En.Citatepedia^®.ro

City Nocturne

'Where there is no peace, there is no light.' Thomas Merton. Honorable Reader: Reflections on My Work

I dwell in city nights
hear cars cruising
down streets
streaming confusion
whispering,
boulevards of light
stunted lanes,
high-
wire siren, stunned
shot-
finders, tense
dispatchers rolling
black and whites,
ambulance
coroner's wagon
while laughing,
from theatre emerging,
from restaurant and bar
unaware, we swarm
through rivers of blood
to black cars, crush
of silent plush
power windows up
lock the doors
and slowly drive
through those
shimmering
terrible,
beautiful
streets.

poem by Steven Federle
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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
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Cars

Cars
Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
Its the only way to live
In cars
Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for ( nights )
- this is the only wrong word you put days
In cars
Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please?
If I open my door
In cars
Here in my car
I know Ive started to think
About leaving tonight
Although nothing seems right
In cars

song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Day In July

Black day in july
Motor city madness has touched the countryside
And through the smoke and cinders
You can hear it far and wide
The doors are quickly bolted
And the children locked inside
Black day in july
Black day in july
And the soul of motor city is bared across the land
As the book of law and order is taken in the hands
Of the sons of the fathers who were carried to this land
Black day in july
Black day in july
In the streets of motor city is a deadly silent sound
And the body of a dead youth lies stretched upon the ground
Upon the filthy pavement
No reason can be found
Black day in july
Black day in july
Motor city madness has touched the countryside
And the people rise in anger
And the streets begin to fill
And theres gunfire from the rooftops
And the blood begins to spill
Black day in july
In the mansion of the governor
Theres nothing that is known for sure
The telephone is ringing
And the pendulum is swinging
And they wonder how it happened
And they really know the reason
And it wasnt just the temperature
And it wasnt just the season
Black day in july
Black day in july
Motor citys burning and the flames are running wild
They reflect upon the waters of the river and the lake
And everyone is listening
And everyones awake
Black day in july
Black day in july
The printing press is turning
And the news is quickly flashed
And you read your morning paper
And you sip your cup of tea
And you wonder just in passing
Is it him or is it me
Black day in july
In the office of the president
The deed is done the troops are sent
Theres really not much choice you see
It looks to us like anarchy
And then the tanks go rolling in
To patch things up as best they can
There is no time to hesitate
The speech is made the dues can wait
Black day in july
Black day in july
The streets of motor city now are quiet and serene
But the shapes of gutted buildings
Strike terror to the heart
And you say how did it happen
And you say how did it start
Why cant we all be brothers
Why cant we live in peace
But the hands of the have-nots
Keep falling out of reach
Black day in july
Black day in july
Motor city madness has touched the countryside
And through the smoke and cinders
You can hear it far and wide
The doors are quickly bolted
And the children locked inside

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange(narrative poem)

I bumped into a guy
he said watch out
i told him hi
but he pushed me out
out into the streets i go
honk honk the cars go
bump the big truck hits me
and all the cars drive over me
the powpow pulled his gun out
and shot the man on his mouth
and there i landed lost my life
lonely in a silent night

poem by Jana Ghossein
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Cars Are Cars

Words & music by paul simon 1983
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Similarly made. similarly sold
In a motorcade. abandoned when theyre old
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Engine in the front. jack in the back
Wheels take the brunt. pinion and a rack
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
But people are strangers
They change with the curve
From time zone to time zone
As we can observe
They shut down their borders
And think theyre immune
They stand on their differences
And shoot at the moon
But cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Drive em on the left. drive em on the right
Susceptible to theft in the middle of the night
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
I once had a car
That was more like a home
I lived in it, loved in it
Polished its chrome
If some of my homes
Had been more like my car
I probably wouldnt have
Travelled this far
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world

song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Because We Are Loved

'...we come into being because we are loved and because we are meant to love others.'
Thomas Merton, Honorable Reader: Reflections on My Work

Deep inside
my silent room,
I gaze
at nothing,

as beyond the door
in trees glowing,
green and glistening,
birds sing, spring-
mad, mated,
passion-played!

The sun's rising
and cradling
Your risen
world,

I emerge.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Hear the Cars Race

I hear the cars race.

On the still night streets I hear it,
the rush of combustion, confusion of speed.

Power can slip through young fingers
like the leather leash of a big dog,
slashing tender hands.

I pray that they can hold on
or the beast will surely turn
and crush them
howling
like a
freight-train.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There are people

There are people
that claims the street as their own
and stand
at parking places on the sidewalk
and do no work
but to look after cars.

If you park there
and ignore them
and do not
want to use their services
you immediately
become a racist in their eyes

and they will make a scene,
threaten to damage your car,
or make sure that it’s stolen
or so they tell you
since they believe
that you owe them something.

Some spray soapy water
without invitation
on the front window
of your car
when you stop
at a traffic light
and wipe it off
demanding a price.

