Love Poems About City or City Love Poems

City love poems and/or love poems about City. Read, share, and enjoy these City love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: august, beautiful, beauty, care, city, dark, dream, farewell, first love, for her, friend, friendship, girl, girlfriend, how i feel, i love you, lost, night, poems, poetry, summer,

I dreamed a dream of You

Yesterday I dreamed a dream,
that had no end.
You in your white gown, and long, black hair flowing.
You were calling my name.
I heard you, but I couldn't reach you!

And when I say your soul was tainted.
You went out in the night life.
You dressed in your black, evening ball gown.
You danced till the Red Sun came out, over the horizon.

You smiled at me.
A flame in my heart burned red hot!
My knees and hands shook with nerves;
Nerves of love and joy.
I blew you a kiss,
but you turned away!
Oh, please don't turn away from me,
for I would die, if it happened again!

Your beautiful and golden heart showed me the truth.
The truth that every gentleman wants to hear.
I've seen you walk the streets,
in the blue dawn of August.
As I followed you, you stopped and looked at me.
You smiled so beautifully, and my heart fluttered into oblivion!

You walked with your friends and I went my way.
I couldn't find a single trace of you that day.
I cried out "Why did I leave her like this?!"
I looked for you, all over the courtyards and town squares!
Yet no sight of your beauty.
..No sight of your golden heart, that I hold so dear to mine.
Where did you go?
Why did you leave?
Why did I leave..that is the question!

I should have stayed by your side,
till the ends of time.

Yet I had left.
Why...?

One gloomy and parish midnight.
I came along a road,
and soon found myself in front of a wayward cafe.
Smiling faces all around me.
I spotted a beautiful face that outstood all the other faces around me.
It was yours.

Your face brought me to sanity and I went over too you!
You spotted me and tried to run!
I caught you in the dirty hallway and pulled you in.

Our eyes met and I fell in love once again.
Sanity re-entered my mind, body and soul.
I kissed you and you kissed back.
You held my hand, and we left the cafe and walked down the street.

The street was gloomy, yet we together brightened the dark street.
We went back to the lit up city streets, of the lands filled with smiling faces,
and we fell in love and slept together.

You lay there in my restless arms and I gave you a sweet kiss,
upon your sweet and soft head.
Your dark hair was sweet smelling and felt of silk.
I closed my eyes and fell asleep with you,
there in my arms and we dreamed together
till the morning came and woke me up,
and took you away from my weak and weary arms.

I dreamed a dream of you.


Poem Details | by craig schaber |
Categories: art, happiness, health, hope, life, loss, lost love, love, peace, people

LIGHTS OF THE CITY

Lights of the city far away they look so prettyAs I get closer your lights seem warm and 
bright as I search all through the nightBut right next to you you’re not as warm as I had 
dreamedI should never have traveled so far now all I want is to go back and just see you 
from afarYour lights how pretty they are.


Poem Details | by Ravindra K Kapoor |
Categories: epicfather, city, father, freedom, hindi, love, poetry,

Patradoot or The Messenger 29 /Many


Patradoot or The Messenger29 /Many 
  
English version by  Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father DrAmar Nath Kapoor


These young boys and girls,  were brought up,  
By their parents, with great love and affection, 
Now they are mad, in love for their motherland,
To show the splendors of their youthful energy.

They are ready even to sacrifice their heads,
What to say of body pains and tortures inflicted on them, 
By seeing such fearlessness and energy of their youth,
Even the enemy gets ashamed of, dear letter.

Triloki was one of these young boys, 
Who happily took bullets on his chest, dear letter,
And kept on moving ahead without withdrawing,
Keeping the dignity of our nation and Satyagraha.

DESCRIPTION OF MY CITY ALLAHABAD

You will find my beautiful city Allahabad,* 
In an ecstasy and full of rapture, flowing in it’s air,
When you will move on its roads and streets,
Along with the Postman, dear letter.

Ravindra

Kanpur India 12th August 2010                        to continue in 30

Clarifications:

* Allahabad		Also know as Prayag or Triveni is the most ancient city
                                    of India, where river Ganga and Yamuna now meets at
                                    the holy place called Sangam.


Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
DrAmar Nath Kapoor around  1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long timeThe Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad JailHe was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma GandhiHe was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi DrAmar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epicsAll his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990
He left this mortal world in 1994















  




Poem Details | by janet muthoni |
Categories: beauty, city, farewell, i love you, image, mentor,

my country kenya

                      What a harmonious land it is, 
                       Full of integrated citizens,
                       Peace and unity all over,
                       Always emerging at the top,
                       What a blessed country it is?

                       Some say you are my motherland,
                       But fatherland likewise you are,
                       You give one peace and comfort,
                       How graceful i adore you,
                       For being my mentor.

                        If only i had one word to say,
                        Or one drop of ink remaining,
                        Or even only one line vacant,
                        I would proudly say that,
                        I love you!


Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: beauty, city, dance, dark, farewell, first love, flower, for her, garden, girl, girlfriend, giving, goodbye, hair, happiness, happy, how i feel, i love you, joy, kiss, love, nice, night, poems, poetry, red, sky, summer, truth, wisdom, woman,

Goodnight my Fair Maiden

Goodnight my Fair Maiden,
I shall see you once again.
In the year of our Lord,
At the gloomy dawn of Mankind.
As the Red Sun reaches over the treeline,
Far in the East.
I shall see you again.

Don't fear our love,
For my love for you is eternal.
Too see this eternal love
I have for you,
It is hard to feel and very diffcult to see.

When you wake the next morning
and escape your long night of slumber
and your surrealist life,
being played in a cloud of imagination.
You'll soon come to reality 
and find me there.
Knocking upon your chamber door.

Come now!
Get dressed in your evening, silk dress.
and let us go dance under the stars,
till the moon falls to the West and the Sun rises in the East.
Oh, how you are a lovely dancer and how the twilight shines bright
along you shinny and silk laced hair.

And your hair my sweet and fair maiden,
oh, how I love to see it bounce with life
when you twirl and dance into my arms.

You are beautiful and I wish I couldn't leave you,
but as the day turns to night, I have to leave.
I wish I could take you on a long walk through the parks
and courtyards, and walk along the sprinkled streets of the cities filled with life.
Pick you a beautiful bouquet of roses from the gardens of beauty and give them to you
with surprise.

I love you so much
My love for you is indeed hard to tell to you,
but I can show you.
Tomorrow though, for tonight I must say...
Goodnight my Fair Maiden.
For tomorrow you'll be in my arms once again.

Goodnight my Fair Maiden
I shall leave you with a kiss that shall last a lifetime.


Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: absence, america, art, books, business, celebration, celebrity, christmas, city, culture, dedication, depression, family, farewell, farm, feelings, film, freedom, goodbye, growing up, history, home, house, i love you, image, life, lost, money, music, native american, new york, paradise, patriotic, people, places, political, pride, today, tribute, truth, usa, world,

young American days


              
                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
          
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
 
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 
               

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 

                   

         
  


Poem Details | by Kevin C. Martin |
Categories: bible, christian, city, courage, faith, god, hope, inspiration, inspirational, jesus, journey, joy, life, love, pain, peace, prayer, religion, religious, spiritual, uplifting, urban, youth,

The Corner of Madison and Huron

At the corner of Madison and Huron,
The faint pedestrian appears.
A couple holding hands walking swiftly
As police pass near.
Cane in his hands
Walks a younger looking man,
Rolling his suitcase along
A central corner in a downtown city
Where faith, hope, and love belong.
May God bless you Toledo,
Today and forevermore.


Poem Details | by DAVID ELLSWORTH |
Categories: lonely, lost love, nostalgia, city, me,

The city

It is a city with its lurid lights lavishing upon the night

Products hawked in gaudy neon

Street lamps form uniform circles upon the pavement

And traffic signals repeat themselves across the landscape

A man with flat eyes pulls a blanket about him 

And clutches his dog, he puts his shoes beside him

As if remembering when he had a bed

Whores mingle by the fire plug and eye the traffic

Their dignity sold by the hour 

And I walk there toward the same places

As every night

 

Jimmy told me that you came to the café

Even though you asked him to say nothing of your visit

He said you sat at our table and read a book

He took your order of a coffee and asked about me

And he said you looked very sad in that moment and shrugged

And so each night I walk past the café windows

Peering in like a street urchin and praying

To see your face or that you will look up to see mine

But you are not there

And the excitement of hope drains from me like wet ashes

 

I go to StJoseph’s in the village 

And sit in the dark corner below the choir loft

Hoping you will come as we did each Sunday

But you do not You do not come

And I am happy to be in church

To pray for you, that blessings fill your days

And that I might be one of them

Then it is the garish flat where we knew love

To sit by the window and watch the night

Gather in the city like a troubled infant

And to dream of a soft knock at the door

And for our love to come home


Poem Details | by Sidney Beck |
Categories: loss, love, mysterywedding, city, love, river, wedding,

THE LEGEND OF CELINE, THE WHITE LADY

THE LEGEND OF CELINE,  THE  WHITE  LADY


In French Canada  no legend is more tragic than that of Celine, 
A beautiful Quebec maiden who, long  ago, fell in love with Alain
He  came galloping by on his white horse,  a handsome young marine -
They wanted marriage and  happily prepared their wedding plan.

