City of Death
The city reminded her
Of a room full of dark flies;
The constant sound of buzzing;
The frightening hitting of
Bodies against the sides; but
Something more disturbing was
Brought to mind: the memory
Of Mr Danzinki who
Died in a room up on Eastside,
And no one found him for months
On end, and the flies got in
And laid their seeds, and they came
To fruition and buzzed in
Turn, and when his rescuers
Opened the door of the room,
There was that awful smell of
Decomposition, and a
Swarm of flies, and the image
That someone told her as a
Child of the sickening find,
Took up residence in her
Mind and stayed there, and somehow
Related to the city, and
The whole buzz and noise of the
Place, and maybe some dying
Corpse down there in the moving
Throng, and a sense of death and
Dying in the city's air.
poem by Terry Collett
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Related quotes
Flypapers at Auntie's House.
Flypapers hung in the kitchen
Of Auntie’s house. Death traps
For flies that buzzed at their ends
Or buzzed noisily from surface
To surface unaware the brown
Sticky strips were there to trap.
You stared at the long brown strips
Covered in flies, some buzzed fruitlessly,
Others were quiet and still, having
Given up the will to buzz or make noise
Just hanging there black corpses on
Brown paper, a graveyard swaying in
The draught from the wide open door
To buzz and fly and irritate no more.
poem by Terry Collett
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Cities
(david byrne)think of london - small city
Dark - dark in the daytime
People sleep - sleep in the daytime
If they want to - if they want to
Im checkin em out
Im checkin em out
Ive got it figured out
Ive got it figured out
Theres some good points - some bad points
But it all works out - Im just a little freaked out
Find your city -
Find yourself a city to live in
I will find a city -
Find yourself a city to live in
A lot of bridges in birmingham
A lot of ghosts - and a lot of houses
Look over there - dry ice factory
Good place to get some thinking done
Im checkin em out
Im checkin em out
Ive got it figured out
Im the one who got it figured out
Theres some good points - some bad points
Find your city -
Find yourself a city to live in
I will find a city -
Find yourself a city to live in
Did I forget to mention -
Forget to mention memphish
Home of elvis and the ancient greeks
Do I smell - I smell home cooking
Its only the river - its only the river
Im checkin em out
Im checkin em out
Ive got it figured out
Ive got it figured out
Theres some good points - some bad points
Are those things real? denied!
Find your city -
Find yourself a city to live in
I will find a city -
Find yourself a city to live in
I will find a city -
Find yourself a city to live in
I will find a city
Find yourself a city to live in
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Birds are silent
Today is a stupid day
Since you are away home
Birds were silent today
I want them to be noisy all the time
I hope they don’t fly away
They should always sing for us
In this old city
There is nothing left
Except memories
Actually I am filled with the memories of you
Your face is like a city for me
A city full of joy
A city which heals me when I am wounded
A city which accommodates me
Whenever you are away from me
I am frightened
Frightened like a baby in the dark
For me, my love you are my light
Sometimes I hate this room
For it is too small to occupy my love
When we are in this room
Locked in and locked together
I always look at the street light opposite to us
It’s like an old man searching for something
Sometimes it looks at me
With it’s fainted eyes
But it always smiles at you, my dear
Oh my dear please comeback soon
Birds start singing.
poem by Pramod Sen
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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
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Drama On The Golden Prince On The 7th Floor, Cebu City...
i am in a place away from home.
in my room there are two beds
the curtains are double layered
the thicker one i set aside leaving the
silky one transparent so i can see
vaguely the outline of the whole city
as i am on top of this little world
where i may have a holistic view
of this present moment.
i need some definitions of what
solitude is. It does not have the haunting qualities of
the guilty mind.
when i sleep tonight i shall not make creases
on the blanket.
i do not turn on
the TV
I will be listening to the sound of the carpet on the floor
when i walk barefooted and put my hands on the railing
of the window
watching the city glow
the lights of the cars moving
in different colors
other friends may make a call
but i am turning my cellphone off
really, really, there is no place
to replace a home.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Night Flyer
Carrying silence on its wings
Over the night's city
The bat moans unheard by men.
Softly it flies in hunt for food
The noise down below seems distant,
An alienating sound he never was a part of,
His flight engraved on the pale moon.
There's so little time, morning will come soon.
But the city spews up only soot
His search is despairing for a tree bearing fruit.
Oblivious life noisily flows below
Consigning the bat to a death of doom,
There's no food and morn will come soon.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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I Still Love the City, But the City Doesn't Love Me
Some have told me the city will ruin me
Some said the city is an ugly place
The city has marred better men than me
I hadn’t lived in the city for quite some time,
But living there again was an amazing experience
The city glowed with a dazzling beauty,
Pumping a vitality in my veins
Through my heart, an exuberant,
Youthful feeling of excitement
I let the city have my heart.
I thought the city gave me hers.
This love was not meant to last.
I had to leave the city for a little while.
The city couldn’t handle the distance,
Provoking the city to eject me from
The city’s heart, ripping and tearing
Until I was only a memory, a fling
So I left the city in search of a new life.
I found myself alone in the desert.
I convinced myself the city was only
A memory locked away
The days were sweltering and arduous,
The nights were frigid and excruciating
These times were spent alone, in silence
Where almost no life is sustainable,
And I ignored the ghosts which
Maliciously brought about vibrant,
Heartwarming thoughts of the city
I turned North, the city far passed
The horizon, though its glimmer
Reaches me still
Its lights do nothing but illuminate
The darkness this desert has
Brought into my heart
And the damage my lungs have
Sustained as they drown in my
Quiet tears
In this moment, I unleashed
An ugly, primal scream
From the depths of my marred soul,
The waves traveling through miles of
Nothingness
It was then when I realized
I still love the city.
But the city doesn’t love me.
poem by Alex Gomez
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New York City
Standing on the corner
Just me and yoko ono
We was waiting for jerry to land
Up come a man with a guitar in his hand
Singing, have a marijuana if you can
His name was david peel
And we found that he was real
He sang, the pope smokes dope every day
Up come a policeman shoved us up the street
Singing, power to the people today!
New york city...new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
Well down to maxs kansas city
Got down the nitty gritty
With the elephants memory band
Laid something down
As the news spread around
About the plastic ono elephants memory band!
And we played some funky boogie
And laid some tutti frutti
Singing, long tall sallys a man.
Up come a preacherman trying to be a teacher
Singing, gods a red herring in drag!
New york city...new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
New york city...new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
Well we did the staten island ferry
Making movies for the telly
Played the fillmore and apollo for freedom
Tried to shake our image
Just a cycling through the village
But found that we had left it back in london
Well nobody came to bug us
Hustle us or shove us
So we decided to make it our home
If the man wants to shove us out
We gonna jump and shout
The statue of liberty said, come!
New york city...new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
New york city...back in new york city...new york city
Que pasa, new york?
Que pasa, new york?
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Say Who Dont Need To Fake
The freedom is my destiny
The freedom is like the wind in my face
I need, because freedom is love
The water holes, the city gates
The sweetest taste, the broken street
She take me around, playing with my sound
Throw your arms around love and me
The archer without range
The elemental of fire burning you
A hand on my shoulder
Please say who don't need to fake
In this worthless place
The storm is here like her fear
And when she comes around
You know there's aura in the area of taste
But now doomed the room is
Silent the room is
Wasted the room is
Safe the room is
Lonely the room is
Gone the room is
And all your lessons with your enemy
poem by Not A Dream Choice
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The City Vs. The Country
In the city where the colours run dry,
Or in the country where the farmers grow rye.
In the city where there are fees,
Or in the country where beauty is free.
In the city where there are loud crowds,
Or in the country where you can watch clouds.
In the city where you camp out in your room,
Or in the country where you have fun dancing with a broom.
In the city where there are polluting cars,
Or in the county where you can see stars.
In the city where you seal the deal,
Or in the country where you can heal.
In the city where you say later,
Or in the country where you can see the water.
In the city where space is tight,
Or in the country where you hold their hand in the moonlight.
