Smog
Smog, filthy, thick smog and the bitter cold,
fills my mind as I think back to my childhood.
Our noses would be black with it,
our lungs clogged with it.
Worse of all was the zero visibility,
a mugger's delight and a child's nightmare.
We would walk in groups, with torches,
trying not to trip or fall.
Inside my bedroom window, ice would form
and outside I'd see stalactites
hanging like daggers,
beautiful.
Each winter we'd freeze and shiver
with only one small coal fire to heat
a two up, two down
terraced house.
I used to wait for the coalman
by the alley, where our gate was.
He'd black hands, dirty face
and a broad grin.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Los Angeles
Skyscrapers
Break the sky,
Smog chokes the air,
Endless buildings go on
Forever-
Los Angeles Times-
LAX,
Traveling down the 10
Towards Santa Monica,
Dirty
Filthy
Ragged city.
Where are the artists?
Poets?
Writers?
Musicians?
All at home creating
The city. Inspiration
For the willing.
Ugly, dirty, ragged,
Beautiful.
This
Filthy
City.
poem by Randy Briggs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Black House On The Corner
I passed by that house everday,
wondering what lurked inside of it,
was their some kind of ancient evil inside,
or a normal family that we never saw,
a house of macarbe,
it was painted black like the devil's sin,
it was surrouned by devilish-looking,
figures that stood outside on the line,
was also surrounded by a black pointed fence,
rumors of the devil himself living there,
the devil in the flesh,
satan living on my street corner,
The black house on the corner,
can't you see it,
you must walk past it everyday to,
dosen't your mind wander,
when you walk by The black house,
don't you to know what lays inside of the house,
maybe a ton of dead bodies under the floor boards,
a madman butcherd up his family,
could that be true,
or are our young minds racing again,
with impure and insane thoughts about,
who or what lives in the black house on the corner,
the black house,
painted with the devil's sin,
We were told to stay away from the black house,
that so many evils lived inside of it,
but us being kids we didn't want to live,
we wanted to see what was inside of the black house on the corner,
But we are to afraid to go forward,
we are to afraid to step through the gate,
and walk up the beaten path to the door bell,
it looks so old and so evil,
The black house on the corner,
we shall never know what evilness,
or what macabre force resides within,
the black house on the corner,
whatever you do,
don't go into the black house on the corner,
stay away from,
the black house on the corner,
it holds so many evils,
the black house on the corner,
poem by Robert Rumery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Addiction Poem) Bad Habit
Burning crosses
Blowing up bridges
Taking out the stitches
Confinement
Locked up abroad
Slaughtering the filthy hog
Choking on the cities smog
Leaning on the rock
I'm jittery
I'm not so pretty
Things are getting ugly
Another fight
Break out tonight
Take flight
Burning crosses
Blowing up bridges
Taking out the stitches
Confinement
Locked up abroad
Slaughtering the filthy hog
Choking on the cities smog
Leaning on the rock
I'm fiending
I'm getting mean
Drunk and obliterated
No consultation
With such actions
No chance to make retractions
These are my statements
No way to prevent it
It will happen again
Flashbacks
Flash
Flash
One two three
Somebody stop me please
Burning crosses
Blowing up bridges
Taking out the stitches
Confinement
Locked up abroad
Slaughtering the filthy hog
Choking on the cities smog
Leaning on the rock
So broke
Can't even afford a coke
Driving through a light that's so red
It's a stolen car
For sure the cops are not far
No matter
I shall go faster
Soon their will be a disaster
And I shall be splattered
My soul will go to the happily ever after
All because I was too dumb
To just leave it alone
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Keys of Morning
While at her bedroom window once,
Learning her task for school,
Little Louisa lonely sat
In the morning clear and cool,
She slanted her small bead-brown eyes
Across the empty street,
And saw Death softly watching her
In the sunshine pale and sweet.
His was a long lean sallow face;
He sat with half-shut eyes,
Like a old sailor in a ship
Becalmed 'neath tropic skies.
Beside him in the dust he had set
His staff and shady hat;
These, peeping small, Louisa saw
Quite clearly where she sat -
The thinness of his coal-black locks,
His hands so long and lean
They scarcely seemed to grasp at all
The keys that hung between:
Both were of gold, but one was small,
And with this last did he
Wag in the air, as if to say,
"Come hither, child, to me!"
