#metropolis
We shall echo the points that scrape the skies
Above the streams of Wonder City.
On the streets below, men shift through time,
Watched on by soaring concrete.
In the steaming sewers strewn beneath
These streets— O Wonder City!—
Rats shall run the labyrinth of the sewers
To find the traces of a world
Before the steam of Wonder City.
Oct 13, 2022
Oct 13, 2022 at 11:02 AM UTC
I sit in complete silence for a moment
Not of the world but to myself
My glasses closed up on a table
Looking up to a world of blurry
Lights that are still and moving
Lights that are as bright as the stars
Eye of the day, eyeing me down
Metropolis of eyeing lights
I should feel a familiar feeling
A welcome home to the old and known
A welcome to a world I've bid farewell
From which I've turned and taken my leave
I am trapped by skyscraping bars
I am scrutinized like a labrat
Harsh and cold white billboard lights
The microscopic bend of mall mirrors
The overbearing heat of the sun
Oppressive heat, foot on my back
I lie exposed to the elements
A sun kept alive by artificiality
Jul 21, 2022
Jul 21, 2022 at 3:49 AM UTC
It started with a hello and ends with too much love that does still overflow.
we drove around our city while I had my arm around him.
and the sticky august air glued his skin to his shirt and him to my heart.
our metropolis had a hundred dusty stars above us; beside us; but mostly these stars were within me.
he was unaware of it all. But I, with overflowing courage did tell him.
and when i told him,
I understood that this simple love
cocooning me;
that glowed
like a hundred suns;
that made him the Sun;
was felt from me to him -
and me
to him
only.
Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 8:23 AM UTC
Beautiful downtown Atlanta
Sunny, blue, cloudless sky
Tall, wide, massive buildings
Window glass glistening in the sun
Beautiful, well-dressed people
Gainfully employed people
Taking care of business people
Running essential errands
Contributing to the community
Pursuing positive, purposeful lives.
I take in the sights, sounds, smells
Sounds of people walking, talking
Engines revving and car horns
Smells of restaurants and fast food vendors
Engine exhaust and overheated brakes
The feel of the sidewalk
Under my expensive dress shoes
The heat of the sun on my face and neck
The exciting hustle and bustle
Of a thriving metropolis.
A faint “Please, sir. . .” reaches my ears
And a homeless man appears
***** disheveled, hirsute
“Please, sir. Could you. . .”
His weak speech trails off
As I divert my eyes, quicken my pace
Ignoring his petty pleas
As he disappears in my wake
Bothersome soul, good riddance
Why doesn’t the city do something?
Days later the encounter haunts me
I was so proud of the way I handled myself
How easy it was to dismiss a soul in need
Months later the encounter haunts me
Instead of the clever human
I had become cruel, inhuman
Unfeeling, unkind, uncaring
Years later the encounter still haunts me
Never will it ever happen again
Never. . . ever.
Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 9:46 PM UTC
There's a storm coming.
Within hours, its arrival will go unannounced
But the few who are destined for the change
Can feel it brewing just under the surface
Between the quiet conversations
A constant hum, a reminder of the forgotten
Continues to pulse through the veins
Silence, floating above the metropolis
Ready to blanket the movement in a suffocating still
The forces of the unknown act swiftly, careful in its oblivion
Truth be told, there is some quality to having something to hold on to.
Something to tether you back to reality,
It gives you assurance that this life is more than just a simulation
Hope of the possibility to slowly pass through the barren wastelands of this
Technological underdevelopment.
The world has seemingly lost its value
Let the storm wipe out what is left of this society.
The few who were meant to be will remain.
I'm ready for the shift for nothing to be the same.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 7:12 AM UTC
A city is nothing but a menagerie
caging different shades of insanity
dusty streets, concrete tombs, lingerie
costumes shooting up profanity
Here I stand
no shade of dignity
*** of cash in hand
shaded with apathy
Things I do with these creatures
in the concealing night
a spoon and a woman, double feature
finished and feeling contrite
Cross the bridge to leave the zoo
back to my normal life
conscience I must subdue
while I lay down next to my wife
I am sorry
I just miss the thrill
I am sorry
I just miss the feel
I am sorry
I just miss the comforts of the landfill
and the parroting comatose safaris
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
Metropolitans **** sensitivity
Cold concrete we stomp with our feet
Glare a path straight above you
Disregard the eyes that surround you
Keep moving and pushing through the pain
We're so hardened we don't even feel the wetness of the rain
We can't AFFORD to feel
There's no time to even feel real
An emotionless society
We drown our sorrows away
**** sobriety
Numb us whole
Our hearts hollow and dark,
just like a hole
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 11:58 PM UTC
A rude dawn over the city
Where Pepys once fought with his beautiful wife
After seducing whatever servant-girl chanced
To be around, where kings
First ruled from cold castles full of cockroaches,
Murderous cousins
Lurking through the baleful halls of history
Eyeing the empty throne. The stinking
River long shorn of fish sweeps elegantly before
The crimson petticoats of multiple ******
Promenading along Thames Street,
Winking at under-washed gallants.
Vauxhall gardens a pithy cavalcade of priests and doxies,
Of flower girls, flaxen haired girls selling fruit,
Anxious to reach home before the ****** hour of early
Evening when beaus gather in alley ways establishing
A testosterone gauntlet in the dust-spawned gloom.
The road to Tyburn is littered with lost hopes!
On hanging day bodies swung like debutantes dancing
To jazz tunes-
Aristocrats quartered with precision squealed like common folk,
Bleeding as much. The city watched all this
And didn’t murmur-never complained-
Smiled, as only a city can smile, at gin-drunk matrons, pie eating aldermen
And the ****** activity in street shadows by relieved young women on
VE day 1945.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
---
dead upon dead
to the left and the right
no fire to warm us
no more spark
no more light
the even' has come
the desert dry night
the only thing living
is the burgeoning kite
the only ruler
is a king with no crown
the lowly court jester
wears a red mask'd frown
some courtiers have starv'd
some courtiers have drowned
but as for the people
there's no one around
pile upon pile
of mouldering bones
some make up spires
some make up thrones
femurs the mortar
skulls are the stones
some lattice triangles
some steepled in cones
if you're in this city
you're truly alone
a skeleton rides
on a decaying horse
it has no conscience
it has no remorse
it needs no permission
but uses no force
where is this city?
why it's
YOUR TOWN Of COURSE.
soulsurvivor
(c) 6/3/2015
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 4:10 PM UTC
A veil has been pulled from my eyes
This place is where rainbows die
Promised land
Beautiful from afar and above
Your song pulled me in
Shipwrecked me on perfectly chiseled rock
This is where rainbows die
I see now
This place is a 100-story Zoo
Filled with sharks
Afraid that if they stand still
Just for a second
And smell the roses
They will surely die
Their sadness
Caged by concrete
Fences, locks, and labels
This is where rainbows die
Herds of one, chasing pots of gold
In all the wrong places
Can we ever hope to break the mold
Routines and purpose
A million voices crying out for connection
And no one willing to listen
Every brightly lit window a stage
Every man, woman, and child
A far-removed audience
As if color costs money
Surrounded by shades of grey
Ashen, set in rigor mortis
This is where rainbows die
So I say
Let us turn to the children
Let them
Rule our expensive city for a day
Let them
Capture a rainbow in their tiny hands
And paint the city with it
Let them show us that
Puddles are for jumping
And rain is for joyous dancing
Rise up once again
My fellow grown ups
And touch
The magic of the rainbow
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 6:42 AM UTC
What has become of us
Amidst the hustle and bustle of city life
When did evolution condone us to regress into a state
Of uncalculated caucus
As we meander our way through the rapids of life
Rapid
Is hardly a best-fit descriptor
For we are past the point of speed
We mill around like headless horses
Buzzing bees
Stinging roaches
Fallen leaves
Roaring lions
Try to lead
But fail
Like cottons fighting breeze
Is this all we are?
Is this what we were made for?
To quickly climb the climb
And await the graceless fall
Parachutes prepared for praise
But our pride prevents and prevails
Till the day I climb the ladder
Shall I not attempt to see
What the view at the top might be like
I fear it enthralls me
But then reality strikes like a maddening blaze
And suddenly I see
That I'm well on my way up the hill
As I swing from bridge to bridge
Is this the way to live?
Uncautious steps with kleptomaniac ease
As we take what we desire
From our capitalistic divider
Though we hate to be the same
Not at all do we differ
Are we not all blinded mice
With a tetra-human vice
Spiders apt at spinning lies
Banking life on Friday highs
All around me boring beasts
Lost to whims, to say the least
What I fear most is the day
I give in and join the race
Is the day I eat my heart out
Just to enjoy the highest gaze
Till then here trapped in the zoo
Enclosure encasing truth
Finding fault with every human till the day I conform too
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC