I want to talk about my city
I want to talk about my city,
Of her tired people who stride over her windy streets,
who have eyes wetter than western rains,
They work from the morning till evening
In arsenals starving for flesh and for sweats,
They walk nudes and without honor
Against vises which clasp their hearts,
I want to speak about my city,
Of these storekeepers who sell the past
To the visitors coming to plunder the rests of the wind,
Of these salesmen of roast chestnuts who the winter
Hours stay to shout in the cold wind
Cursing the anonymous glance of the passers-by,
Of these bakers raised at dawn
Who smile by selling warm croissants
To customers become foreigners of them own families,
I want to speak about my city,
Of her wild streets in the flavors of distant salts
Of her Russian, American, Indian sailors
With eyes cleansed by travels,
Of her tramps making the aumone with their mistreated dogs,
Of her playboys in short sleeves shirt who bring out their sunglasses
if the slightest beam cross the darkness of May,
I want to speak about my city,
Of her changing sky as a lost compass,
Of her beaches with the antique and pure beauty,
Of her gulls in the reassuring or irritating shouts,
Of her naval base where die too old battleships,
Copper-colored frigates by the redness of settings sun,
I want to speak about my city
As of an unspeakable torture in the other modern cities,
Of a city made ugly by the war and remorse,
A city identical to the refusal to be loved
Who cultivates its soul as a last garden
Near the gigantic ocean which invites itself in her fate…
poem by John Rolland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
High In The City
I got the time, I got my feet
Lets go hit the street
High in the city
High in the city
I got my mace and you got your knife
You gotta protect your own life
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive here in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
Lets not walk down sutton place
You know everybody there got an akitas
High in the city
High in the city
Dont wanna talk politics today
I feel too good let me have my way
High in the city
High in the city
Watch out for that guy on your right
Seen him on the news last saturday night
He was high in the city
High in the city
Hey, look theyre setting fire to that jeep
Theres not much you can keep
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
So many people feeling low
And theres only one way to go to
Get high in the city
High in the city
Lets grap a pie, lets hit the park
Ill kiss and hug you till it gets dark
Here in the city
Getting high in the city
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Eternal Kansas City
Chorus (choir singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city)?
(van singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Train down to st. louis
Get me there alright
Over to the city there, you know that one
Where the farmers daughter digs the farmers son
Dig your charlie parker
Basie and young
Witherspoon and jay mcshann
They will come
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Lady liberty in waiting
You know she lights the way
Her name is billie, shes a holiday
And the city is eternal -- hey, cant you see?
Its inside of you and its inside of me
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city ?
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
Wild thing
You know the way to kansas city (choir only)
Thank you man (van)
You know the way to kansas city
Sing it (van)
You know the way to kansas city (van and choir)
Hit it (van)
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
Baby cant you sing it one time (van)
(choir)
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
You know the way to kansas city
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Compilation of Memories
Newspapers are wet
on the cold cement
in bits and pieces
they speak from under my shoes
the ink
flows into the gutter
swimming with the rain
and captured industrial smells
I love this city.
The light from storefronts
seeps out
from the windows and doors
trying to warm
the streets
spills over onto the sidewalk
makes puddles and pools
one with the water
I love this city.
The wind sings
as it blows
the cold on our faces
ice does what it is told
it hurts
and then loves
embraces us in its strong arms
but we already are free
I love this city.
The rust on the fence
smiles at me
as i silently pass by
on my way across the world
the map
in my shaking hands
is wet and smeared
but i can find my way and the rust is happy.
I love this city.
The sun comes out
slowly like she is afraid
but no one will hurt her
she is their hearts
my feet
are tired
the city’s sorrows found them
and told them how it feels
to let it all fade and die.
