6 A.M. Manila Harbor Impression
upon entering the harbor mouth
it's not fog
it's smog
smoke and fog
blanketing the capital city
an artificial canopy
green house blanket
warming the globe
acid rain huge net
salty bay turning murky
wastes floating to-and-fro
assorted oil spills
dilapidated junkyard wall
dividing the shore
countless carcass
too foul to smell
greasy porter
greasy pier
naked street children diving
i throw peso coin for their lunch
they jump with overwhelmed happiness
and foolish about it
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Greasy Grass River
Written by: r. robinson & c. robinson
Now Im swimming in the greasy grass river
On my way to the black pearl sea
Yeah Im floating down the greasy grass river
Come one child come with me
Life is so easy on greasy grass river
Just take my hand and we can pretend to be free
You wanna be
Free
Come on with me
Take me down to the greasy grass river
Wash my hands where the water is clean
Lay me down by the greasy grass river
And unfold my mystery
The greasy grass river has water that whispers
Lets listen closely while
She says she wants to be free
You wanna be
Free
You know what I mean?
Outro:
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
Im out of my pocket and Im out on my mind
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dipped and Greasy
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Many praying that the buffet will stay.
Many praying that they'll find another way,
To supply more condiments...
And remove the after dinner mints.
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy...
Fingers licked from overeating.
They're dipped and greasy,
From a gluttony treated.
And...
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy fingers licked...
Are slowly from us fading.
And those lips smacked,
Are begging for the buffet.
But a gluttony once loved...
Is slowly from us fading away.
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
Dipped and greasy,
Are those days licked...
Fading away!
They once were licked with ease,
But those fingers have no buffet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I was a kid, we never heard of smog, ozone depletion, acid rain, green house gasses.
quote by Dennis Weaver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Falstaff: By the Lord, a buck-basket! rammed me in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, greasy napkins; that, Master Brook, there was the rankest compound of villanous smell that ever offended nostril.
line from The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act III, Scene 5 by William Shakespeare (1602)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Whenever I'm In Swanston Street
So many different peoples of every different race
Whenever I'm in Swanston street I long for a quieter place
Far from the World of bustle and the noisy city street
Out there in the quiet countryside where the rill and river meet.
Whenever I'm is Swanston street I cannot feel at ease
I smell smog and pollution in the foul city breeze
The sidewalks crowded with people as they bustle to and fro
But each to their own as some might say and it happens to be so.
I am not a city type of person that sort of lifestyle would not suit me
I love the coastal countryside and the cliffs that overlook the sea
To watch the fishing gannets plunge down from a great height
With folded wings into saltwater a most amazing sight.
The city scene or city ways I never could embrace
And whenever I'm in Swanston street I feel so out of place
Many people love the city life each to their own rings true
But I'd prefer the quieter place the home of the wild roo.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Shattered windows, Colors of white
Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.
On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.
A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.
The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.
The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.
poem by Linda ErikssonBique
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God Save The South
It was a red hot night night in mobile
Sweat glistened on the reverends chin
His mohair suit was shinin
He told us all about sin
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
Across the street in the pool hall
Bubba put the eight ball down
Its a high five celebration
They passed the jack around
Its wall to wall in wall street
Were livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Shut your mouth
Some long haired boys with guitars
Playin behind the chicken wire
Theyre goin up to new york city
Gonna sing about atlantas fire
It could be wall to wall in wall street
We could be livin hand to mouth
Jesus loved a yankee
But God saved the south
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
So,yankee boy shut your mouth
And God saved the south
Yankee boy shut your mouth
Yes, God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
God saved the south
So, yankee boy shut your mouth
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Canopy Of Sea-gull
The sea-gull floating
Over the blue surface of sea
That weave with unending waves
A beautiful attire for the shore
To be worn by him
When he tie the knot
With the sea whom he kisses
With unabated passion!
The sea-gull is frightened
To see the dark cloud canopy
Over the roaring ocean
Urging her to seek a canopy
For her to escape from the lashing
Monsoon that showered incessantly.
The sea-gull flapped
Its wet wings to raise
From the loved wave bed
Of the sea that fed
That soothes her with wind
With the music on full moon
At the peak of the tides
That come mid-noon
To rouse the passion of the ocean!