Louisa laid her lesson book
On the cold window-sill;
And in the sleepy sunshine house
Went softly down, until
She stood in the half-opened door,
And peeped. But strange to say
Where Death just now had sunning sat
Only a shadow lay:
Just the tall chimney's round-topped cowl,
And the small sun behind,
Had with its shadow in the dust
Called sleepy Death to mind.
But most she thought how strange it was
Two keys that he should bear,
And that, when beckoning, he should wag
The littlest in the air.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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A Golden Memory
When I was a young child
about five to seven years of age.
I noticed the neighbour's trees
were dirty and sooty and black.
Black with smoke chimney coal dust.
The bark was ugly dirty and black
the leaves were ugly dirty and black.
And barely green if at all in most places,
except a little on the side facing the sun.
The sun I saw as a beautiful yellow light.
Next to my father's garage grew these trees.
They were really tall shrubs, but I was but still
a young child, with much to learn in this world,
ruled by mean men. Magic and the elfin language,
still danced like sparkling stardust in my eyes.
Next to my father's garage grew these trees.
They were so sad dull black lifeless and ugly.
I took a bright yellow lively house paint.
And painted the trees yellow bright golden yellow,
in all sad places I could short armed easily reach.
But I also got paint on my hands face clothes.
In my wonderful joy I got paint on my clothes.
My apparently best going to town best clothes.
My mother punished me for painting the trees.
And the leaves a bright joyous yellow colour.
For making a small part
of this dull adult world.
A golden magical shinning
bright fairy glade place.
For painting making a small part
of this dull adult fading world.
A golden orb magical shinning
bright mystical fairy glade place.
For trying to make the tired
world a better magical place.
Thus were childhood dreamers
often beaten into submission.
By those who failed to see
the divine presence in dreams.
By those who failed to see
the magical sparkle in dreams.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Beauty, inside and out
I am black
I am beautiful
inside and out
I am black
I am beautiful
my voice is medium toned, I try not to shout
I am black
I am beautiful
I don't let anyone put me down
I am black
I am beautiful
Though sometimes I may act as a clown
I am black
I am beautiful
I'm filled with such pride
I am black
I am beautiful
I'll make such a wonderful bride
Black and Beauty
that describes the outside of me
Nice or mean, you have to decide
To me and most people I am nice inside
I am beautiful, I am black
I am black, I am beautiful
poem by Camacy Melville
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CANVASS-3(Azure) -revised
CANVASS—3(azure) -revised
(Dedicated to Madam Marie Shine a great soul and Irish poet)
my sky is azure today
like the London sky
over the Thames
like the Calcutta sky
in the winter evening
with smog
like the Delhi sky
overcast with fog
in the early hours of the day
still the sun removes
the veil from her face
a gloom like an Albatross
hangs
over my shoulder
behind the window-grills
I feel as if a jail-bird
who will remove this guilt
from my mind
since you have left
with an unspoken word
with the rise of sun
the sky gets clear of fogs
the smog
gets clear by rains
will the guilt be
washed away with tears?
unless you forgive me
forever...
.
Rajkumar@Kolkata
22-05-2009
Rajkumar Mukherjee
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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An Early Morning Walk
i had a walk this morning
and i saw twilight
fog hovering still on the feet of the mountains
there is beauty in haze
in the opaqueness of smog
i inhale cold air inside my lungs
and walk faster
there is dew on the grass
as fingers of light comes out from the hazy fog
herons arrive and land on the green fields
catching the frogs
the brown cow is munching grass inside its mouth
still lying comfortably on the ground
the macopa tree shed its leaves
in favor of new shiny ones
the trail is clear
no one has arrived here yet
it is about to rain with all the gray clouds lumping in the sky
ah, i am not running for shelter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black On Black II
Daddy's little soldier boy
Mama's little pride and joy
Both hands on her apron strings
"Don't you touch that dirty thing"
A warning signal from above
Inspection with a clean white glove
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract like black on black
The oldest story known to man
The willing sacrificial lamb
Behind the light a shadow falls
The code of silence shakes the walls
A whisper to a silent scream
The power is so frightening
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract just like black on black
A warning signal from above
Inspection with a clean white glove
They say that opposites attract like right and wrong
Black on black
Some things seem so sacred
Like a loaded question the power of suggestion
Like the face of danger the kindness of a stranger
Like a Judas Kiss like pleasure and a little pain
I'mmaculate seduction absolute corruption
Ice and fire counteract no turning back like black on black
Black on black.
Black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract like black on black
Like pleasure and a little pain
The sacred and profane
Ice and fire counteract just like black on black
Black
A little pain
Just like black on black
Black
Black on black
Black on black
Black on black
song performed by by Heart from Desire Walks On
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cremation - Ashes To Ashes
Well the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore, crying more-more-more
But the coal-black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change, the sea remains the same
The coal-black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up, collect you in a cup
For you the coal-black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
Or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the atlantic coast, have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal-black sea waits for me-me-me
The coal-black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint at some further point
The same coal-black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cremation
Well the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
The waves hit the shore
Crying more more more
But the coal black sea waits forever
The tornados come up the coast they run
Hurricanes rip the sky forever
Through the weathers change
the sea remains the same
The coal black sea waits forever
There are ashes split through collective guilt
People rest at sea forever
Since they burnt you up
Collect you in a cup
For you the coal black sea has no terror
Will your ashes float like some foreign boat
or will they sink absorbed forever
Will the Atlantic Coast
have its final boast
Nothing else contained you ever
Now the coal black sea waits for me me me
The coal black sea waits forever
When I leave this joint
at some further point
The same coal black sea will it be waiting
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bruised Orange
My heart's in the ice house come hill or come valley
Like a long ago sunday when i walked through the alley
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
Just to shovel some snow.
I heard sirens on the train track howl naked gettin' nuder,
An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter
Just from walking with his back turned
To the train that was coming so slow.
You can gaze out the window get mad and get madder,
Throw your hands in the air, say "what does it matter?"
But it don't do no good to get angry,
So help me i know
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
Wrapped up in a trap of your very own
Chain of sorrow.
I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there.
I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair
And my head shouted down to my heart
"you better look out below!"
Hey, it ain't such a long drop don't stammer don't stutter
From the diamonds in the sidewalk to the dirt in the gutter
And you carry those bruises to remind you wherever you go.
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bruised Orange (Chain Of Sorrow)
My heart's in the ice house come hill or come valley
Like a long ago Sunday when I walked through the alley
On a cold winter's morning to a church house
just to shovel some snow.
I heard sirens on the train track howl naked gettin' nuder,
An altar boy's been hit by a local commuter
just from walking with his back turned
to the train that was coming so slow.
You can gaze out the window get mad and get madder,
throw your hands in the air, say ";What does it matter?";
but it don't do no good to get angry,
so help me I know
For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
wrapped up in a trap of your very own
chain of sorrow.
I been brought down to zero, pulled out and put back there.
I sat on a park bench, kissed the girl with the black hair
and my head shouted down to my heart
";You better look out below!";
Hey, it ain't such a long drop don't stammer don't stutter
from the diamonds in the sidewalk to the dirt in the gutter
and you carry those bruises to remind you wherever you go.
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Numbness For Sound
A cold winter sun
My feet underground
A pale winter city
A numbness for sound
I'll wait back here
All that you notice
A moment in time
A photograph lost here
Since you were mine
I'll wait back here
Or should I
Start pushing my way back
Yeah, should I start
Pushing my way back
I walk past your room
In deep silhouette
You're tired of racing
You're down and I said
I'll wait back here
A cold end, and evening
A soaked cigarette
I'm asleep on a shoulder
That I've never met
I'll wait back here
Or should I
Start pushing my way back
Yeah, should I start
Pushing my way back
Cold, and the whiskey is wearing
And I'm on the edge of my breath
Oh, and I'm thinking of leaving
I could just lay down
Lay down and freeze to death
A cold winter sun
My feet underground
A pale winter city
A numbness for sound
song performed by by Howie Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dust Child
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child breathe your lungs a little while
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child to your surrender
Sleepwalking angel
Travel through a lonely house
Inspire hollow
Sadly follow
Your way to find me here
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child breathe your lungs a little more
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child to your surrender
Let dust settle
As blankets for your sleep
The skin tremble form the cold
Slowly'll corrode
Rest while you can
Before the sun comes up
And they'll find you where they find you
Only hope says they'll find you right here
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child breathe your lungs a little while
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child to your surrender
Wander ghostly cherub
Let torrents of empty calm you down
Let the dreams that wait for you dampen your lips
Until you wake and breathe your darling lungs no more...
