This is Delhi
A mega urban forest
abode of two billion
amused
mesmerised
restless
ru thless
insensitive, impatient people
a hapless metropolis
where everything is purchased
-air, water, relationship
a city -unintelligently expanding
where forcefully pasted
artificially prepared
green patches create awe
where no one hears
alhaa, birhaa, holee
or chirpy birds
music and dance are on rent in discos
where whispering
scheming
slowly moving necks
cooing pigeons
millions of pigeons
looking like animated corpse-zombies
holding chains
in bus
metro trains
- an endless caravan of zombies
living on credit cards
and the city thriving on loans
- heat wave from Rajasthan
cold wave from Himachal
and much more-
refugees from Pakistan
Labourers from Bihar and UP
standing crop of agents and brokers
this is the city
which is called Delhi
poem by by unknown author
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The City is Short Today
The city is short today
and it can’t be anymore
than just a few blocks wide today
and the city is grey today,
grey and cold
and the city is short today
the skyscrapers,
only a few inches tall now,
sway back and forth,
caught in the grasp of a
sharp, cutting wind,
the sky scrapers rankle me today
and the city is short today
and the people walk about today
like zombies,
tiny zombies,
their faces and clothes
lack any colour,
and they resemble ants,
they wait on the street corner,
waiting for a miniscule bus
to take them out of this
tiny city
and the city is short today,
and grey
and cold
and small,
so very small
and yet, it towers over me.
Copyright (C) MMIV (2004)
poem by Derek R. Audette
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When the rest of nature comes to me
Late in the afternoon each bright weaver gambols
when the evening star shines blue-white,
each pretty butterfly flutters around
when wild pigeons land on the ground;
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.
Through the trees the wind is a whispering,
when birds call in the silver twilight,
when the sun disappears, red behind the hillocks,
when stars appear with lights that wink,
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.
Far away guinea fowls are calling,
preoccupied I sit peaceful on the porch,
see in the distance city lights shining
when the bats cavort to and thro,
I am astonished in the restless city
when the rest of nature comes to me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Paradise: Prison
This city's still standing
But I can't see why
All this chaos and Sin
We're burning alive
Unknown unto others
We are all locked in chains
With this city still burning
We must be insane
The chaos still growing
We're stoking the flames
We're like logs stashed for later
We have already been maimed
Awaiting our number
Watching the marquee scroll
We watch it like zombies
Unresolved yet still controlled
But we can brake free
From these chains forged by man
We can free all the others
And together we'll stand
For this city still stands
We'll watch it burn down
This city will fall
It will burn to the ground
poem by Zach Howard
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City Pigeons
Around my boots where I am sitting crumbs of bread they happily eat
The cheeky and colourful City pigeons so at home on the city street
Their cousins the rock pigeons of the Northlands in Town would feel so out of place
They once were the very same species though now quite a different race.
Introduced by humans to cities all around the World in busy towns they feel at home
Beyond the borders of suburbia the city pigeons seldom do roam
They build their flimsy nests of sticks on building ledges their young they hatch out in the Spring
Like their ancestors on trees they do not roost or nest Nature is such a wonderful thing.
Some people they like and feed the city pigeons whilst others do not like them at all
Though Nature cares for all of her children from the very great to the small
And wild-born things can be so adaptable in noisy environments they they've learned to dwell
The city pigeons of this one example in cities they do very well.
By the street seat around my boots they eat bread crumbs like house sparrows they are almost tame
They were born and raised in the city to be good at surviving their one claim to fame
Liked by some and disliked by others but that they are good at surviving none can deny
They are born and raised in the noisy city and in the city they do die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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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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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 Metaphor Of The Pigeons Cooing
pigeons live inside the ceiling
taking the entrance at the broken side of the gutter
i can hear them coo
some eggs hatch and some fledglings
are cooing
one day i have not heard of them anymore
and the rats are singing
like pigeons cooing
these rats wanting to get attention
tomorrow i will take away the gutter
so the pigeons will know that we are missing them
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Swans and Chimney Stacks
Only in Dublin
would two swans
crossing the docks
greet you in March
Light reflecting
refracting the image
of urban life
and city living
hazy sun and
smokey stacks
a tall ship mast
and two wild swans
Welcome to my city
cosmopolitan
21st century
metropolis
Welcome to my city
Viking terrority
mystical land
mysterious port.
poem by Geraldine Moorkens Byrne
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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
Mumbai
They call it a city that never sleeps,
Dreams at large; everything in heaps
Buzzing all the time, different people different cons,
It got its roses and it got its thorns.
City of murmuring traffic and twinkling cars
The multi-millionaires, the movie stars.
We’ve got it all;
The vada-pav and the dance bars,
Crowded local trains, almost on time,
Spirit of its passengers always sublime
City where honesty is rewarded,
But bravery is crime.
Success and failure are in twilight,
City where changes happen overnight
You might be swept if caught off sight,
Got lucky, then you be on a flight
Multi-lingual, multi-religious,
City of unusual weather,
I wouldn’t be wrong; if I say,
It’s a city where country comes together,
Every city has its ups and downs and she is no different.