They would go to the church  in a horse-drawn  carriage 
They would buy the  tidal watermill near their house by the river 
Next to  Montmorency Falls : a small whitewashed cottage
With garden and daisy flowers;  and he would become the  miller.

But one day Francois was  called to military action in a war terrible-
Every evening, pallid and wan,  she searched by the river  for her lover in vain.
Her beloved lost his life in battle, and Celine's bridal grief was inconsolable
“Alain,”  she called, convinced in her heart that they would meet again

After a year Celine could stand her  painful  loss no  more - the searching, the calls
One ashen moonlit night,  in her immaculate  pearl-blossom wedding  gown
She ran to the river, climbed onto the white horses of the misty Montmorency Falls
And disappeared  into mystery, as the swirling  ivory-silver waves swept down.

Calling his name, she slipped into the foamflowers Her snowy bride’s dress 
Was transformed into the falls’ watery cascade, and her long wedding-veil floated away
And became  a smaller waterfall nearby,   as she  swooned in the mist’s caress,
Listening  to  the soft loving words  she heard  Alain say          

On moonlit evenings  the  maiden  in white  is still seen through the misty cloud
Of shimmering water cascading like daisy petals off the falls in their course:     
They say that his name can be heard in the surf and spume  of the torrent loud  
“Alain,  my life-love,  wait for me on your white horse.”
……………………………

NOTE:   
This is a well-known legend about the tragic love  story of the White Lady of Montmorency
FallsThe waterfalls ( Les Chutes de Montmorency) are located between Quebec City and Ile
d'Orleans, on the StLawrence RiverThese spectacular foamy falls are well worth a
visit Their height is 50% greater than Niagara; and the nearby ancient city of Quebec is
unique in North America.


Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: beach, body, care, city, drink, earth, fire, first love, for her, girl, girlfriend, hair, happiness, happy, hero, how i feel, i love you, image, joy, kiss, loneliness, lonely, longing, lost love, love, night, paradise, places, poems, poetry, romance, romantic, soldier, summer, woman, write,

My Persian Queen

From the Gardens of Babylon,
to the walkways of Palestina,
to the grand temples of Jerusalism,
to the sandy beaches of Syria and Cyprus.
Went my Persian Queen riding,
upon her golden, firery chariot.

Her black hair, like silk long and flowing.
Her royal robes white and purple, bare and pure.
Her sword by her side, ready to strike.
Her spear fastened, ready to stab the dreeded heart
of the Fire Dragon.
On the firery chariot, riding with her armies,
Went my Perisan Queen.

O, how my arimes fight your armies,
in the midst of night fall, under a full moon.
Let us stop this foolish fighting.
And have fellow brother, love fellow brother.
And so we can fall in love forever.

And don't act like you don't show love for me.
I see you in the dawns, standing upon the sand covered battlefields.
Standing proud behind your armies.
With your black hair flowing.
You almost making me want not to fight the battle of the Day,
for if you were killed, what victory would that be then?

You pull your armies back at the last minute, before I am slayed
by your fellow brother in arms.
You retreat your arimes back over the hills, not in fear of losing the day,
but in fear of losing me.
You and your armies had plenty of chances to kill me, yet you do not.

My Persian Queen, O come now.
Come down from your firery chariot
and into my restless arms.
I know you are tired
and wanting to sleep.

Listen to the nightingale
sing her love song.
Drinking the sweet necture,
from the gardens, in your vase Persian Empire.

Come now, and kiss me,
Hold me, let us ride,
far from the simple minds of the Old World
and fall in love in a New.

My Persian Queen
O how I love you so much.
I cannot bare to see you in a life you don't want to live.
Come let I, your Knight in shinning armour liberate you.
Take you by the hand, run through the great bazzare in Old Istanbul
running away from the Janissaries of your father's Imperial armies.

Let us leave this place of hate and sorrow.
To start our lives a new.
My Persian Queen,
Now dressed in silk lace,
with golden jewlery hanging
from your beautiful and tender neck.
Along with the silver pattened belt around your harmonial waist.

It is time for you, to come with me.
No more shall we act like we dispise one another.
As Romeo and Juliet's love failed,
shall our love take course, and we shall love
till the oceans swallow the earth, the mountains crumble,
and the Sun engulf the sweet Earth.
And on and on shall our love go on,
My adorable and lovely Persian Queen.


Poem Details | by Madhavi Sarjare pagare |
Categories: adventure, angel, anger, anniversary, beautiful, best friend, body, candy, career, caregiving, celebration, city, community, crazy, creation, dark, dedication, depression, desire, devotion, emotions, feelings, fire, first love, for him, hope, how i feel, humor, i love you, inspiration, journey,

First Crush: You Crushed My feelings forever

For the boy who had gone through his first crush. wrote by Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare

 First Crush: Crushed My feelings forever!!

Her epitome of innocence and virtue made me sick.
Friend around me suddenly pricked.
Scene from the titanic in my mind clicked.
I lost somewhere else and she squandered the opportunity.
Crazy girl, You clinged my heart!!

She was suffice so as I.
Looking at her radiant smile, I was blessed.
My feelings blushed on my cheeks.
God had postulated the first law of love.
Was it the infatuation?? Was it the love??
Crazy girl, Your face is glued on my heart!!

Blue whales diving down deep into the sea.
Molluscan shell in her arms, holding the glittering pearl.
Sun and moon playing the game of hide and seek.
God showered the ecstatic divineness.
Love arised from both the ends
Her expression occupied the quadrangle of my soul.
Crazy girl, Your adorable persona sticked on my mind!!

My friends tagged her as my Queen.
But it was just a mystery.
I waited till last..
But She didn't rebelled the three precious words.
Desperately waited for the moment.
But When i saw her with his boyfriend.
Crazy girl, You killed my heart!!

Getting goosebumps,
Just left tears in my eyes.
Each and every memories of mine are fragmentized.
Just left with the ashes of moments that we shared together.
Life just can't stop without being you.
But you are the luckiest one to be remembered for life time.
Crazy girl,My crush,You crushed my soul!!  with Suyog Pagare


Poem Details | by Andrea Rose |
Categories: america, beach, beautiful, beauty, blue, city, earth, environment, feelings, fishing, freedom, fun, happy, how i feel, july, june, life, love, muse, ocean, peace, places, summer, sun, travel, uplifting, wind, world,

Home is Where the Ocean Is

Summer is here once again.
The breeze is warm,
I smell salt on the wind.
The same sandy beach between my toes,
The same waters I learned to swim.
Sun burn on my nose,
To the Ocean I dive in.
I submerse myself in the waters of the Atlantic
Warmer than the West Coast Thankfully
Cold, I simply cannot handle it!
Further out I paddle faithfully,
For my mother ocean to keep me sane,
this is my therapy,
to soothe this migraine.
This place gives me energy,
a weakness with a name.
Pleasure Island, NC.
A place hidden with fortunes
and undiscovered fame.
Never could I stray from the ocean
my passions would never be fulfilled
and I would never be the same.


Dedicated to my Dad on Father's Day 2013
The man who introduced me to the ocean and educated me about it and gave me reason to love appreciate and respect it.


Poem Details | by A.O. Taner |
Categories: beautiful, betrayal, blessing, cheer up, city, confidence, cute love, deep, desire, earth, england, environment, feelings, garden, green, happiness, happy, i love you, imagination, irony, joy, july, june, london, love, love hurts, meaningful, missing you, nature, nice, nostalgia, passion, places, relationship, romance, romantic, sad love, seasons, simple, solitude, spiritual, spring, summer, true love, uplifting, vacation, weather, wisdom,

Jump

Chairs lined with stripes, 
green and white,
became ski jump ramps
for feelings, innocent and pure,
taking off from the edge
hoping to defy the gravity of fears

Only a lucky few made it,
others turned into tears
landing on the grass of Green Park
as the warm air was getting dark.
 



Poem Details | by Adrienne Gresham |
Categories: adventure, girlfriend-boyfriend, happiness, love,

Big And Carrie sex and the city

No matter who he would marry, his heart belonged to Carrie
Her romance with Aiden could'nt keep them apart
Big already had her heart
It was almost like a forbidden love
The kind one tries to rid themselves of
Their love stood through the test of time
Lingering on in the backs of their minds
The love was so strong, they couldn't ignore
They came together on the penhouse floor
One more hurdle they must get over
He only wanted her, his friend, his lover
He lost his nerve at the thought of the crowd
The girls took the honeymoon, as they enjoyed it out loud
Big knew for months what he must do
get to that courthouse and say I do.


Adrienne LGresham
Soul Mates
Big and Carrie  sex and the city


Poem Details | by ahmed khidr |
Categories: devotion, nostalgia, me, city, love, me, time,

My village

My Village

When I live in the city
I always say what a pity.

When l live on the farm
I always say what a charm.

On the farm, I feel smiling spring.
Green lands, sweet swallows do sing.

In the city, noisy claxons of cars do flare.
Deafening ears, filling me with killing care.

Men, in the city are sophisticated.
With stories so dull and fabricated.

In the village, they are innocent
Honest, humble, true and decent.

Women, in the city, usurp men
With artificial faces and false skin.

In my village, people are meek
Brave, generous and never weak.

They host, they give, waiting no take
The thing they ever do is for god’s sake.

Life, there, gave me strength and zeal
Denying hatred, malice and raw deal.

I feel I am when I am there
Breathing the real pure air

Among trees, I feel clement clime
Wishing dearly if I could stop time

Every thing, in the village guides me to God.
The water, the air, the dust and even the mud.

Nothing in the village can destroy
My happiness, my pleasure and my real joy.

Blessed is my village, in it was I born.
My memories are kept in field of corn.

Spreading trees with cool shade and murmuring rose
Refresh me , relieve my nerves ,and help me repose

There, I feel my mind is so vacant.
‘Cause noise is asleep and distant.

When I am far far away, I feel I don’t belong.
My love for my village, in my heart, is strong.

On its fertile earth so much did I play
With my comrades with its fertile clay.

We built houses and made a scare crow
Around which our true love used to grow.

We ran, we fellYet we had no pain.
We built cottages in time of rain.

Our bed was the earth, our cover was the sky.
We used to play tricks that were surely so sly

Our laughs were loud, our thoughts were so clear.
We did great feats that were too much to bear.

There stands childhood, in the meadow, incarnated.
So telling, so expressive, with its luster, so slated.

You aren’t you, someone else you are.
Said my childhood while being too far.

Forgot your village orchard? How oblivious!
City –life changed you? You are credulous.

I am still me , never changed , never tempted
Bearing sympathy over wings so unlimited
No, my childhood, I am still pure
I am far far away from city allure.

You are ever kept in my loving heart
In that beautiful, unforgettable part.


By ahmed Mohamed khidr
Teacher of English
Egypt / Tanta / Kotour / Kotour secondary School.


Poem Details | by Literrius Miller |
Categories: love, me, me, boy,

Given and Recieved Love, City Boy meets Country Girl

Give me your life And i'll write it down, Show me the country, and I'll take you to town, Give me your love and i'll give you my heart give me a promise and we'll never part.


Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: abuse, age, beautiful, blue, city, crazy, cry, dark, evil, goodbye, horror, how i feel, london, lost, miss you, missing, missing you, night, poverty, power, psychological, relationship, romance, romantic, sad, sad love, sick, sin, stress, suicide, summer, sun, water, woman, world, write, writing,

Can you feel me

Feel me standing there
on the draw bridge
that stands stubburn and erect
over the rushing waters blown by the wind
back and forth.
I listened to the crows
posted on gargoils designed
of eightenth century Gothic architecture
singing their death songs,
when the sun is setting in the far.

The voices of women passing
startle me with a feeling of sorrow
I can't breathe, I am dying.
Feel me, can you feel me rot away?
Slowly but surely rot away
as time passes with ease,
and taxi cabs take smiling, intoxicated faces
to wayward cafes, oh how they screech to a halting stop
and wave to me to get in.

"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I say to the smiling faces
highly intoxicated with the thought of the birds and the bees
rattling around in their empty minds.
Then they drive off, into the city lights and turn a darkened corner.
I look at the rushing water
and feel myself rot away
slowly but surely rot away.

Can you feel me?
Can you hear me?
Can you see me?
Feel my heart thump with slow paces
that manage to keep up with fast melodies.
Of songs that play in your mind
only the ones that make you sigh
and think those one days in Spring time
as you walked over the draw bridge
and paid no mind to the water underneth.
I hear no more talk of you and me, I hear no more talk
of the good old times we all shared.
Time has passed, as I take my last breathe
and hold my chest and shead a tear.
Feel me, can you?
If you can, put your hand to my weak heart 
and feel it thump away with every second wasted
on useless items.
Now, see me a man of one time greatness
reflect his life with a reflection in the water below.
How I sigh and cry and breath heavely,
as I feel myself rot away.

The voices of woman pass me by.
Tomorrow is a new day,
for the smiling faces in taxi cabs will go home
and soak their raging hangovers with cool, wet rags.
As I still stand on the draw bridge singing with the crows,
feeling myself rot away.

Can you feel me without you, rotting away?
I surely can feel myself rot.
Such a heavy word, "rot"
So vulgare, yet a great description of me,
without you.

I pull out a shawl you once wore and I kiss it.
As the wind gusts and the sun rises and my shadow
comes to meet me, the wind shall take my last memory
of you away.
And I shall weep no more.
Then what will I do? Shall I walk the streets
and think of you.
Yes you, still rambling all throughout my head
like a lose screw.
Can you feel me? Feel me rot away
feel me think about you, and all your works.
Can you feel me?


Poem Details | by Robert Ronnow |
Categories: city, love, ocean, philosophy, prayer, sexy, water,

To Have Loved Mary

Today is Sunday and I'm going to the ocean
or maybe notDefinitely not doing the laundry
or maybe I willMoss and even a small tree
grow in the rotten stubs of the pier pilings.
The city is Seattle and it has a macho airport.

Give me the comfort of a moose knowing its
water supplyThe mosquito's acceptance of its position
among a million mosquitoesThe pool of stagnant
water that remains one with the mothering ocean.
I drift on the air, less than a seed, a bacteria.

Or I am human, big dick, big brain containing
universal philosophic affidavitPleased by
the churning of my tongue, sexual enlightenment, 
devout prayer, gourmet diningI swear
it is best to be alive and to have loved Mary.






Poem Details | by Paul Callus |
Categories: romance,

In the City of Love

indecision
by Eiffel Tower
shall I take lift or stairs

sipping coffee
off the beaten track
why does it taste better

on bench, relaxed
relishing the peace
can idling be a sin

fantasy shared
padlocks on a bridge
is love for ever more

pleasantly lost 
in city side streets 
do we need find the way 

an evening stroll
lovers by the Seine
who knows where it will end

soaking in her
nocturnal beauty
how can I resist her

lingering thoughts
when it's time to leave
how soon can we return


--------------------------------
Contest: Questionku Two
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Placed 1st


Poem Details | by Diane M Quinlan |
Categories: adventure, candy, childhood, city, fear, first love, freedom, growing up, happiness,

MEMOIRS OF BEING A CHILD AT HOME

Submitted for contest:  A Child's Home
 adventure, candy, childhood, city, fear, first love, freedom,
Memoirs Of Being A Child At Home





Memoirs Of Being A Child At Home


I was brought home to a red brick apartment 
I remember traffic sounds with a lot of honking
And my first smell of morning coffee brewing 
Surprising me that others lived in my house too
Going to a city pre-kindergarten was an adventure
Learning to sing three blind mice and all the fun painting
I would love to go back to that all over again.
We walked on sidewalks round the block
And huge city parades brought great masses of watchers
There was a mid-city park where the yearly carnival set down
And the smell of French fries  candy floss and dust is a memory

My best recollection is when I lived in the country
The first time walking in the woods where I picked wild flowers
And feeling free with no fear of fast cars running me over
Going to school on a green military buss until High School
Going swimming in the river we could walk to through back wood-paths
And swimming in a sucker-hole where mighty rapids swirled which was out-of-bounds
Trying not to fall in when climbing over huge boulders was a great thrill at age 10

I can see myself standing on the hill overlooking tiny floating islands 
And behind there were mountains green with many tall pines; far as you could see
Those trees were a sharp contrast when set against the snow of wintertime
But no matter what the season change brought on; Autumn was its showcase
I remember tobogganing behind our house where below was a deep meadow 
And the day when I took my first date tobogganing; my first year in senior high 
Unknowing that since last on the hill; there were basements dug and waited hidden
That I remember because I sprained my ankle falling in and landing on my date
I remember blueberry picking and fitting through a wire fence to pick bigger berries  
They were fat and juicy and in abundance due to the fact they were out of reach
Oh to be that small again and to feel free as a bird and a part of the countryside
I remember the fall I said goodbye sitting down under a great pine we swung to
It provided great shade for many summers sits after enjoying our river swims 
Mixed feelings were about me; sad to leave as memories flooded along with my tears
And they fell into the flowing river below causing little plops to form many rings
But my feelings to leaving was more anxiety felt; to think of living on my own 
And I alone was returning to the big city life 'a home away from home’.




Poem Details | by MaryEllen Gozzo |
Categories: feelings, future, love, relationship,

The City Mouse and The Country Mouse

I feel like I’ve known you so long 
And I feel like I could tell you anything 
But there is one thing I cannot say to you 
That I want you, need you, love you 
We talk and I laugh and smile 
But deep down inside, 
Bubbling to the surface 
There are words at the back of my throat 
Dying to get out 
That though I know we both have our flaws
And imperfections, I know our hands would fit 
Perfectly together and I have a feeling 
You can dance really well 
And that you’d be one of the few 
That I can really be me around 
“But every time I tried to tell you 
The words just came out wrong”
And our pasts just don’t permit us 
To be together anyway 
Not that I had a chance to be 
Worthy of all that you have to offer 
Because you’re a Harvard man 
And I’m a small town girl 
And I know you don’t feel that way 
But I don’t belong in your world 
Of aristocrats and dinner parties 
And politicians and expensive suits 
I know where I belong 
I belong with someone 
Who is a bit more like me 
But I can’t help who I love
It happens automatically  
Not that you love me anyway 
It was just a thought 
That money doesn’t matter 
But my love is not to be bought


Poem Details | by A.O. Taner |
Categories: anger, angst, anxiety, betrayal, city, conflict, cool, crazy, death, depression, dream, freedom, grief, growing up, heartbroken, how i feel, imagination, lost love, love hurts, metaphor, philosophy, romance, sad, satire, self, senses, sensual, suicide, symbolism, wife,

Bed

A white ceiling, 
a dull life.
A wife?
No, just a knife -
that's all I need.


Poem Details | by Tony Bush |
Categories: death, life, sad, social, , sweet love,

Dodge City

I arrest in the road and think this is the town
Where the tumbleweed girls bowl around and around,
I freeze in the park and think this is the town
Where the seeds of sweet love die cold in the ground.
I lean on the bridge and think this is the place
Where the eyes of dead fish stare up into space,
I lie in the church and think this is the place,
Where evangelist devils preach sin and disgrace.

I trip in the road and think this is the street
Where the black heart of Judas continues to beat,
I step on the cracks and think this is the street
Where the march of the butchers cut life in retreat,
I bow in the street and think this is the road
Where messiahs and villains on wild horses rode,
I cry in the street and think this is the road
Home to the homeless of no fixed abode.

I climb on the rail and think this is the town
Where the plasterboard ceilings came tumbling down,
I halt at each stoop and think this is the town
Where the lost were last seen and will never be found,
I stare at the ditch and think this is the hole
With depth deep enough to eat every last soul,
I weep in the glass and think this is the hole
Wherein nights never end, filled with sulphur and coal.

I stalk down the hill and think this is the city
Where never was mercy and never was pity,
I glance at the graves and think this is the city
The realm of a cut and paste lynch-mob committee,
I bullet the gun for whatever befalls
As jukeboxes blast in the rooms with no walls,
It’s the law of the gun for whatever befalls,
To kill all that draws breath, or walks or crawls


Poem Details | by Sidney Beck |
Categories: city, love,

BRIEF ROMANCE

BRIEF  ROMANCE


Fell for a Scottish girl long ago Pretty as a picture,  but
Heart  as cold as an empty Edinburgh street  on a wet
January Monday morning, when the chiseled 
Craigleith sandstone blackened by smoke 
Repels  the rain from the Forth,
And the steep roofs pour 
Water into the runnels
Down the cobbled 
Streets.


Poem Details | by Mike Butler |
Categories: love, passion, romancered, red, sky,

The City That I Love

I decided to drive through the city today 
Instead of the freeway And,

I still remember when we first met 
It was like receiving my little red bike under the tree
so long agoThe excitement of something so new, 
so shiny I was just so impatient to take you out 
and tour your beautiful boulevards, striving to
explore every block of you—one by one.
You were a skyscraper that reached so high 
that you ripped the very fabric of my sky 
and spilled fortunate stars like 
glitter on my existence
The rain never cameAnd, I felt it never could
I would just hold you like a crane—breathless
All those delirious nights that lasted ‘til dawn 
And the laughter, think back how we laughed, 
out loud, that it would echo through the alleys 
and above to places the pavement couldn’t reach 
My mouth got wet with just a whisper 
of your name on my breathAnd I gorged, 
oh how I gorged at the restaurants of
your soul until there was no room left and 
I was ripe and plump for the picking 
All the boroughs of you,  
I thought, would never stop growing.

Now, the constant sun (that used to be there) 
can barely break the fog from your buildings and
beyondWhen did your sky turn into a sponge of 
liquid silt that I squeezed and squished
over my head—constantly?  It feels like I never
have an umbrella anymoreThe roads got 
rougher and the cracks grew into fissures 
in need of desperate repairSome, 
beyond repair Where did it all go?
Time can be so careless and relentless 
You have been torn down and rebuilt 
in my mind, many, many times
to unrecognizable sizes
It all just got confusing and crowded, right? 
We saw all the signs and signals
steering us in the wrong direction.
But, we journeyed on,
slowly—never surely 
The whole thing, everything, now,
just looks like the homeless from the 
thoughtlessness and neglect of it all 
It was just red light after red light.

I saw our favorite restaurant, 
still standing on our favorite corner 
And at that moment, I remembered, how much

I still love you.


Poem Details | by Matthew Anish |
Categories: heart, love, urban,

Heart of the City

    In a thousand city 
rooms 
    lovers caress each 
other 
   On the streets 
auto lights are reflected 
in pools of rainwater 
Trucks hurtle by 
   carrying needed goods 
to businesses 
Policeman gaze 
  at the city scene 
with wary eyes 
   As the rainfall ends 
pedestrians close their 
   umbrellas 
A young woman walks down 
   a crowded avenue 
turning heads with her pretty 
   face and fine figure 
Skyscrapers rise up 
   and challenge the sky 
City of a million dreams! 
Don't forsake your inhabitants!
Let them live between your towers, 
    find peace in city streets 
and even taste urban love in the 
   heart of the metropolis!


Poem Details | by Funom Makama |
Categories: birth, birthday, blessing, celebration, child, cute love, my child,

A Galant City Unmatches Your Greatness

You are extreme in beauty perfected by builders who constructed all your planking with pine trees from Ivory coast and made a mast for you out of the combined crafts from brown ebony and snake wood Out of the oaks from Bashan your Oars are made and from the cypress wood of Cyprus your decks crafted and inlaid with ivory. Your awning of blue and purple fabric are from Egypt and the inhabitants of America would be your rowers. These rowers will bring you unto the high seas you’ll become full and heavily loaded in its heart the countryside shakes at the sound of your sailor’s cries and all those who handle an oar will disembark from their ships The whole of Europe is your trading partner in choice garments, Cloaks of blue and embroidered materials and multicolored carperts which are bound and secured with cords in your market place. Your deals encompasses constant exchanges of turquoise, Corals, rubies, wheat from minnith, white whool, wrought Iron, Cassia and aromatic cane. Costal lines are your trading gardens and Roman ships will be the carriers of your goods. Your captains are your wise men and your wise men are the elders of Spain and Portugal who take charge in repairing your leaks. Your skyline will shade the sun and your islands, enrich the oceans you’ll be the wealthiest in culture and diversity because of your traders and visitors trooping from all corners of the Earth. Come forth now and prosper for greatness and fortune await your enrichment.


Poem Details | by A.O. Taner |
Categories: anxiety, appreciation, art, beautiful, celebration, celebrity, city, confidence, courage, creation, culture, destiny, dream, emotions, feelings, firework, first love, girlfriend, good night, hair, happy, humanity, imagination, international, jealousy, joy, love, metaphor, miss you, missing you, music, parody, poems, relationship, romance, romantic, stress, success, symbolism, today, tribute, true love, uplifting, world,

Dream

in the dream I had 
many appeared
extras plenty
but loved ones too

all had seen
that same dream
but only one got it
others had no clue


Poem Details | by Robert Ronnow |
Categories: beauty, city, love, rose, sun, today, yellow,

A Yellow Rose

I am thinking of the day
                  I came to you
                                  with a yellow rose

a passing businessman
                  said hello to you
                                  you put it in your hair

today is like that day
                  the sun is hot
                                  on a crowded city

we are discovering each other
                  anew
                                  in the crowd


Poem Details | by James Fraser |
Categories: beauty, love, people, places, poets, relationship, vacation,

Walled City

into culture walk we, amidst her history smiling faces grin .