Come child to your surrender (repeat until fades)
poem by Daniel Oliveira
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Paint It
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore, I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they are painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens every day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and its heading into black
Maybe then Ill fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby
I wanna see it painted painted, painted black, oh baby
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the setting sun
My love will laugh with me before the morning comes
I wanna see it painted, painted black, oh
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted from the sky
Painted, painted, painted black oh baby
Painted painted, painted black
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fire
I was picking raspberries, my head was in the canes,
And he came behind and kissed me, and I smacked him for his pains.
Says he, 'You take it easy! That ain't the way to do!
I love you hot as fire, my girl, and you know you know it too.
So won't you name the day?'
But I said, 'That I will not.'
And I pushed him away,
Out among the raspberries all on a summer day.
And I says, 'You ask in winter, if your love's so hot,
For it's summer now, and sunny, and my hands is full,' says I,
'With the fair by and by,
And the village dance and all;
And the turkey poults is small,
And so's the ducks and chicks,
And the hay not yet in ricks,
And the flower-show'll be presently and hop-picking's to come,
And the fruiting and the harvest home,
And my new white gown to make, and the jam all to be done.
Can't you leave a girl alone?
Your love's too hot for me!
Can't you leave a girl be
Till the evenings do draw in,
Till the leaves be getting thin,
Till the fires be lighted early, and the curtains drawed for tea?
That's the time to do your courting, if you come a-courting me!'
* * *
And he took it as I said it, an' not as it was meant.
And he went.
* * *
The hay was stacked, the fruit was picked, the hops were dry and
brown,
And everything was garnered, and the year turned upside down,
And the winter it come on, and the fires were early lit,
And he'd never come anigh again, and all my life was sick.
And I was cold alone, with nought to do but sit
With my hands in my black lap, and hear the clock tick.
For father, he lay dead
With the candles at his head,
And his coffin was that black I could see it through the wall;
And I'd sent them all away,
Though they'd offered for to stay.
I wanted to be cold alone, and learn to bear it all.
Then I heard him. I'd a-known it for his footstep just as plain
If he'd brought his regiment with him up the rutty frozen lane.
And I hadn't drawed the curtains, and I see him through the pane;
And I jumped up in my blacks and I threw the door back wide.
Says I, 'You come inside;
For it's cold outside for you,
And it's cold here too;
And I haven't no more pride -
It's too cold for that,' I cried.
* * *
Then I saw in his face
The fear of death, and desire.
And oh, I took and kissed him again and again,
And I clipped him close and all,
In the winter, in the dusk, in the quiet house-place,
With the coffin lying black and full the other side the wall;
And 'YOU warm my heart,' I told him, 'if there's any fire in men!'
And he got his two arms round me, and I felt the fire then.
And I warmed my heart at the fire.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Winter Cold And Dark
THE WINTER COLD AND DARK
The winter cold and dark-
The morning’s delay-
Anxiety is sadness,
Fear-pain.
To look out the window
And see darkness so black-
To wait for the light
And know Love
can never come back?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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L. A.
In a matter of time,
Therell be a friend of mine
Gonna come to the coast,
Youre gonna see him
Up close for a minute or two
While the ground cracks under you.
By the look in your eyes
Youd think that it was a surprise
But you seem to forget
Something somebody said
About the bubbles in the sea
And an ocean full of trees.
And you now, l.a.
Uptight, city in the smog, city in the smog.
Dont you wish that you could be here too?
Dont you wish that you could be here too?
Dont you wish that you could be here too?
Well, its hard to believe
So you get up to leave
And you laugh at the door
That you heard it all before
Oh its so good to know
That its all just a show for you.
But when the suppers are planned
And the freeways are crammed
And the mountains erupt
And the valley is sucked
Into cracks in the earth
Will I finally be heard by you.
L.a.
Uptight, city in the smog, city in the smog.
Dont you wish that you could be here too?
Dont you wish that you could be here too?
Dont you wish that you could be here too?
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dream Of Darkness
this house
where you live
has no door
the window is
as thin as
a Chinese eye
and it
does not open
despite
the heat inside
the bedroom
how can you
blame them
if they mistake you
for a coffin?
and so they mourn
for you
and just like any
repeated ritual
it ends and
then they
forget you
i know that
it is your last dream
before
the night goes as
black
as the ocean
on the trench
totally dark and
still undefiled
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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