Springfield Magical
In this, the City of my Discontent,
Sometimes there comes a whisper from the grass,
"Romance, Romance — is here. No Hindu town
Is quite so strange. No Citadel of Brass
By Sinbad found, held half such love and hate;
No picture-palace in a picture-book
Such webs of Friendship, Beauty, Greed and Fate!"
In this, the City of my Discontent,
Down from the sky, up from the smoking deep
Wild legends new and old burn round my bed
While trees and grass and men are wrapped in sleep.
Angels come down, with Christmas in their hearts,
Gentle, whimsical, laughing, heaven-sent;
And, for a day, fair Peace have given me
In this, the City of my Discontent!
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Urbs Coronata
(Song for the City College of New York)
O youngest of the giant brood
Of cities far-renowned;
In wealth and power thou hast passed
Thy rivals at a bound;
And now thou art a queen, New York;
And how wilt thou be crowned?
"Weave me no palace-wreath of pride,"
The royal city said;
"Nor forge an iron fortress-wall
To frown upon my head;
But let me wear a diadem
Of Wisdom's towers instead."
And so upon her island height
She worked her will forsooth,
She set upon her rocky brow
A citadel of Truth,
A house of Light, a home of Thought,
A shrine of noble Youth.
Stand here, ye City College towers,
And look both up and down;
Remember all who wrought for you
Within the toiling town;
Remember all they thought for you,
And all the hopes they brought for you,
And be the City's Crown.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Romance Bore Seduction
Hand blessed hand, caressed.
A blushing rose, her face;
Her breast alive;
The elfin nose, a diamond set -
A kiss upon perfection
Bore a rise of pulse
To coach a sultry moan
Across a mellow breath of wine.
He knew; he sensed,
And easing loose a clasp of lace,
Another sign of her relenting:
Wild the play of eyes,
A fuller glide of skin;
He felt the now begin -
Her swell, intention in the sigh.
And so to hedge his move upon the cue -
The cry of deep anticipation,
Waxing all he saw -
Tho' not for us to view -
Arrived, emotion raw.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Now render to caressing waves of romance
Romance romance romance romance
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Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
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Romance romance romance romance
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Romance romance romance romance
Romance romance romance romance
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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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I Long For That City
For that City do I deeply long
Where victory songs we'll sing
Temper is all grace and good there
Discontent and malice won't ever flare
For that City does my heart beat
No room is there for the chaff, only the wheat
It's all pure gold, as clear as glass
Shining with God's glory, like a stone all precious
To dwelling in that City I look forward
Where a river with the water of life flows downward
From the throne of God and of the Lamb
No regrets there; just peace under Jesus' thumb
There's no death
There's no sorrow
There's no crying
There's no pain
How I long for that City!
poem by by unknown author
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Romance In The City
ROMANCE IN THE CITY
Melvin Banggollay
you got an amazing beauty
so lovely and truly enchanting
that captured me to desire thee
with passion now wildly burning.
Call me if ever you feel lonely
And I'll come like a lightning
and without rest I will love thee
with magical touch so enticing.
Truly its cold there in Baguio City
And you need a romantic darling
That can turn you wild and happy
with a romance so enduring.
I'll promise I'll be gentle to thee
As I'll sip you with my romancing
and you'll never regret with me
For I'll love thee without fading.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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Sydney my Love
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
Pretty pretty place,
Plenty- plenty beauty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
First rays of sun –
Spread here fun,
Splendour and majesty,
Nothing so beauty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
Tidy beaches, green green trees,
Heavenly blowing cool cool breeze,
Kissing the shore waves sporty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
Fort Dension, port Jackson,
Kings Cross, Opera attraction,
Harbour bridge, Bondi beach,
Place to find calm & peace,
Sydney is our identity.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
Kangaroo, emu, blue mountain,
Adventure, romance, 4x, fun.
