"zurich" poems
Zinging the zen-zone I was in
A zany request zig-zagged my way.
Princess Zinnia from the Zuider-Zee
Required a zippy line or two
To paint the zeitgeist of our times.
With the strength of a Zamboni-
With the power of a Zeus-
And an uncommon zeal I set out
To zap the doubt that slowed me.
With the flair of a Florenz Ziegfeld
And his zoftig choir of beauties,
I morphed into a zealot
Gamboling in the zephyrs
That wafted in from Zurich and Zaire,
Not to mention Zanzibar.
I felt like a Zacharias
When my zealous work went bust.
The writing turned into a zonk-
The accolades were zilch.
I felt like I’d been zippered up
Like a zebra in a zoo.
I lost my zest for going on
And slopped around in old Zoris,
Listening to zydeco’s beat
And feeling like a zit.
But then the Zodiac-
My zinging-singing sign
Came to my rescue
And I was marching off to Zion.
I was one wowie-zowie-zucchini
As I zipped across the pages
And zoomed from one idea
To an even zippier one.
So here, Sunprincess, is your verse
I’ve used up every letter zee
And gone from very bad to worse
But of this challenge, I am free.
ljm
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
Boston Sydney Oslo London Berlin Montreal Ibiza Stockholm Lisbon Dublin....where are you?..Chicago Madrid Turin Liverpool....I need you home!....Tokyo India Rio Helsinki Milan Botswana....please come home....Gibraltar Alice Springs Zurich Tel Aviv St Helier Jerusalem....I really miss you x
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 7:50 AM UTC
from the precipice there i sat i stared
at all the earth's truths laid bare
laid bare there the naked truth
no beautiful siren of delphi
no open **** no wound
no one to tell you where to put it
or pare down complicated lies
like train bar cars in
cold swiss mountain
moonlight
falling off the stool forgetting now where
'near zurich' (bar car bartender)
'perhaps sir has had enough'
tell 'got a good handle on it'
handle being 60 ounces
fade to blackout
80 proof
****
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
I thought of you in Paris
and remembered
you in Zurich
I was reminded of
you in Moscow
and I could not forget
you in Cancun
My memories were of you when I went back
to New Orleans
and Tampa Bay
I continue thinking of you
in Dallas and LA.
-R.
(16)
-LA
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 9:41 PM UTC
I'm 26
Just the ******* children of economic hitmen
Will we have the strength not to give in
Now that we are apart
My blood
My oldest friend
Brother I've missed those songs for too long Again
Ill watch you walk
I'm 31
I don't know you now
Your disposition is stagnant
you don't inspire me
You chose the road
I stayed in one town to reevaluate my perspective and create new seasons inside of me
Another year gone
We hardly talk
My suitcase packed
Ill be in Zurich soon
But first ill look to you in the bay
No matter what you say
You are the other half of the moon
Meet me in the city.
Ethiopian food on Haight.
Amoeba records
Your finger tips feathered from the cold.
Hurry up.
We are getting old.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
Oh destino el de Borges,
haber navegado por los diversos mares del mundo
o por el único y solitario mar de nombres diversos,
haber sido una parte de Edimburgo, de Zurich, de las dos Córdobas,
de Colombia y de Texas,
haber regresado, al cabo de cambiantes generaciones,
a las antiguas tierras de su estirpe,
a Andalucía, a Portugal y a aquellos condados
donde el sajón guerreó con el danés y mezclaron sus sangres,
haber errado por el rojo y tranquilo laberinto de Londres,
haber envejecido en tantos espejos,
haber buscado en vano la mirada de mármol de las estatuas,
haber examinado litografías, enciclopedias, atlas,
haber visto las cosas que ven los hombres,
la muerte, el torpe amanecer, la llanura
y las delicadas estrellas,
y no haber visto nada o casi nada
sino el rostro de una muchacha de Buenos Aires,
un rostro que no quiere que lo recuerde.
Oh destino de Borges,
tal vez no más extraño que el tuyo.