poem by L'Angley S Delmonte
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Hometown
Jersey City is where I was born
I woke up to see many a dawns
It's not a bad city, it was a place to live
But there were many times it didn't forgive
The streets were tough, the winter's cold
It s city you can embrace, but one you can never hold
The streets will own you and rule you
There's not too much one can do
After some years you'll be ready to leave
It will no longer have the things you need
That's when you know it's time to leave
Because in the city you can longer believe
Now people grow up there and decide to stay
But so many many more just go a different way
6-18-10/RJH
poem by Ray Hansell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
City Of Beggars
The sky is always blue in the city of beggars
There is not much green in the city of beggars
There are buildings being built so fast in the city of beggars
In every corner that you encounter
The city of beggars are growing so fast
And in the city of beggars lives 30 million people
The air is not that good in the city of beggars
Because of the factories and the cars
The city of beggars never sleep
The noise goes on 24 hours a day
It is not safe to walk in the street of beggars
Because you can get robbed and killed at any time of the night or day
The traffic is chaotic in the city of beggars
Thanks God there is no snow in the city of beggars
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In My City
In my city the sky can cry all night;
In my city the streets can whine all night;
In my city people die all the time;
In my city, boi, in my city...
In my city, boi, God is forgotten;
people follow religion, their minds are rotten.
People kill for money, die 'cause of money,
banks spend our money, and find it funny.
Kids drink till they forget, they forget till they drink;
it's Apocalypse now, we're way past the brink...
it's a theatrical city, everyone's an actor,
everyone's waitin for next great disaster.
'I would kill for a phone' ain't just an expression,
it's more of a statement - kids full of agression.
kids full of the city, like the city's full of kids,
but they're workin on it - they're killin all the kids...
In my city the sky can cry all night;
In my city the streets can whine all night;
In my city people die all the time;
In my city, boi, in my city...
I'm a Silesian boy who moved to Tottenham,
I'm a Tottenham boy who'll always love London,
I'm a London boy who's Silesia-born,
and my people will be free - so go on, sound the horn!
Exile like Chopin, likewise keeps hoping,
Exile from Home, but somehow I'm coping...
I wasn't bought or sold, jus brought and told
you're gonna study here, and live here - be bold!
so I let my heart turn cold, f- it, why care?
carin never really got us anywhere...
nothing's holdin me back, so come and hold me back,
I ain't no ref, but I change the rules like Shaq.
it's time to speak of feelin, son, you're insecure,
that's why you want the finest chic, but she ain't the cure,
you want the fastest cars, you want the longest chain,
but none of that bulls- will take away the pain...
poem by Patryk Krzywon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am Not Going To Tell You The Name Of The City
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which my steps are still searching for me.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
whose bridges are longer than life.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
under whom even the sky was like a tent.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I learned to start up a new journey as soon as I arrive.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
which is never to grow old.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I met the eyes with the color of the sky.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I was knocking on my own doors from inside.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
which was a cage far too small for my wings.
Vida Nenadic
poem by Vida Nenadic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Pretty, Pretty City
Now the city has a studded nose,
Because the city is so pretty, and the city knows:
The city, she almost fooled me underneath the
Chicken sky- The city is so pretty,
But the city lie:
I loved the city and all its vermilion moods and ice-creams,
With parks and busses and city airplanes
And city rides- City coffins and city dies;
And I watched the city get drunk and turn around
And raise its monuments and party down;
And I sat upon one of her benches in a speculating mood,
And wondered if the city was so pretty,
Why was she so rude: The vulgar nebulas of the city’s
Eyes, the narcissisms of its displays:
There are so many well suited boys better than I out walking
In their sunny city days:
And I realized, the city didn’t love me,
The city plays and paws and eats up little boys such as
Me- She said she loves her little poet boys, such as me,
But the sweet, sweet city lies,
Because the city is so pretty, studded nosed and stunning eyed,
But she uses her autumn facades to blind the autumn chicken skies-
The pretty, pretty city has me hypnotized,
But the pretty, pretty city lies.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Salisbury
In the city of Salisbury, I was born
On a cold and snowy winter's morn.
Now I am living some miles away,
But I often take a trip there for a day.
Through its streets, I love to roam;
When I am there, it feels like home.
To the City, I still feel a connection;
For the City, I still feel much affection.
I love the City's great atmosphere;
The Cathedral bells, I love to hear.
Visitors flock from both near and far;
The towering Cathedral is its big star.
I love its mixture of old and new;
I love its style; its charming views.
It isn't a city which is run of the mill;
Its character, progress, has not killed.
To that City, I will always belong.
The bond between us is still strong.