She gives me an identity and makes me proud.
City where I was born and city where I want to die,
My city! My Mumbai
poem by Fahim Sayed
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London city you claims your right
London city you claims your right
The moving city, days and nights.
it seem no one can sit still
but some do settles
Shifting and moving one place to another
Amazingly there not many Londoner,
Living in London
Widely proclaims by foreign
from every corner earth
We not invading city,
cos this the only city in the world
You can claims your right
Whom you are
Living city of the United Nation
London
poem by See Fee Lee
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4. 'BLACK Day for the PINK CITY Stained RED..13th May 2008
[IT IS NOT A POEM]
[To all my POET READERS ]
My beautiful PINK CITY is tainted RED today
Six or more Serial Bomb Blast ripped through the heart of the city
Ruining the peace of the Historically Royal town
The heritage now turned in a graveyard.
JAIPUR the capital city of the most peaceful state Rajasthan in INDIA
Became the target of terrorism tolling many innocent lives
The growing Metropolis became the playground of evil forces
My heart broke to watch the heart rendering visuals of the remnants.
I want the support of all my poet readers to condemn this inhuman act
And wish that no evil force should succeed in its aim.
Although I am safe with my family but do not know of so many
All those who are killed or injured were the residents of my city.
GOD have mercy and give courage to the families and the citizens to bear this hour of grief.
Abha Sharma, JAIPUR [ Rajasthan], INDIA [13th may 2008,10: 30 pm].
poem by by unknown author
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These Zombies Are Free
Once I realized seeking understanding...
Was fruitless.
From those who abused common sense.
I did not look for it from them anymore!
I knew early in that search...
I was trying to find an oasis in Death Valley!
One might exist.
But why risk my life trying to find it?
It's better to go to New York City...
If one expects to witness bright lights!
And if anyone desires to be frightened by zombies...
They do not have to pay to see them!
I know exactly where they can go.
These zombies are free!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The City Down There
When I drive home from work,
on the perimeter of the hill where I live,
and will forever,
I look to the right
at the city over there, and then
to the left, toward home;
my thoughts scale the incline
before I do.
Living above the city
seems more important than it did
when pretty girls and the swirls
of crowds aroused me, sustained me.
Urban persuasions undulate down there—
music, cafes, dance—romance. Up there,
only the dahlias are dancing,
the only diva the sparrow,
the day ends at 10 PM not 2.
Up there
the exuberance is defined
in the breeze. The air
above the city ignites,
like colliding weather fronts,
as the spirit of the city
waves goodbye
while I motor on up the hill.
poem by Sonny Rainshine
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City
Living in tenements
surrounded by stone
Living in cities,
never alone.
Bodies moving,
never standing still.
A pace of living
that peace can't fill.
Shuttered in brownstones,
escaping the poor,
must face them eventually
when leaving their door.
For out in the cement
the faces are there
of each city dweller
that breathes dusty air.
Neons flashing
all through the night,
Never quite absent
from their sight.
Garrish, not soothing
reminders each day
that even at night
they don't go away.
Dog-walkers walking,
drug dealers stalking
smells of the city
never take pity
on the homeless sleeping
on sidewalk grates
while high-tech money men
await their fates.
Entombed in tunnels
like zombies in motion,
faces on subways,
devoid of emotion
doomed to ride
under streets of cement
return at night
to their tenement.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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New Orleans is a city whose basic industry is the service industry. That's why it makes its money. That's - it brings people to the city. People come to the city and experience the wonders of this extraordinary city and everything else. The question is that, how do we create jobs which are the jobs that have pay, that - living wages?
quote by Danny Glover
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pigeons Cooing When They Do
Pigeons cooing when they do,
A cooing begun.
As they strut after flying...
Or sit and stare with a sitting done.
They seem to fly around in packs,
To peck and pick in shifts.
Until someone begins to eat,
A delicious 'anything' pigeons seek...
With probing beaks.
Then other pigeons dropp in flocks,
From places suspicious.
While peacocking around,
Scouting out for something dished.
Like some popcorn or peanuts.
Or crumbs from crackers and/or bread.
To feed in a cooing...
As if a drooling done is did.
They seem to fly around in packs,
To peck and pick in shifts.
Until someone begins to eat,
A delicious 'anything' pigeons seek...
With probing beaks.
Pigeons cooing when they do,
A cooing begun.
As they strut after flying...
Or sit and stare with a sitting done.
Then other pigeons dropp in flocks,
From places suspicious.
While peacocking around,
Scouting out for something dished.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Capital City
Nerve and nerve
This coastline swerves
To a city that they live on
I walk on by
Animals cry
To a city that they live on
To a city that they walk on
To a city that they live on
Pulse feel pulse
This train is late
I hesitate
To a city that they live on
Dance the dance of violence
To a city that they live on
To a city that they crawl on
To a city that they live on
Pulse feel pulse
City that they live on
Feel
To a city that they crawl on
To a city live on
Feel
City that they crawl on
Lyrics : j kerr music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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