Flora fauna, folk, fidelity.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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I Am One
I am one as you are three
Try to find a messiah in your trinity
Your city to burn
Your city to burn
Try to look for something
Your city to burn; you'll burn
Am I as I seem? Oh no
Don't slow down
Time is right for a guiding light
Try to turn to reasons in your inner life
Your city to burn
Your city to burn
Try to look for something
Your city to burn; you'll burn
Said you're the only one who
Said I am one
Said now you're the one who
Said I am one
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from Vieuphoria
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My City, My Town
My city, my town
The day u were birthed
No one regretted
My City
The glory of both the young and old
a site for everyone to behold
My city
A place of great edifices
a town with wonderful places
Four and two-legged machines
Fills this land unconditionally
A place of constant influx
Beautiful lush green grass
Filled the lawns at every corner
Bridges everywhere
as long as monumental caterpillars
Masts of every network
as tall as the Eiffel Tower of Paris,
A total amazement..
My city,
A beauty to uphold,
Now a story yet untold
My city, oh my town
You are losing your luster,
colour and radiance
That made humans of all race
want to advance, to seek solace
My city, My town
The land that brought memories
of neighborliness,
Everyone, together as of same parents
Awake from your slumber
Oh my great city, 'The Garden-City'
The crown princess of Rivers state
Why do you constantly hibernate?
Wake up
My city, my town,
Be like David,
Defeat this Goliath called GREED!
Show your feat
and make this enemy face the heat.
Edwina Aleme, (c) 2009
poem by Edwina Aleme
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I Met a Seer
I met a seer.
He held in his hands
The book of wisdom.
"Sir," I addressed him,
"Let me read."
"Child -- " he began.
"Sir," I said,
"Think not that I am a child,
For already I know much
Of that which you hold.
Aye, much."
He smiled.
Then he opened the book
And held it before me. --
Strange that I should have grown so suddenly blind.
poem by Stephen Crane
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City Of The Angels
City of the angels
City of the angels
Walkin' and talkin' and laughin' about
Dreamin' the things that you want will work out
People in places where you want to be
I'm lost in the city
Who's got the key
City of the angels
Ooh, I hear you callin' me
City of the angels
I've got this feelin' that things will work out
I've got this feelin', and there ain't no doubt
I'm holding on, hoping to find
Life in this city can bring peace of mind
City of the angels
Ooh, I hear you callin' me
City of the angels
City of the angels
Oh, I hear you callin' me
City of the angels
Just like, just like it used to be, yes
City of the angels
I'm goin' home, home
Bye-bye, bye-bye, bye-bye
Oh, bye-bye, bye-bye, bye-bye
Yeah, yeah, I'm leavin'
Oh, oh, I'm goin home
My friend I'm leavin'
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Romace in the moonlight
In the city where the colours run dry
Or in the country where the colour green is applied
In the city where there are polluting cars
Or in the country where you can see the stars
In the city there are gangs, all full of violence
Or in the country where there is only silence
In the city where the air, its so thick
Or in the country where you dont feel sick
In the city where you seal the deal
Or in the country where it is a place to heal
In the city every corner is a fight
But in the city the romance is in the moonlight
poem by Nicole Buckland
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Sonnet 145: Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Those lips that Love's own hand did make
Breathed forth the sound that said "I hate"
To me that languished for her sake;
But when she saw my woeful state,
Straight in her heart did mercy come,
Chiding that tongue that ever sweet
Was used in giving gentle doom,
And taught it thus anew to greet:
"I hate" she altered with an end,
That followed it as gentle day
Doth follow night, who like a fiend
From heaven to hell is flown away.