The sea-gull left
To the shore arranged
With arrayed Chinese nets
That raise its head by poles
Invoking hope to the sea-gull
To perch on a pole
Of a Chinese net
To have a safe shelter
From the rain violated sea
And from the monsoon ravaged sea
The sea-gull with no canopy
Sat on the pole with a rain bath
That she welcomed with screams.
But a gun targeting her
From the anchored ship
Made a deafening sound
That peeped through the rain wall
And hit the heart
Of the sea-gull
With a bullet flushed
By the trigger of the barrel
Of an unknown hunter
Sat on the back of the vessel
Who freed the soul of sea-gull
That moved to the eternal canopy.
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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Suffocation
Suffocation
The smoke of unknown origin
By fast but slow speed
Rampageously traversed
Across the heart of the city
Diffused people’s mouth, nose and throat
Straight into the lungs
Forced to surrender
Agonistic
In order to resist
The irresistible
Smoke and noise
The heart of the city
Abandoned in the restlessly
Polluted
Tumor of smell and noise
Pus
Metrorrhagia
Sinking the city
Migrate the people
Collapsed the sky
The black teardrops
Down along the wall
poem by Catherine Yen
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Ambition
The trouble with the greasy pole is this,
its slippage demands, you stand,
on someone elses shoulder,
for balance,
and tightly must you hold
the ankles above and maybe the shoes.
The one above too does the same.
The position is precarious,
should slippage come, and grip
slip,
and then like Icarus
you slide.
The pole is not so good,
it is a greasy pole.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
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Sunjuice
What happens when the juice of the sun
drenches you
with its lemony tang, its tart sweetness
& your whole body stings with singing
so that your toes sing to your mouth
& your navel whistles to your breasts
& your breasts wave to everyone
as you walk down the summer street?
What will you do
when nothing will do
but to throw your arms around trees
& men
& greet every woman as sister
& to run naked in the spray of the fire hydrants
with children of assorted colors?
Will you cover your drenched skin
with woolen clothes?
Will you wear a diaper of herringbone tweed?
Will you piece together a shroud of figleaves
& lecture at the University
on the Lives of the Major Poets,
the History of Despair in Art?
poem by Erica Jong
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Israel's capital will never again be a divided city, a city with a wall at its center, a city in which two flags fly. This city, will, in its entirety, absorb immigrants, welcome pilgrims and be the eternal capital of Israel forever.
quote by Yitzhak Shamir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Leave This City
This is the city to walk around in the rain
Staring at the barges in the harbor
And to hum songs through the night.
The city has countless streets
Bustling with people running around...
The waitress who brings me my tea every evening
And whom I like a lot although she's a White Russian
Is in this city.
The old pianist who turns around
To look at me
When he sneaks in pieces by Schumann and Brahms
While playing waltzes and foxtrot
Is also in this city.
The ferry boats that caryy passengers
To the village where I was born are in this city.
So are my memories,
All those I love,
And the graves of my loved ones.
This is the city where I have a job,
Where I earn my bread money.
And yet, in spite of all this,
This is the same city I'm leaving
Because of a woman
In another city.
poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
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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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Astonishing Forest
Where the house filled with living
The house continuously giving
Where the house filled with nature
The house filled with adventure
Anything can survive
With the nature it provides
Where the house filled with grass
The house filled with hedges, bushes and plants
Canopy trees be it rain or shine
Will be there for you at any time
Where the green house filled with fresh air
Will shelter you in the heavy rain
O the house of beauty
O the house of sound
So much variety is yet to be found
poem by Sehar Zaman
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What's for lunch?
It's ten past noon,
he lays there on his couch.
Watching television,
empty stomached.
It's thursday afternoon,
six thousand kilometers away.
She sits by her toy rock,
starved, and dehydrated.
He picks up the remote,
changes channel.
His stomach gently grumbles,
What's for lunch? he wonders.
Temperature rises past thirty-five
She fiddles with the dirt.
Her stomach endlessly roars
What's for lunch? she dreams.
Thrity minutes later
the doorbell rings.
He picks up his twenty
and pays the delivery man.
Sixty seconds later,
a beetle crawls by
she springs to her feet.
and thanks her lord
He wipes his greasy mouth
on his sleeve
and leaves his unfinished grub
and falls asleep.
She enjoys her lunch
but feels very weak.
sick and tired
she falls asleep
Two hours later
he is awakened by thunder.
throws out his leftovers
and begins to read the news.