I wonder why the education
is still lacking
since they have already
got their liberation

and just as odd
these people are ignored
by their compatriots in government
as if they do not exist,
while the country
falls slowly
but surely to pieces.

There are people
that claims the possessions
of others as their own
and at night
prowl around in the streets
shooting, stabbing
and robbing
and estranging people
from their cars.

l’Envoi
Still I wonder where
the problem lies
and would really like
both of my cars back

and I do not know
about white people
that sneak around
in black neighbourhoods at night,
hijack cars,
brake windows
and demand possessions
with loaded guns.

All that they do,
is try to make a living
or hurry away in their leaving.

{Reference: “First liberation, then education.” Political slogan of the ruling party.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Peace Frog

Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
She came
Theres blood on the streets, its up to my knee
She came
Blood on the streets in the town of chicago
She came
Blood on the rise, its following me
Think about the break of day
She came and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
She came
Blood in the streets runs a river of sadness
She came
Blood in the streets its up to my thigh
She came
Yeah the river runs down the legs of the city
She came
The women are crying red rivers of weepin
She came into town and then she drove away
Sunlight in her hair
Indians scattered on dawns highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young childs fragile eggshell mind
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood streams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth of a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Theres blood in the streets, its up to my ankles
Blood in the streets, its up to my knee
Blood in the streets in the town of chicago
Blood on the rise, its following me

song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saturday Night Streets

Saturday Night Streets
Cars driving back and forth
People of different colors walking down the streets
laughing
talking
drinking
enj oying the night

The streets are talking to me
These streets have stories
different cars, different colors
I Love these streets
I love the night
I love Saturdays
l think I'm in love with these streets
I'm in love with Saturday night streets

Mon, Tues, Wed, Thurs, Fri, Sun belongs to workers and the sun
Saturday belongs to the night, people and these streets
Saturday Night Streets

poem by Rebecca Succes
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To me you are

To me you are the woman
that walks up and down
at the traffic light
and smiles almost shy,
when I look up
and still give a view
of her breasts

To me you are
the hunger and pain,
that I hear in the voices
of children in back streets
where they loose all courage.

To me you are
the crippled gum sniffing children,
that swing walk
with eyes without hope.

To me you are the vagrant,
that struggles along shuffling
and worries about the next
sleeping place and food
and smile without teeth
when he gets a few coins.

To me you are the beggar
who stands unobserved
at a busy traffic light,
while cars are streaming past
where nobody knows or comprehends
his despair.

To me you are the drug dealers
who hangs out in clubs
and look whom they can still catch,
with their contaminating
deadly poison.

To me you are the street thug,
that brakes car windows with bricks
and steal the valuables of people
and sell it at only a Rand or two.

To me you are the criminal
that steals cars in the streets
and are happy
with the despair,
that he is dealing out unscrupulous.

In reality you are the big city
that gives and takes,
where people live like termites
past each other
and rowed in,
as if others do not exist

To rather stay far away from it all
and to get rest and peace there
at times wants to take predominance,
but I love you
like a husband does his wife.

In you is where
some people still build dreams
and wish and live
and have an own place.

In you I see children
giving bread to birds
and people,
giving money to car guards.

In you are places
where people are making a living
and really help each other
and still I believe,
that in places in you
there are more good than evil.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Made Of Stone (808 State Remix)

Your knuckles whiten on the wheel
The last thing that your hands will feel
your final flight can't be delayed
No earth just sky it's so serene
Your pink fat lips let go a scream
You fry and melt I love the scene
Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Don't these times fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Is anybody home?
I'm standing warm against the cold
Now that the flames have taken hold
At least you left your life in style
And for as far as I can see
Tin twisted grills grin back at me
Bad money dies I love the scene
Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Don't these times
Fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Is anybody home
Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Don't these times
Fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Are you made of stone

song performed by by Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As I my steps

As I my steps
Along the grated streets
Of sweet Valletta I retraced
I passed from street to street
And I me thought that I could find
The dwelling where you lived.

For me those streets familiar quite
Became as dearer and dearer
As I from city street to street
My steps retraced their bearer

Aye! Aye! The streets became as dearer
And beautiful more than I had seen
For years and years before:
The pregnant windows frowning black
Unmoving ghosts in city pent
I wandered quite what did they hide
Behind their closed doors:
The small quaint front doors in the street
A few light inches the cobble stones above
With memories faint and dim
And with fast-fretting hither and thither
The hazy residents of those small abodes
Hid from my anxious questioning sight.

And as I passed along the street
A chimney high I saw smiling with glee
As it played child-like with white passing clouds
Above the warm sun shone on the old stones
That dreamt and dreamt and dreamt of years untold.

Aye! Aye! The city old
Above the harbor glideth
In my warm dreams:
The sailing clouds
Above the trees
In the small garden passing:
The green leaves
In their high towers
With each to each
In their wild love-making
To each and each are rustling:
The citizens in city streets
With hurried steps are passing.
And whither do they pass
And thither do they go?

The silent steps
In the small sullen street
I start descending
As if some thief to catch
That in some city nook
From me is hiding:
A lazy cat
Watches with half-open’d eye:
Little beyond
The stench of its urine
Drown’d by the sweet sense
Of roses pent in mortar cask
And hanging from the city wall.

Yes! Time is passing
In this sweet silent city of my dreams:
Let me allow it pass
Into the ocean sea-blue
That in midst of it
Like as in lover’s arms
My senses and myself will sink.

And I will not speak
And I will not sing
If not my lyre speaks
If not my lyre sings.

poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Made Of Stone

Your knuckles whiten on the wheel
The last thing that your hands will feel
Your final flight can't be delayed

No earth just sky it's so serene
Your pink fat lips let go a scream
You fry and melt I love the scene

Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me

Don't these times
Fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Is anybody home?

I'm standing warm against the cold
Now that the flames have taken hold
At least you left your life in style

And for as far as I can see
Tin twisted grills grin back at me
Bad money dies I love the scene

Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me

Don't these times
Fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Is anybody home

Sometimes I fantasize
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me

Don't these times
Fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Are you made of stone

song performed by by The Stone Roses from The Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Of Worcester

Worcester, the city of noise,
Walking along these city streets,
Seeing people busy,
pacing,
Cracked city walks,
Aged city houses,
Beautiful city air, '
Never seems to be a minute to spare,
As cars stream along,
Cops and fire trucks pass down my street.
Loud children playing in the streets.

As I walk down the street of mine,
I hear parents yelling at their children.
Dogs barking as you walk by,
Houses that are old and crusty,
Men and women fighting.
This right here is the city I was born in.
The City Of Worcester!

poem by Cassandra Prew
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Made Of Stone

Your knuckles whiten on the wheel
The last thing that your hands will feel
Your final flight cant be delayed
No earth, just sky its so surreal
Your pink fat lips let go a scream
You fry and melt I love the scene
Sometimes I fantasise
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Dont these times fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Is anybody home?
Im standing warm against the cold
Now that the flames have taken hold
At least you left your life in style
And for far as I can see
Ten twisted grills grin back at me
Bad money dies I love the scene
Sometimes I fantasise
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Dont these times fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Is anybody home?
Sometimes I fantasise
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Dont these times fill your eyes
When the streets are cold and lonely
And the cars they burn below me
Are you all alone
Are you made of stone?

song performed by by Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cars

Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
Its the only way to live
In cars
Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days
In cars
Here in my car
The image breaks down
Will you visit me please
If I open my door
In cars
Here in my car
I know Ive started to think
About leaving tonight
Although nothing seems right
In cars
I know Ive started to think
I know Ive started to think

song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hello, How Are You?

this fear of being what they are:
dead.

at least they are not out on the street, they
are careful to stay indoors, those
pasty mad who sit alone before their tv sets,
their lives full of canned, mutilated laughter.

their ideal neighborhood
of parked cars
of little green lawns
of little homes
the little doors that open and close
as their relatives visit
throughout the holidays
the doors closing
behind the dying who die so slowly
behind the dead who are still alive
in your quiet average neighborhood
of winding streets
of agony
of confusion
of horror
of fear
of ignorance.

a dog standing behind a fence.

a man silent at the window.

poem by Charles Bukowski
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Kamakura's treasured tree

Yesterday
one tree collapsed
eight hundred years old
and thirty meters high
it's true, he was!
May you rest in peace
beautiful Kamakura tree
He did give joy
to countless
insects, birds,
and people.
My heart does cry
in pain, is trying hard
to stop.
I'm holding back
my fears
for younger trees
which have no chance
to kiss the light
for even one
more year!
Oh dear dear dear..

must say..I do cry also for my city's trees, which were cut down to make more place for cars..
everytime they work on streets they have no mercy, cutting off all greens..heart breaking! !

poem by Elena Sandu
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Black & Whites

So many choices in my life these days
So much confusion, so many shades of gray
That sometimes I don't know
My left from my right
But I've got these old black and whites
Well, I'm every color that you can paint
A father, a lover, a mother, a sinner and a saint
From Sunday morning, to Saturday night
I've got these old black and whites
Under the spotlight or all alone at midnight
I know I'm right where I belong
It always unwinds me, it finds me then reminds me
That life is as simple as a song
Lovers, they come and surely they go
They fly you so high, say hello, say goodbye
And they leave you low
But that's all right here in these songs that I write
Right here on these old black and whites
So roll over Beethoven
Cause ol' Phil could use some room
I may be out of time and may be out of tune
But you know how it feels to pour out your life
Right here on these old black and whites
Livin life in black and white

song performed by by Phil Vassar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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