"I hate" from hate away she threw,
And saved my life, saying "not you."
poem by William Shakespeare
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Top Of The City
One more step to the top of the city
Where just a couple of pigeons are living
Up on the angels shoulders
I dont know if Im closer to heaven but
It looks like hell down there
These streets have never been paved with gold
Welcome to the loneliest city in the world
Its no good for you baby
Its no good for you now
Keep looking up for the ladder
I dont know if youll love me for it
But I dont think we should suffer this
Theres just one thing we can do about it
Take me up to the top of the city
Take me up to the top of the city
Take me up to the top of the city
And put me up on the angels shoulders
See how that building there is nearly built
Theres a big fire over on the north of the city
I see you walking down the street with her
I see your lights going on and off
Shes no good for you baby
Shes no good for you now
Look Im here with the ladder
I dont know if you love me or not
But I dont think we should ever suffer
Theres just one thing we can do about this
Take me up to the top of the city
Take me up to the top of the city
Up to the highest point of the city
One more step to the top of the city
Put me up on the angels shoulders
And I dont mind if its dangerous
I dont mind if its raining
Take me up to the top of the city
And put me up on the angels shoulders
Take me up to the top of the city
Mmm yes, one more step to the top of the city
And put me up on the angels shoulders
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The King
"Farewell, Romance!" the Cave-men said;
"With bone well carved he went away,
Flint arms the ignoble arrowhead,
And jasper tips the spear to-day.
Changed are the Gods of Hunt and Dance,
And he with these. Farewell, Romance!"
"Farewell, Romance!" the Lake-folk sighed;
"We lift the weight of flatling years;
The caverns of the mountain-side
Hold him who scorns our hutted piers.
Lost hills whereby we dare not dwell,
Guard ye his rest. Romance, farewell!"
"Farewell, Romance!" the Soldier spoke;
"By sleight of sword we may not win,
But scuffle 'mid uncleanly smoke
Of arquebus and culverin.
Honour is lost, and none may tell
Who paid good blows. Romance, farewell!"
"Farewell, Romance!" the Traders cried;
Our keels ha' lain with every sea;
The dull-returning wind and tide
Heave up the wharf where we would be;
The known and noted breezes swell
Our trudging sail. Romance, farewell!"
"Good-bye, Romance!" the Skipper said;
"He vanished with the coal we burn;
Our dial marks full steam ahead,
Our speed is timed to half a turn.
Sure as the ferried barge we ply
'Twixt port and port. Romance, good-bye!"
"Romance!" the season-tickets mourn,
"~He~ never ran to catch his train,
But passed with coach and guard and horn --
And left the local -- late again!"
Confound Romance! . . . And all unseen
Romance brought up the nine-fifteen.
His hand was on the lever laid,
His oil-can soothed the worrying cranks,
His whistle waked the snowbound grade,
His fog-horn cut the reeking Banks;
By dock and deep and mine and mill
The Boy-god reckless laboured still!
Robed, crowned and throned, he wove his spell,
Where heart-blood beat or hearth-smoke curled,
With unconsidered miracle,
Hedged in a backward-gazing world;
Then taught his chosen bard to say:
"Our King was with us -- yesterday!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Oh To Be Out In The Country
A hot day in the city and scarce a puff of breeze
Oh to be out in the country in the cool shade of the trees
In the shadow of the wattles leafing through a favourite book
Listening to the coot and black duck calling in the quiet brook.
Oh to be out in the country on this sunny Summer's day
In the hills above Wonthaggi more than eighty miles away
In the shadow of the gum trees many miles from city street
Stretched and resting on the fog grass sheltering from the mid day heat.
I feel tired of city living city life's a hard old slog
And I am sick of man's pollution sick of breathing smoke and smog
Oh to be out in the country by a creek enjoying a beer
In a World free of pollution many miles away from here.
A hot day in the city near thirty five degrees
Oh to be out in the country in the cool shade of the trees
In the shadow of the gum trees many miles from city street
Stretched and resting on the fog grass sheltering from the mid day heat.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Muse
Born among them,
Mount Louis;
An altar of uncut stones!
There they were,
Hidden in his tent;
But they have stolen from us and,
Have covered up the theft!
It is joyful like,
Honey from the rock;
But at daybreak i will look for the thief.
Oil from the flinty rock,
The lion's carcass is now nearby;
But be separated from these negative acts of the world.