Two minutes later
she is drenched by rain,
she looks at the sky
and opens her mouth with a smile.
He puts down the paper,
and finally gets up
to cook his next meal.
What's in the fridge? He thinks.
She shivers in the rain,
orphan, and deseased
she walks towards some foiliage.
I am safer now. She hopes.
He ends his meal,
and leaves his house.
Climbs into his truck
and drives off to a bar.
Now the rain has stopped,
she prays and kisses her rock
and falls asleep.
wet, frail, poor, hungry.
Midnight, he arrives
back to his cozy home,
and falls asleep.
Warm, wealthy, happy, full.
Nothing awakes her,
her stomach painfully growls.
She takes one last breath,
but too weak for one more.
The alarm clock awakes him
It's nearly eleven,
getting out of bed he wonders
what's for lunch?
Written to raise awareness of the causes of starvation around the world, and how priviledged some countries are. This inequality should not exist.
poem by Roger Naya
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For The Sake Of Progress
We wander down the paths,
we used so long ago, when we were young,
before the world we now know.
Down the country lanes, shaded and narrow,
by fields of wheat and marrow.
By sunlight, by moonlight, we lazed on our way.
Passed the green lands we did not stray.
Years have descended on us and our pleasures there,
it made a waste land of our garden fair.
Air is more darker.
Factories belch smoke here and there.
No more the soft white clouds, or birds on the wing.
Just black pools of floating fish,
while greasy faces smirk.
The green of fields are replaced,
for the green greed of crispy notes.
No longer postcard pictures,
but sewers up turned towards the sky.
The faces are not happy, their scorn is waste and wild.
Another of natures landmarks, scared black every row.
For the sake of progress,
or at least they tell us so.
2 June 1981
poem by David Harris
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Wall Street
On the wall of Facebook of uncertainty
your blog is written-
A Street that swirls to Capitalism.
What to occupy?
Anarchy, Crash, War, or a History?
JP Morgan, Daniel Drew, Jay Gould or the WTO?
Prairie farmers, urban workers middle sizes traders
denounced 'Money Trust';
ultimately trusted money.
Progressive Reformers charged the 'Devil Fish'
degrading democracy;
finally joined to loot the other people's money.
Working -class socialists welcomed the money street
as a transit route toward collective ownership;
now distrusted.
It is not a Chinese wall-street
that encircled the capital
It is an American firewall that
engulfed the world in Seattle.
War came war went Wall Street is high
Capital comes Capital goes
No one can still occupy.
Because Money is Honey, Money is moral
Money can not die
Protest comes and protest goes
Wall Street erects high.
poem by Vidyut Chakraborty
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Urban slum
City shame in murky water
The swimming pigs ready for slaughter
Foul is the air that kissed my nose
When i compare with the smell of rose
I wonder if the fish will call it home
And choose its shores to prey and roam
The earth around is not even forgiven
Where city souls erk out their living
Dogs and goats are friends
And rats take cats out for a dance
Imagine mosquitoes, imagine life
Green with envy, full of strife
I watch them in filt and dreary scene
'What a life' was all i could imagine! !
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
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Naked City
All the victims have turned to stone, no one is happy, theyre all alone
Id sacrifice my social position tonight
In new york, millionaires, and lonely people with lonely stares
Im not lookin for love and Im lost in this night
In the naked city (in the city) there are ten million stories (naked city)
Im not lookin for pity (in the city) in this naked city (naked city)
Street vampires in the night, young lovers and love at first sight
This is my flesh and my fantasy
Older women with younger men, Ive got a feelin Im in trouble again
But Ive got to live my destiny
In the naked city (in the city) its a race with the devil (naked city)
All the pain and the sorrow (in the city) is there more tomorrow (naked city)
In the naked, naked city (in the city) naked city
Lonely people lookin for someone, lonely people goin their way
Lonely people lookin for something, lonely people goin their way
In new york, millionaires, lonely people with lonely stares
Im not lookin for love and Im lost in this night
In the naked city, there are ten million stories
Im not lookin for pity in this naked city
In the naked, naked city (in the city), its a race with the devil (naked city)
All the pain and the sorrow (in the city) is there more tomorrow (naked city)
(in the city, naked city) (repeats out)
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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