919
In Montenegro
today grow
Swiss in
diplomacy as
a filibuster
in adria
nigh in
Azerbaijan why
join forces
with The
Antilles with
Turks and
Caicos shan't
delight in
Zurich yet
once again
there's Aleppo.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 3:43 PM UTC
In 1915, aged thirty-six, Einstein was living in war-torn Berlin, while his estranged wife, Mileva, and their two sons, Hans Albert Einstein and Eduard “Tete” Einstein, lived in comparatively safe Vienna. On November 4th that year he wrote a letter to his 11 year-old son Hans Albert which reads as follows:-
My dear Albert,
Yesterday I received your dear letter and was very happy with it. I was already afraid you wouldn't write to me at all any more. You told me when I was in Zurich, that it is awkward for you when I come to Zurich. Therefore I think it is better if we get together in a different place, where nobody will interfere with our comfort. I will in any case urge that each year we spend a whole month together, so that you see that you have a father who is fond of you and who loves you. You can also learn many good and beautiful things from me, something another cannot as easily offer you. What I have achieved through such a lot of strenuous work shall not only be there for strangers but especially for my own boys. These days I have completed one of the most beautiful works of my life, when you are bigger, I will tell you about it.
I am very pleased that you find joy with the piano. This and carpentry are in my opinion for your age the best pursuits, better even than school. Because those are things which fit a young person such as you very well. Mainly play the things on the piano which please you, even if the teacher does not assign those. That is the way to learn the most, that when you are doing something with such enjoyment that you don’t notice that the time passes. I am sometimes so wrapped up in my work that I forget about the noon meal. . . .
Be with Tete
Kissed by your Papa
Regards to Mama.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 3:28 AM UTC
Did you think the same as me
that the night would come and
swallow us and did it come, was it that that followed us through bombed out streets
and
alleyways where the children knelt at mothers graves and prayed
to a god that had forsaken them?
was the god of love the only true love, hard love, the take away you knew love,
who did die, who, and watch the children cry?
I die each time, all the time when fine men
in their fine and fancy lives accumulate another strike to strike against the unprepared
and I share their pain,
against all the odds which have been fixed by the gnomes in Zurich and they picked me to
rant and rave about the lack of humanity,
and profanity like chords of music drip from me, a dirge, a surge to
take my mind away from the alleyway, a balm to soothe my soul when the
whole world falls apart when the smart but so unsmart bomb falls.
Hear them cry?
I do
and die
a little more.
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
It was nostalgic while landing in early October at Zurich airport,
After twenty years, the revisit meant I could have something new to report,
It's always exciting to be back in Switzerland,
A country so picturesque that you are tempted to call it Wonderland
As always the people are so helpful and friendly,
The sense of camaraderie makes you feel warm inwardly,
Cheese, chocolates and banking system make it a country of great repute,
And these are well known facts that do not merit any dispute
Swiss precision clocks are world renown,
It is something the Swiss take pride as being their very own,
This can be seen in all aspects of their everyday life,
Their work-life balance is admirable being almost devoid of strife
The Swiss Rail system is always viewed with a sense of awe,
Vindicated by our own experience of what we saw,
A lot has been invested to ensure seamless journeys for the commuter,
With no room for disgruntlement that one may even attempt to mutter
Train travel between cities is such a pleasure,
While enjoying the scenic landscape in no small measure,
The hip-hop commute feature at stations of your choice is pure fun and joy,
That people of all ages just want to experience and enjoy
The stunning beauty of the Alps is such a visual splendor,
All that one can do is to stare and wonder,
Seemingly stretching to eternity are the snow clad mountainous peaks,
One succumbs to the temptation to take out the easel and paint, making little attempt to speak
When you think of cheese, Swiss is foremost in your mind,
The several hundred variety of Swiss cheese just blows your mind,
Almost half the Swiss milk produced gets converted to cheese,
But still one does not even wish to say "no more, please!"
Ah, the mention of Swiss chocolates brings out the inevitable smile,
You just wish to savor the taste even if it means walking a mile,
Many recipes are traditional though the taste is still unique,
Made mostly by hand - surprisingly, still a basic technique
A recommended must-have tourist experience is travel in the Glacier Express,
As the train chugs along the mountainous track, a whole lot of emotions is what one is tempted to express,
So breathtakingly beautiful is the endless luscious green landscape,
That memories continue to linger long after, from which there is no escape
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC