Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
dedpoetPoems
I say the heart of the city lives, In her I will never die, The dream of a carpenter builds Merging with hopes That I have for her:     Free I write my poetical Amongst the flowers and demons,          The nonturnes of my heart And the dawn of my fires, Tell me the Alamo will be remembered, Her beauty like a sword Making my words bleed,         I am my city. Dream of the desolates From my cursed youth and poor Words, the poet in my rich in life           My city is me. The prostituted poor like an addict Blowing a flute, A cold stare, no food, no remorse, The floor of anguish, a passionate girl.          We are one. I am the streets, Among the thieves and thugs Who like you have dreams, Among the rust and damp wooded Homes, into the parks of my city, Where Spanish missions still Pray over the people,      My church, My heart, My city full of dreamers.
0
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 3:58 PM UTC
Dream Unto My City
I say the heart of the city lives, In her I will never die, The dream of a carpenter builds Merging with hopes That I have for her:     Free I write my poetical Amongst the flowers and demons,          The nonturnes of my heart And the dawn of my fires, Tell me the Alamo will be remembered, Her beauty like a sword Making my words bleed,         I am my city. Dream of the desolates From my cursed youth and poor Words, the poet in my rich in life           My city is me. The prostituted poor like an addict Blowing a flute, A cold stare, no food, no remorse, The floor of anguish, a passionate girl.          We are one. I am the streets, Among the thieves and thugs Who like you have dreams, Among the rust and damp wooded Homes, into the parks of my city, Where Spanish missions still Pray over the people,      My church, My heart, My city full of dreamers.
For San Anto
#dedpoet
dedpoet
Written by
dedpoet
38/M
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 3:58 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem