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Zywa Apr 5
Cities put their faith

in citizens, villages --


put their faith in god.
Novel "The Moor's Last Sigh" (1995, Salman Rushdie), chapter A house divided, (1-) 4

Collection "Low gear"
(you sweet..  succulent,
                       tender  little ****..)



"I don't know what to keep
and what to throw away, Paul"


"All of it, young love..   none of it..
I mean wait..     what?"


"All's I'm saying  is..
I can finally see myself  in the
reflection, now that the mirror's
wiped clean. Problem is..  I can only
hold on to it for so long before it all
completely goes away again..

    the image of me, I mean"


"Ah. young Lovely..
the insurgent is embedded   far too
deeply  into the City  called,

'All of who it is that you are'
To engage it or try to take it out right now
is  going to create far too much
collateral damage"


"Then what am I to do..
how am I going to be able to hold on?"


"I have an idea, young love..
       Shhh..  listen--"


👀

https://youtu.be/7hiVIixor_Q




  "I have a  feeling
we're in Kansas anymore, Paul.."


****** right we're not, sweet one   :))
❤❤❤

xox
calypso Feb 2022
from my new york window,
i can see tall structures,
see snowfall upon green rust,
tiny ants move busily on jobs,
with their lives, missing rides,
all of this from a glass wall.

from my new york window,
i can find peace.
if it means staring at life moving,
playing a one-person game

is new york always this quiet at night,
the stars not shining as bright?
does their light not burn through dark stone?
or bring out the best in all?
new york, new york
where are you?
where are your wonderful parties?
where have you been?

from my new york window,
i can tell its faint outside
where are your constellations?
they used to move around your city
i miss when they were nebulas
just starting to explore the world
i was never like a ball of fire
so eager to be thriving
so ready to leave being an atom,
joining molecules, being compounds

new york, do you miss me?
do you remember our memories?
of us in the snow, looking above, making angels,
talking about how life would never be enough?
new york, don't you remember,
you and i being friends, singing together?
new york, you don't remember me
because i was never there,
i have never been to your magnificent city.
you are for all the big lights, the huge suns
i was never made to be a fireball,
never so much one to live a free life
new york, don't miss me
I'm not worthy of being so precious like your sky.
i never was, i never will.
new york, my best wishes to you,
don't forget me,
when you don't know me well.
in the third stanza, im talking about new york during the pandemic.
Norman Crane Aug 2021
sweet birdsong consumes
the bitterness of cities
a summer morning
Mark Toney May 2021
concrete jungle heat
suffocating cityscape
~ bare feet loving grass






Mark Toney © 2021
Poetry form: Haiku - Mark Toney © 2021
Leone Lamp May 2021
Stop, Drop, Rock n' Roll!
We built this city on cruise control!
It started with a seed and grew into a jungle
Where people grumble and boxcars rumble
It's growing up! It's growing out!
So honk those horns! And curse and shout!
**** these newfangled roundabouts!
There's a new billboard on every corner
Just signs and symptoms of the greater disorder
The cancerous urge to keep growing and growing
It will be too late when it finally starts slowing
So get outside! It's time to start mowing!
Before our urban yards start showing
Their wild side.
"Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell" -Doc Sarvis (Edward Abbey)

~2018
nmo Feb 2021
the cities
redraw their borders and
fragment their spaces
into small cubes:
apartments,
studios,
and duplex houses.
and you,
with a thousand windows open
in windows,
your emoji hands,
and your microphone muted.
Moe Feb 2021
I am tiny and idle
I wonder curious at heart
I hear clanking of eyes
I see untold murders
I want to expand the voice
I am soul and dented

I pretend
I feel
I touch
I worry
I cry
I am

I understand
I say
I dream
I try
I hope
I am...
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