all the buildings near The Thames river have their lights out
And I am sleeping in totall darkness and at the same time enjoying the Peace and quiet of the Thames river during the night
But near the Thames River is always cold and I don't mind at all Because I am dressed for this kind of weather
But this night at the Thames River I will always remember because it Will be the best sleep I ever had in years
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Thames! Beautiful Thames!
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
Thames River arises at Gloucestershire,
flows thro' London, the capital of U.K;
Thames River is tidal in London
With a rise and fall of 7 meters,
The river is fed by more than 20 tributaries;
The Thames River which flows alongside
several other towns and cities -
Oxford, Reading, Henley-on-Thames,
Windsor, Kingston upon Thames and Richmond -
is beautiful;
Thames River has a total length of 215 mile,
River banks on either side are beautiful,
Pavement strolling stretch on either side
is beautiful;
Boats sailing in Thames river are beautiful,
Young women who sail in the boats are beautiful,
White swan pairs' which swim in the river are beautiful;
Watching swans from the bridge,
- which spans Reading and Caversham -
somersaulting to catch the fish
is still more exciting and beautiful!
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Watching Swans From Caversham Bridge
Thames! Beautiful Thames! !
Thames flows through London
Thames is tidal With a rise and fall
of 7 meters in London;
Thames flows through 'Reading'
And its banks are beautiful,
Pavement strolling stretch on either side
is beautiful;
Boats sailing in Thames
Young women who sail in the boats
White swan pairs' which swim in the river
are beautiful;
Watching from Caversham bridge,
somersaulting swans catching the fish
is still more exciting!
Thames! Beautiful Thames! !
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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London Town
I do believe
I must believe
I think I can begin again
Become again the man I was back when
So Im walking on your streets again
Feeling now as I did then
Ive since become a different man
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back
I can remember lots of time and space
If I lose the name, still I know the faces
Time as come and left its traces
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back
When I grew too old and dull to rock n roll
Like to hold on tight to you darling
And when my fires have all burned out
Id like to think I can still think about
The things I used to sing about
When I was spending all my time alone
By myself and on my own
Seldom seen and quite unknown
London town, turn be around
London town, carry me back
O london town, lost and found
And I feel like going back
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London Song
Theres a room in a house in a street in a manor in a borough
Thats part of a city that is generally referred to as london
Its a dark place, a mysterious place
And it is said that if youre born within the sound of bow-bells
You have the necessary qualifications to be christened a londoner
[its a cruel place, its a hard place]
But when you think back to all the great londoners
William blake, charles dickens, dick whittington,
Pearly kings, barrow boys, arthur daley, max wall
And dont forget the kray twins
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day
You can see right down to leicester square [london, london]
Crystal palace, clapham common, right down to streatham hill
North and south, I feel that Im a londoner still [london, london]
Chiswick bridge to newham and east ham
Churchbells ring out through the land
You were born in london, england
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
And theres a tap by a reservoir, leading to a stream,
That turns into a river estuary that eventually opens to the sea
[london, london]
And theres a docker by a wharf, sending cargo overseas,
Unloading foreign trade from a large ocean vessel
In the mighty metropolitan port of london
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
When I think of all the londoners still unsung
East-enders, west-enders, oriental-enders
Fu manchu, sherlock holmes, jack spock, henry cooper,
Thomas abecket, thomas moore, and dont forget the kray twins
Theres a part of me that says get out
Then one day Ill hear somebody shout
Sounds to me like you come from london town
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day,
Ill be there [Ill be there]
Yes I will be there [there]
Through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Down To London
Stop - whats that sound
Its the death rattle of this rusty old town
Stop - listen again
Its the sound of laughter all along the thames
Hey - whats my line
Do I have to stay here til the end of time
Im - good lookin and bright
I wanna see life after ten at night
So if they ask you where I am
Im in the back of a transit van
In a squat on the earls court road
Gone down to london turning coal into gold
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
Hey - whats your name
The boys back home all seem to look the same
You - should stick with me
And one of us will make it, just you see
Stop - whats that sound
Seems like the sixties are still swingin around
Hey - can you hear me back there
Or is there anybody left to care
So if you ask me where they are
Theyre hanging tough in a soho bar
Playing guitars in the underground
Gone down to london tryin to chase that sound
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
So I ask you should I cry or laugh
Drinking tea in a kings cross caff
A leather jacket against the cold
Gone down to london turning coal into gold
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London Pool
London Pool's in London town,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's in London town,
Where the great ships anchor down!
O to shake the canvas free,
Hear the cordage cheerily
Whistling to the open sea
Down from London Pool, O!
London Pool's a crowded place,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's a crowded place,
Crafts and crews of every race!
O to hear the clanking chain
Trail along the wharf again, -
Hear the tautening ropes astrain
Down from London Pool, O!
London Pool's a gallant sight,
Ay, boys! O boys!
London Pool's a gallant sight,
Toil by day and glare by night!
O to shake our heels and go, -
Feel the four free winds ablow,
Hail the lights of long ago
Down from London Pool, O!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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The Train To Waterloo
I can see the 10.06 train heading towards Waterloo,
And, I wish I could jump aboard, and go there too!
I have a real longing to head on up to London City,
But I have to go to work today, which is a real pity.
In spirit, I’m also riding with the people on the train,
But, here, in this sleepy old town, my body remains.
I can imagine myself sitting there in a train carriage;
With London, I have formed a really loving marriage!
To be one of those lucky passengers, I am yearning;
So much so, that it feels as though my heart is burning.
I can imagine sitting on a train, which is really packed,
As it heads up towards London, along the railway tracks.
I’ve lived here, all my life, in this sleepy little town,
Where there is hardly ever anything really going down.
But, in London, there is always something going on,
Amidst the Capital’s seemingly never-ending throng.
I so love being there, slap bang in the middle of it all;
Surrounded by crowds, the river, and buildings so tall.
Compared to my town, there’s a different atmosphere;
It’s more exciting, more happening, than it ever is here.
The sights and sounds, in London, I so love to savour,
And breathe in the aroma of a whole world of flavours.
To go to London very often, sadly, I just can’t afford,
But it still doesn’t stop me wishing that I was aboard.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Tower Of London
Let me take you to trafalgar square
Let me take you there
Every streets a fashion catwalk
Everyones debonair
Let me take you to piccadilly
Guess it leads somewhere
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Yours and mine - tower of london!
Hip london! hip london!
Let me take you to st.jamess square
Let me groove you there
Diplomats get target practice
In the open air
Psychobillies scream blue murder
Then they hit mayfair
Tower over centuries, tower over london
Tower up and frankly Im amazed
Whats done cannot be undone, not here not in london
Whats done can never be erased
So, tower up! - its those little things
Make life interesting- tower of london!
Tower up! - wasting time
Precious time - tower of london!
Tower up! Ill meet you there
Ill be there - tower of london
New york! - dont make me laugh
Ive seen photographs - tower of london...
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By The Old Pagoda Anchorage [1926]
By the old Pagoda Anchorage they lay full fifteen strong,
And their spars were like a forest, and their names were like a song,
Fiery Cross
and
Falcon
there
Lay with
Spindrift
, doomed and fair,
And
Sir Lancelot
of a hundred famous fights with wind and wave:
Belted Will
and
Hallowe'en
With
Leander
there were seen,
And
Ariel
and
Titania
and
Robin Hood
the brave:
Thyatira
of the lovely name and proud
Thermopylae
,
By the old Pagoda Anchorage when clippers sailed the sea,
Racing home to London River -
Carry on for London River -
Crack her on for London River with her chests of China tea!
By the old Pagoda Anchorage (it's many a year ago!)
A sight it was to see them with their decks like drifted snow,
And their brasses winking bright,
And the gleaming gold and white
Of the carven kings and maidens on each slim and soaring bow,
And the high and slender spars
Humming shanties to the stars,
And the hulls whose speed and staunchness are a dead man's secret now -
The ships so brave and beautiful that never more shall be,
By the old Pagoda Anchorage when clippers sailed the sea,
Racing home to London River -
Crack her on for London River -
Carry on for London River with her chests of China tea!
By the old Pagoda Anchorage the clippers lie no more,
There is silence on the river, there is quiet on the shore,
And the silted channels seem
Still to murmur as in dream
Of the tea ships in their glory, lifting sea-ward on the tide,
All the strong and fair and fleet,
By those shores that used to meet,
And the valiant master mariners that walked their decks in pride,
By the old Pagoda Anchorage when clippers sailed the sea,
Logging fourteen on a bowline, ay, and seventeen running free,
Racing home for London River -
Crack her on for London River -
Carry on for London River with her chests of China tea!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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London
New York winter
Traffic squeals
The city feels...so old
Late December
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
Got your letter Monday
I think
Or Tuesday
I lose track
Since then I've been thinking of you
And I've been
Looking back to
London
Can you believe it's
So many years since
London
Hitching a ride and
Carrying knapsacks
London
In the park
By the Thames
Drinking tea
London
Sitting in pubs and
Living in walk-ups
London
Learning the accent
Learnin' to love you
London
We were young
We we sure
We were...free
Was it really ages
Ago
The memories
Never fade
Can you hear Big Ben where
You are
And are you
Glad you stayed in
London
Dodging the rain with
Broken umbrellas
London
Reading the times
On Saturday picnics
London
Counting the stars,
'Till the stars
All were gone
London
So many plans and
Nothing but time in
London
Nothing to fear 'cause
Nothing could last in
London
We grew close
We grew scared
I moved on
Oh London
What were we scared of
Why did I run from
London
Part of me still has
Never come back from
London
Is it fair
That I miss
You so much
Take good care
All my love
Keep in touch
New York winter
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Themes
This river is more than just water
This river is in every building, every stone every mortar
This river is an emotion not to be summed up in words
Only to be felt by those who have seen the life it holds
This river is the stars that shine off its suffice at night
The twinkling of an everlasting light
A show of strength, a show of might
A show that only the river can be right
For millions of years London has changed
But only one thing has ever been sustained
It kept the city moving so its never the same
That's why London owes its life to this ever pumping vein
poem by William Cheesman
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By The Old Pagoda Anchorage [1924]
By the old Pagoda Anchorage they lay full fifteen strong,
And their spars were like a forest, and their names were like a song.
Fiery Cross and Falcon there
Lay with Spindrift, doomed and fair,
And Sir Lancelot of a hundred famous fights with wind and wave,
Belted Will and Hallowe'en
With Leander there were seen,
And Ariel and Titania and Robin Hood the brave . . .
Thyatira of the lovely name and proud Thermopylae,
By the old Pagoda Anchorage when clippers sailed the sea -
Racing home to London River -
Carry on for London River -
Crack her on for London River with her chests of China tea!
By the old Pagoda Anchorage (it's many a year ago!)
A sight it was to see them with their decks like drifted snow,
And their brasses winking bright,
And the gleaming gold and white
Of the carven kings and maidens on each slim and soaring bow,
And the high and slender spars
Humming shanties to the stars,
And the hulls whose speed and staunchness are a dead man's secret now, -
The ships so brave and beautiful that never more shall be,
By the old Pagoda Anchorage when clippers sailed the sea -
Racing home to London River -
Crack her on for London River -
Carry on for London River with her chests of China tea!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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London
It was november 4th
I last held your hand
It seemed our time would last forever
You said dont ever leave
I thought youd never go
I wish I could just remember your name...
Youre just a memory now
Like all the ones before
But with your pain Ive had to suffer
Your eyes alight with flame
As the picture burns
I hear the screams from long ago
They cry remember, blood-red streaks on
Velvet throats at night
The streetlights fanned our trail of fame
Through
London london
The memories will never leave me
London london
All I see is you
London london
The cries in the night
Keep bringing me to
London london
Calling out to me
Oh theres some things in life I could never face
The worst is being alone
Sometimes I wish I could have taken your
Place my love
You know I dont want to live forever
Oh let me see you standing in the
Shadows once again
Well walk the streets like long ago in
London london
The fire in your eyes will be bringing me to
London london
All I need is you
The cries in the night keep ringing on in
London london
Calling out to you
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London
We came from the far North
summered in Crimea
deserted the armed forces
had to disappear
made it to the free West
on a chartered flight
so we could see what
we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
Looking for hard work
or credit card fraud
What do you expect from us?
We come from abroad
to get ourselves a new job
on a building-site
They work you so hard
but we trained to fight
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
My father fought in Afghanistan
His widow's pension ain't worth a damn
My mother works and goes home to cry
I want to live before I die
We were in London
"Let's do it - let's break the law!"
We were in London
Tell it like it is
We were in London
Tell it like it is
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Janice and You At London Bridge
It was the fourth day
since the break up
from school
for the summer vacation
and you were riding
with Janice
on the bus
to London Bridge
and she was wearing
the lemon coloured dress
you liked
that came to the knees
which were pressed
together
and the brown sandals
with the patterned holes
and the red beret
on her fair hair
was swaying
with the motion
of the bus
opposite you
was a man
wearing a trilby
and a moustache
who kept looking at you
with his dark eyes
his head going
from side to side
as the bus moved
and he sat next
to Janice
his hands
on his knees
and he turned
and gazed
at Janice's knees
then up at you again
his features flushing
and then he looked away
at the passing scene
behind you
pretending
you weren't there
then at London Bridge
he got off
and so did you
and Janice
and you waited
until he had gone
walking up
and over the bridge
and you said
he was a queer fish
who?
said Janice
that bloke
who sat next to you
why?
she asked
he kept staring at me
and ogling
at your knees
did he?
Janice said
you wait
until I tell Gran
about that
she'll say
you watch out
for his type Janice
he's no better
than he ought to be
you nodded
and smiled
at her imitation
of her gran
and she laughed
and you both
walked down
the steps and by
Southwark Cathedral
to the embankment
by the River Thames
and stood by the wall
looking at the passing
boats and ships and tugs
and the occasional
ducks floating
on the brown water
and you felt Janice's
9 year old hand
touch yours
as she pretended
(as she often did)
that you were
a married couple
out for a romantic walk
gazing
at the passing scenery
with the added
small talk.
poem by Terry Collett
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London Holds My Heart
I'd kill to see the lights of London
Out of the windows of my room
Or to gaze upon the streets of Cairo
And farther out all of the pharaohs' tombs
I'd love to see the Eiffel Tower
And the Louvre's pieces of art
But there is only one city I could stay in
For only London holds my heart
To gaze across Scottish meadows
And bask in the light of an Irish moon
To hear the street musicians of Rome
Doling out their classic tunes
I want to fall asleep at sunset
In the snug bed of an Israel inn
And sip the finest of Greek wines
And lay with Arabian silks caressing my skin
How it would be to walk the deserts of Mecca
Or bathe in the Nile river for a few nights
To wander the vast jungles of Africa
And see the exotic birds take flight
What I wouldn't give to run up the stairs of old cathedrals
In ancient cities made up of ancient art
Though there is only one city I can ever belong to
London Holds My Heart
poem by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow
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The Garden Sleeper
He slept for years out of doors
in a garden in London, his daytime
job, some sort of writer.
I didn't know him, but my path
as a young typist must have crossed his:
not only a bright colleger
but an abandoned lover, a philosopher,
a gardener without a garden
and a loafer in cafes rode to work with me.
From my north London window also
came the peck of a typewriter,
above the tired lemon shrub trees
hemmed in by dozing cats.
Trapped among statuary
lay summer-houses all year through.
He slept behind
the throng, the push of humankind,
the escalator pit,
the tall deaf buildings
connecting squares,
mind burrowing
in sentence-stretches, bits of maps
out of the libraries, museums,
much-loved bookshops.
Leaves opened out
in a city of milllions.
We read each other now.
A scrap in a plant-pot in my room
turned into a fuchsia.
Daisy-light shone by the railings.
At last, we all saw our
fought-for survivals
unfold. Each road led to another.
We do not live in London
and I have a garden
I am too old to sleep in.
1990
poem by Sally Evans
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The Oldest Thing In London
A thousand landmarks perish,
A hundred streets grow strange;
With all the dreams they cherish
They go the ways of change;
But, whatso towers may tumble,
And whatso bridges fall,
And whatso statues crumble
Of folk both great and small,
The Oldest Thing in London he changes not at all.
The shoutings of the foeman,
The groanings of the slain,
The galley of the Roman,
The longship of the Dane,
The warring of the nations,
The judgment of the Lord
On heedless generations
In plague and fire and sword,
The Oldest Thing in London has known them and endured.
When London wall was builded
And London stone was new,
When first Paul's spire rose gilded
And gleaming in the blue,
Ere Holbein yet was christened,
When no one dreamed of Wren,
And clear the Ty-bourne glistened
And the Fleet was seen of men
The Oldest Thing in London was not much younger then.
New Londons rise like bubbles,
Like bubbles break and pass,
Or some dark dream that troubles
A wizard's magic glass;
A little while they hustle
And glitter in the sun,
And feast and fret and bustle
And chaffer, and have done -
The Oldest Thing in London he sees them every one.
No stones so strong to weather
Sun's heat or winter's blast
But time and man together
May tear them down at last;
The toughest rafters moulder,
The stoutest beams decay,
But he seems little older
From day to changing day -
The Oldest Thing in London that passes not away.
Each day to her, his daughter,
On each returning tide
He brings as first he brought her
Her dower of wealth and pride;
Twice daily, now as ever
At London's feet is laid
By London's ancient river
The burthen of her trade
By London's ancient river -
Way-hay, you London River!
The Oldest Thing in London, whereby was London made!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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Contemplating Hell
Contemplating Hell, as I once heard it,
My brother Shelley found it to be a place
Much like the city of London. I,
Who do not live in London, but in Los Angeles,
Find, contemplating Hell, that it
Must be even more like Los Angeles.
Also in Hell,
I do not doubt it, there exist these opulent gardens
With flowers as large as trees, wilting, of course,
Very quickly, if they are not watered with very expensive water. And fruit markets
With great leaps of fruit, which nonetheless
Possess neither scent nor taste. And endless trains of autos,
Lighter than their own shadows, swifter than
Foolish thoughts, shimmering vehicles, in which
Rosy people, coming from nowhere, go nowhere.
And houses, designed for happiness, standing empty,
Even when inhabited.
Even the houses in Hell are not all ugly.
But concern about being thrown into the street
Consumes the inhabitants of the villas no less
Than the inhabitants of the barracks.
poem by Bertolt Brecht
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