Be mindful and be peaceful,
And like the city of salt;
For your mother will explain a lot to you.
To the city of romance and to the city of peace,
To the city of love and to the city of care,
To the city of talents and to the city of thieves! !
Inheritance among the children,
But hear oh earth!
And ask your father to explain things for you,
But my muse is like the rain drops on every house.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The essence of man is, discontent, divine discontent; a sort of love without a beloved, the ache we feel in a member we no longer have.
quote by Jose Ortega y Gasset
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Soul of the City Receives the Gift of the Holy Spirit
A BROADSIDE DISTRIBUTED IN SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS
Censers are swinging,
Over the town;
Censers are swinging,
Look overhead!
Censers are swinging,
Heaven comes down.
City, dead city,
Awake from the dead!
Censers, tremendous,
Gleam overhead.
Wind-harps are ringing,
Wind-harps unseen—
Calling and calling:—
"Wake from the dead.
Rise, little city,
Shine like a queen."
Soldiers of Christ
For battle grow keen.
Heaven-sent winds
Haunt alley and lane.
Singing of life
In town-meadows green
After the toil
And battle and pain.
Incense is pouring
Like the spring rain
Down on the mob
That moil through the street.
Blessed are they
Who behold it and gain
Power made more mighty
Thro' every defeat.
Builders, toil on.
Make all complete.
Make Springfield wonderful.
Make her renown
Worthy this day,
Till, at God's feet,
Tranced, saved forever,
Waits the white town.
Censers are swinging
Over the town,
Censers gigantic!
Look overhead!
Hear the winds singing:—
"Heaven comes down.
City, dead city,
Awake from the dead."
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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SQUATTERS (Slum-Dwellers)
We cleaned the Dorm this morning
and found the dead rat
The Matron said it stank
and must be thrown out.
I suggested a good grave
but she said,
"Throw it into the garbage."
I pity the innocent rat
helpless at the dreadful
claws of the cat.
So we argued.
She said, "Rats are dreadful!
and cats are the protectors! "
She complained about her loss
Mentioned about the her torn,
Tattered rags and cartoons.
She said, "Rats must be exterminated
That the City of man gets rid
Of the ugly and grotesque! "
But I said,
"They need their right home
and if dead, they need
the right grave."
I see no longer the native rats
because of the wild cats
No more torn, tattered rags,
papers and cartoons.
And the wild cats rejoice
over the order and new wonders
for which the Matron -
the recipient of congratulations.
"Rats must not contaminate
the City of Man, "
the Matron said.
And she added,
"They are eyesores
They smell and stink
so throw them
into the garbage."
__________________
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The House of Fortune III
My wearied heart bade me farewell and left for the House of Fortune. As he reached that holy city which the soul had blessed and worshipped, he commenced wondering, for he could not find what he had always imagined would be there. The city was empty of power, money, and authority.
And my heart spoke to the daughter of Love saying, "Oh Love, where can I find Contentment? I heard that she had come here to join you."
And the daughter of Love responded, "Contentment has already gone to preach her gospel in the city, where greed and corruption are paramount; we are not in need of her."
Fortune craves not Contentment, for it is an earthly hope, and its desires are embraced by union with objects, while Contentment is naught but heartfelt.
The eternal soul is never contented; it ever seeks exaltation. Then my heart looked upon Life of Beauty and said: "Thou art all knowledge; enlighten me as to the mystery of Woman." And he answered, "Oh human heart, woman is your own reflection, and whatever you are, she is; wherever you live, she lives; she is like religion if not interpreted by the ignorant, and like a moon, if not veiled with clouds, and like a breeze, if not poisoned with impurities."
And my heart walked toward Knowledge, the daughter of Love and Beauty, and said, "Bestow upon me wisdom, that I might share it with the people." And she responded, "Say not wisdom, but rather fortune, for real fortune comes not from outside, but begins in the Holy of Holies of life. Share of thyself with the people."
poem by Khalil Gibran
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