Written by Haley McRae,14.
poem by Haley McRae
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In His Hands
Driven conversations, even I can read
Wouldn't want to fake it, and I'm tired of this dream
Taking medications, in the back of the room
Driven conversations, he died in June.
See the stab wounds in his hands
See him dying in his room
He's dying in his room
He's dying in his room
Heading for me, heading this way
He is coming, I don't care
Wouldn't want to fake it, well I don't mind
Giving conversations to a friend of mine
Giving medications, in a lighted room
Wouldn't want to fake it, I know I should
See the stab wounds in his hands
You killed him, I don't care
Keep a promise, you would too
Keep a promise, even you
See the silence in his head
He is coming, I don't care
We're not gonna make it, well I don't mind
Wouldn't want to fake it, but I have this time
Giving conversations, to whom they don't know
Taking medications till my stomach's full.
See a famine in his head
See him coming at their heels
He loves you, give him a chance
I don't love him, I don't care
See him starving, give her hell
It is over, we don't care In His Room
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It’s called the inner city
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
Thin walls no privacy
Big yard, living in close proximity
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes it has shaped my destiny
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
Adults sit around
Getting shot and maim
Children run around
Oblivious
Playing their games
In the filth that flows untamed
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
On death row I ask what happen to me
This is not the way it was suppose be
So I drag my mind trying to recall
The life I had beyond these prison walls
I see
How hard I try not to run with the pack
But against me the cards were stack
They need protection they need someone
But you can’t protect them with empty hand
In the inner city
It’s called the inner city
Poverty, amidst luxury
A city no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
Political connections, fearless and strong
Dispensing justice with an even hand
Truth be told, I am a ladies’ man
So naturally they call me the “Don”
In the inner city
It’s called the inner city
It’s called the inner city
A city, no one build for me
It’s called the inner city
Yes, it has shaped my destiny
Now on death row
Soon, I’ll go
I am guilty?
No one will know
The script is written and sing like a song
They used, refused and then they kill the “Don”
In the inner city
Hah, ha, ha, a, a, a
Hah, ha, ha, a, a, a
poem by Ikhalfani Solan
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A Doorway
When you gave your love to me, I never gave you chains.
If you need to prove youre free.
My love for you remains (you know my love stays)
Love is not a prison cell.
True love can never die
Theres nothing that you shouldnt tell
You never have to lie (to me you shouldnt)
But if you have to keep something inside you.
You know Ill never want to steal it away
I respect your territory.
Hope theres room in world for me.
Is there room in your mind to see.
A doorway ? if you say
Blood is pumping through my heart.
And flowing through my veins.
All it keeps me living for.
The love that is sustains (you now I never).
Time stopped when I saw your face.
And if it start Ill cry
The universe is in your smile.
Is heaven in your eye ?
But if you have to keep something inside you.
You know Ill never want to steal it away
I respect your territory.
Hope theres room in your world for me.
Is there room in your mind to see.
A doorway ? if you say
I respect your territory (you need your territory.)
Hope theres room in your world for me (find a place in your world for me).
Is there room in your mind to see (I want a doorway).
A doorway ? if you say.
I respect your territory (you need your territory.)
Hope theres room in your world for me (keep a place in your mind for me ? ).
Is there room in your mind to see (I want a doorway).
A doorway ? if you say.
I know you need your territory (you need your territory.)
Is there room in your world for me (cant you see what it means to me ? ).
Hope theres room in your mind to see (I need a doorway).
A doorway ? one fine day (I want a).
I respect your territory (you need your territory.)
Hope theres room in your world for me (cant you find a place for me ? ).
Is there room in your mind to see.
A doorway ? if you say (I want a doorway).
I respect your territory (I need a territory.)
Hope theres room in your world for me (cant you find a place for me ? ).
Is there room in your mind to see (I want a doorway).
A doorway ? (I want a, I want a, I want a doorway).
If you say.
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You are not just a city.
You are not just a city,
You are more than that,
Much, much more,
For you are the very heart of God.
Let no one say you are just a city,
Let them that do be accursed,
You are more than that,
You are the brightest jewel in His crown.
Jerusalem, eternal and holy,
Not just a city,
The throne room is what you are,
From you He will reign.
Not just a city,
You are the very heart,
A bright shining star,
Yerushilim, this is what you are.
poem by Steven Reeve
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I sit alone...
I sit alone
In this cold dark room
No windows no doors
Just icy cold air
I live alone
In this cold dark room
No family no friends
Just loneliness to share
I stay alone
In this cold dark room
No voices no sounds
Just nobody to care
I probe alone
In this cold dark room
In my mind in my world
Just a room filled with despair
I roam alone
In this cold dark room
No way in no way out
Just a worn but rigid snare
I rust alone
In this cold dark room
Not because there is no other way
Just because its easier that way....
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Cold Dark..
I sit alone
In this cold dark room
No windows no doors
Just icy cold air
I live alone
In this cold dark room
No family no friends
Just loneliness to share
I stay alone
In this cold dark room
No voices no sounds
Just nobody to care
I probe alone
In this cold dark room
In my mind in my world
Just a room filled with despair
I roam alone
In this cold dark room
No way in no way out
Just a worn but rigid snare
I rust alone
In this cold dark room
Not because there is no other way
Just because its easier that way....
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Fogging Up The Windows
the sound of a small child crying
hungry in the night
of a young woman sleepless
waiting for daylight
the sound of church bells ringing
not too far away
the sound of an old man dying
remembering how to pray
the sound of two hearts breaking
a thousand miles apart
of the last tear a fallin'
unseen in the dark
the sound of lifetimes wasted
of a love that didnt last
the sound of memories forgotten
of a time already past
can you hear?
can you hear?
a lone tree a fallin'
a hoot owl callin'
life and death, a lover's breath
fogging up the windows
of an empty room...
fogging up the windows
of an empty room...
the sound of the nails driven
into His screaming hands
the sound of salvation
entrusted to a man
the sound of bodies falling
of buildings swept by flame
the sound of different voices
whose souls are the same
can you hear?
can you hear?
a lone tree a fallin'
a hoot owl callin'
life and death, a lover's breath
fogging up the windows
of an empty room...
fogging up the windows
of an empty room....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sanary
Her little hot room looked over the bay
Through a stiff palisade of glinting palms,
And there she would lie in the heat of the day,
Her dark head resting upon her arms,
So quiet, so still, she did not seem
To think, to feel, or even to dream.
The shimmering, blinding web of sea
Hung from the sky, and the spider sun
With busy frightening cruelty
Crawled over the sky and spun and spun.
She could see it still when she shut her eyes,
And the little boats caught in the web like flies.
Down below at this idle hour
Nobody walked in the dust street;
A scent of a dying mimosa flower
Lay on the air, but sweet--too sweet.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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The Royal Scam
And they wandered in
From the city of st. john
Without a dime
Wearing coats that shined
Both red and green
Colors from their sunny island
From their boats of iron
They looked upon the promised land
Where surely life was sweet
On the rising tide
To new york city
Did they ride into the street
See the glory
Of the royal scam
They are hounded down
To the bottom of a bad town
Amid the ruins
Where they learn to fear
An angry race of fallen kings
Their dark companions
While the memory of
Their southern sky was clouded by
A savage winter
Every patron saint
Hung on the wall, shared the room
With twenty sinners
See the glory
Of the royal scam
By the blackened wall
He does it all
He thinks hes died and gone to heaven
Now the tale is told
By the old man back home
He reads the letter
How they are paid in gold
Just to babble in the back room
All night and waste their time
And they wandered in
From the city of st. john without a dime
See the glory
Of the royal scam
song performed by by Steely Dan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Big City Type
I woke up in a big city apartment
Rode to a big city job
On a big city subway
With hip, big city people
Worked at a big city job
In a big city skyscraper
Stood in a big city line
For lunch, heard big city jazz
On a big city radio station
It was like a big city scene
In a big budget movie
When I realized I had become
The big city type
I always wanted to be
Yet I was still me
poem by Adam Artois
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