In the city of Salisbury, my life did start;
I want to rest there when, this life, I depart.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Big City Nights
Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
When the daylight is falling down into the night
And the sharks try to cut a big piece out of life
It feels alright to go out to catch an outrageous thrill
But its more like spinning wheels of fortune
Which never stand still
Big city, big city nights
You keep me burning
Big city, big city nights
When the sunlight is rising up in my eyes
And the long night has left me back at somebodys side
It feels alright for a long sweet minute like hours before
But its more like looking out for something
I cant find anymore
Big city, big city nights
You keep me burning
Big city, big city nights
Always yearning
There is no dream
That you cant make true, if youre looking for love
But theres no girl
Whos burning the ice away from my heart
Maybe tonight!
Big city, big city nights
You keep me burning
Big city, big city nights
Always yearning
Big city, big city nights
You keep me burning
Big city, big city nights
Always yearning
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
City Night
Night is lively.
Night is stunning
Night is pleasurable.
Night is sugary like apple pie.
Night is walking towards with hobo.
Night will never end.
Night is dark.
Night is now simple, sweet, calm, amusing.
I am in love with this city night.
City is covered with this pleasant night.
Night is having the shine of city.
Night is getting wilder.
Night is getting cruel.
Time will never stop running.
Night will over with the time.
Another night will come in this city.
I am waiting for the night.
Here city shed tears
Here city chuckle like a little kid.
Here city dance with the mysterious wind.
I am in love with this city night.
Night never stops coming.
Night will never break its rule.
It will come over and over in this cold blooded city.
But I will never stop loving this city night.
Night is resting.
It will come again into my little black book.
poem by Farzana Hossain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The City With Eyes
The city with eyes
Sees everything,
City with eyes
Hears everything
Feels everything
The city with eyes
Sees people living on the rough side of the streets
Sees people eating crumbs from the floor
Sees people with ripped clothes and no shoes
Watching other people wearing lubatones walking past
It cries not one but millions of tears
For them
Tears which touch every one
Which soaks everything
Rain, they call it.
The city with eyes
Watching
What has happened to my city?
It cries with sorrow
The city with eyes
Feels the sadness
Of those in need, sad, hurt, …
Watching what was happy
To what is sad know
Tropical City
Speak to me of youth, and breezes warmed by the sun
The breezes that falter down cool alleys
In the city built in the sun
Speak to me of flower vendors, and the beggar boys that run
The old ones who stagger through dusty roads
Of a city built in the sun
And I'll tell you of a hundred days when I wished all was well
Of the hours passed in fantasies
When my mind on thoughts would dwell
On greatest trains and rains and sounds of cricket games being won
of lotuses flames and evenings
In the city built in the sun
poem by Vera Sidhwa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Holy City
Holy City
We arrived here yesterday
Holy city
We sat foot here yesterday
Holy city
We felt in love with you already
Holy city
Is the city where our God was born
Holy city
Here we saw where God died in the cross with Pontius pilate
And risen from his death
Holy City
Today we end up in the Sea of Galilee
It is so good to breathe the fresh air from the Sea of Galilee
This sea is amazing
Holy city
This is a journey we will never forget in our lives
Holy city
Has been an interesting point in our lives
Holy city
Was a discovery of our roots
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
O! December
O! December,
When you come this turn again,
Bring along,
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.
Where glimmer galaxies
Of glow-worms,
Where spheres smile,
With the colours of butterflies,
Where all around lingers
Fragrance of faithfulness,
And that who feels it
With the finger-tips,
Or gets its glance
Becomes fragrance incarnated.
O! December,
When you come this turn again,
Bring along
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.
Where grains of sand
Are the stars,
Where roses and nightingales,
The months and Moon
Are metaphors of truthfulness;
Where heart is an ocean
With several banks
And where the Deity of Fate
Sparkles in the fists.
O! December,
Ask us not about
The plight our own city;
Here rests in the eyes,
The dust of passed caravans,
Love is cold like an iceberg,
And grows
In the farms of sunlight,
Here when the dawn approaches,
All visions of the night melt
In the form of a thawing heap,
Here prick in the eyes,
Bits of the broken passions,
Here we weave our dreams,
By dipping lashes
In the blood of heart,
Then we live and we die
In those dreams;
Though it is not possible
To stitch words of the ragged soul,
Yet O! December,
When you come this turn again
Bring along
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.
By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!