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New York Postcard Show by Anish, Matthew
Man from New York by Da Yah, Krisallah
A New York Rainbow by Kyrie, Jude
Stopping New York City Traffic by tor, michael
Misty Memories of a New York Youth by Anish, Matthew
The Rooftops Of New York by Leiser, Laura
Harlem New York by Mendoza, Rodney
New York City by Seale, Corenne
New York, New York by Yates, Bill

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The Best New York Poems

Details | New York Poem | |

Who's Who

Who's who in the New York Zoo? 
Said the clown with a funny face.
Many different cultures.
Within the human race.
Who's who in the New York Zoo? 
A lion, a bear, an elephant, a giraffe.
Many different animals.
All which make us laugh.
Who's who in the New York Zoo? 
A barber, a tailor, a dressmaker's store.
Many different occupations.
Make your way through the door.
A Catholic, A Christian, A Saint, and A Jew.
Many different religions.
While we feed Central Park's pigeons.
Who's who in the New York Zoo? 
Said the man with a great big shoe.
Find your subway to paridise! 

Zoo York Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2010,2014..All rights reserved

Copyright © Kim Robin Edwards

More great poems below...

Details | New York Poem | |

The High Line

Elevated railroad tracks
Abandoned long ago
Have been transformed into a place
Where grass and flowers grow.

With benches made of wood or stone
And artwork interspersed,
The desolation and despair
Have all but been reversed.

If visiting the city
Is a plan that you have made
Then walk upon the High Line
And behold what’s there displayed.	

It’s part and parcel of the town
But also quite unique
So stroll the High Line if
A New York feeling’s what you seek.

Copyright © ilene bauer

Details | New York Poem | |

Tribute to Daniel

“In this life there’s been heartache and pain”
How could I begin to find love again
Desperado walking a tightrope
I looked down and Daniel gave me hope
“The first time ever I saw your face”
Cold heart melted, longed for your embrace
Your compassion and character shone
No longer could I live all alone
“You took my love and you took it down”
Felt lighter than air with feet on the ground
A love without chains, a soul unbound
But walls closed in as I watched you drown

"In a New York minute everything can change"
Sometimes life takes twists that seem strange
A human chain was formed to find my man
Reaching up was Daniel's lifeless hand
Efforts to save, resuscitate
Proved futile to fight the hands of fate
Casket sent home, called his folks to explain
“Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane”

*Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is” 
*Roberta Flack’s “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” 
*Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide”
*Don Henley's "In a New York Minute" 
*Elton John’s “Daniel”

By Carolyn Devonshire for Tracie's "Sing a Song for Me" contest.
Dedicated to my fiancé Daniel Sammons who drowned while we were swimming in a 
lake near Tallahassee, FL.

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | New York Poem | |

The Day the Eagle Cried

We will never forget exactly where we were, 
	We will never forget exactly what we were doing, 
		We could never forget the loss we felt – 9/11/01.

We saw the birth of amazing heroes,
	We mourned with the grief of thousands,
		We marveled at the strength of the human spirit.

It was the day we held our children more closely,
	It was the day the American Family was reborn,
		And the day we became “One Nation, Under God.”

We heard those resounding words, “A plane hit the tower”,
	We watched in disbelief as the second tower fell to earth,
		And we heard the most heroic of words, “Let’s Roll!”

There were so many lessons that we learned,
	There are so many memories to be held dear,
		There was “Old Glory” – still standing to give us hope.

Firemen, Policemen, Clergy and Civilians-
	Were taken from us in a few fleeting moments,
		We saw a flight of angels, and an Eagle cry.

We became the strongest and most formidable of enemies,
	The most united in spirit and purpose in decades,
		We were filled with renewed honor and pride.

Yes, we lost the very innocence of our being,
	We lost the complacency of everyday routine,
		But yet we gained so much more.

For now we know the true meaning of so many, many words –
	“Indivisible”, “In God We Trust”, “United We Stand”
    		and the most important of all -
			“Greater Love Hath No Man Than This”…

Copyright © Meridy Petricciolli

Details | New York Poem | |

he is leaving home

                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~

           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "


Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | New York Poem | |

West is the best

Sunny, warm 
Swimming, boating, sunning
Sky, airplane, ocean, seashells
Skiing, sledding, snowball throwing
Cold, blistery
New York City

Copyright © Danitra David

Details | New York Poem | |


A llegiance to no other VICE except a NEW YORK CITY ATTITUDE
B oroughs Brooklyn, Bronx, Manhattan, Queens and Staten island, take your pick
C ity that never sleeps
D isown your chewing gum on the sidewalk
E mpire state of mind is what you develop when living in NYC
F REAKS and freedom come out at night
G et the gusto and GO!
H arlem is where you need to be when converging in NEW YORK CITY
I n New York City manners are not usually common placed
J ust watch the closing DOORS, you'll be OK
K nowing an URBAN LEGEND is a prerequisite to NYC living
L eft FOOT losers lurk around EVERY other corner
M ost New Yorkers are always rushing off to work at rush hour then rushing back home
N ightlife, NEON lights and honking horns
O nly alliances are with other NYC loving metropolitans
P olice are there to assist (unless you need assistance)
Q uietness is not an option
R ising repeatedly to early morning blaring fire engines and loud radio playing
S taten Island ferry or would you rather the Statue of Liberty?
T imes Square New year eve testimonial, NYC for real!!
U nder no circumstances are you to ever AGITATE (piss off) a NYC police officer
V ery energized New Yorkers (metropolitans) visiting Broadway
W hy does NYC have a subway system? For tourists of course!
X marks the spot, you are HERE.
Y ou a New Yorker?
Z estfully going along for the ride. TAXI!!

This hype is NYC stereotype. ONLY IN NEW YORK. NYC IS a great place to visit and maybe you'd wanna live there. You GETTIN' in that TAXI?!  New York City Baabee!!


Details | New York Poem | |

All Lives Matter

Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having 
a bad day.

Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't 
help but ask "where is humanity?"

Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.

Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.

How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
as help?

All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.

In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.

Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.

Copyright © Amber Binford

Details | New York Poem | |

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 ? 



Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | New York Poem | |

Opening Day

Bronx bound on New Jersey's Transit tracks,
Direct no stops,
Penn Stations up next,
I jumped on the "D" express to 161st,
Opening Day,
Yeah, the kid in me is filled with glee...

The Sky is Blue,
The Green Grass cut
The interlocking logo well shaped and sculpted, 
Some even despise... 

Ah the joy of opening day,
Where every team has the right,
to still hope for the epic season on this opening night,
The ceremonial first pitch,
The Cheers,
A Salute,
Play Ball,
Tomorrow is Game number 2,
The Dog days not far behind, 
Ready to bark,
But today...
Today we have our...
Opening Day! 

Copyright © Mike Liquori

Details | New York Poem | |



It was September eleventh two thousand one
A day the entire world was stunned
Two unopposed aircraft entered New York City
Leaving a trail of death without pity

Like missiles they hit the renowned Twin Towers
Reducing them to rubble in a matter of hours
The pilots who flew them had a mission to follow
Choosing to die just to please allah

They cared not a whit for the lives of others
They sought the praise of their Islamic brothers
At the cost of thousands of American lives
Their loyalty to allah became their prize

The revenge of American lives is yet unended
For fear that someone may be offended
The question is asked, what would we gain
While the blight on America still remains

Now ISIS has reared its ugly head
And two American journalists are dead
So acts of terrorism can't be denied
It began when the Statue of Liberty cried

	Curtis Moorman
	12 September 2014

Copyright © Curtis Moorman

Details | New York Poem | |

Flicker of hope

The abyss so deep so profound
It didn't thwart our efforts
It made us strong of mind
Gave us a sense of unity
To see thru the light
At the end of this
endless Tunnel
this is today,but yesterday's
Gone by recalling a time
When our bodies ached
Working 16 hour days 
16 hour nights at 50 cents
Working long tedious hours
Without a break and getting fired 
For unknown reasons 
No protection  or job security
Low wages day in and day out
Our clothes reeked of sweat
Our hearts cry out to deaf ears
And Our souls bled
We held the bastion
And the flicker of hope
As we stood shoulder to shoulder
Man woman child
Reclaiming and the denouncing
Those who wanted to break up
Our beloved union 1199 Seiu
Call it what you may
This is a message of hope 
Unity sacrifice and survival
Brothers and sisters
United we stand 
Divided we fall.                                                           
And die.                                                                         
The fight will continue...                                                   

All rights reserved 
   A.Camacho jr.



                           This was an opening monologue that I recited
                                     For job security and cutbacks
                                                In Harlem,NY
                                     For ratification of a contract
                      For 1199 SEIU Health care workers national union
                          Attended by hundreds of workers and city officials
                                   The struggles and the fight continues
                                                    Thank you

Copyright © Tonytocaa Camacho

Details | New York Poem | |

the love we had seemed so far away

i look to stars and wishes flew through space never to be heard again
fun to friends hearts do meld and break facing until time ends
this loop that plays and beats that syncopate become but a gem
pleasure a chest opened in surprise feeling no need to defend
galaxies away lonely planets  please keep me in mind
 distance could grow something fond or lost between the lines
gps my love you can see  its still where I  left it behind
thoughts fade away with life love lives forever in my rhyme

Im sorry, I wanted more,with  all this space between
disconnected and I still look to that day
we talked on the phone, our separate homes
the love we had seemed so far away

without air i couldnt breathe squeezed until I'm passing by
no water flow my skin would dry and I return to the sky
sunny days would blacken out, attracting need for desperate lies
to make up for the beauty lost from death slowly closing my eyes
that fire once sparking motion snuffed in huffs slipping away
dwifting I sway shaky grounds where once I sat easily and stay
upon my feet I still float drowning out all thoughts that stray
Tho these ends can come swift its worse to miss and hear you say

Im sorry, I wanted more,with  all this space between
disconnected and I still look to that day
we talked on the phone, our separate homes
the love we had seemed so far away

down the road,flying free, I ride the wave and hope for your return
through several seas and cloudy peaks, storms of sand, I will not turn
helpless to fate and future events, nothing prevents something to learn
  sights may not sore, nothing much looking more, isn't my concern
I hope the best and happyness is true to bless you, not just in dreams
we can meet when we sleep discussing life while sleeping seems
thanks for trying Im not exactly dying, banes of  sentient beings
real enough moving on is rough, i'll love you forever, writting my means

Copyright © Davin Payne

Details | New York Poem | |

New York Street Horse

Plunked down in chaos
from a gentler time,
blinkered from the traffic
he pulls the coach along.
Patient, in his harness bond
he tugs at hearts, with pathos-
as to his love of duty we respond. 
Amidst the screech of sirens
and the blasting horns,
he stands and dreams
of meadows in a nosebag.
Such rhythmic clicking of
 metal shoes on concrete,
full rolling of the carriage
wheels and he, confined,
down through the centuries
he thought he'd left behind.

Suzanne Delaney

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney

Details | New York Poem | |

New York City

I live in the city that never sleeps
Time square lights shine
While the sun creeps.
Homeless men rush to the big tin can 
Of left over meals
Teens vamp through the night,
No sleeping pills.
My fellow citizens
Shop so late
Club stays open in Brooklyn
Way past eight.
Catch a ferry to Staten Island
Or a nice boat ride in Manhattan
A Broadway musical
Staring Jasmine and Aladdin.
A Yankees game in the Bronx
On a nice sunny day
Mr. Softie drives by 
While all the kids play.
A booster on the street
Selling expensive bags for cheap
And Knock off shoes
While he watch out for police.
Knicks game at Madison square garden
Carmelo Anthony hits 30 points
A Rikers island bus 
Releasing inmates from the joint.
New York City is my city,
The city everyone wants to meet.
It stays awake as the sun creeps
My city never sleeps.

Copyright © Corenne Seale

Details | New York Poem | |


Driving home is a relaxing ride
when pretty lights dazzle on those New York's deserted streets
and more than the bright moon illuminating sidewalks with trees, 
they can easily enchant anyone!
Who has noticed, at dusk, how stillness
invades a city that earlier was too noisy?
Somehow, we must have awareness
of what is going on around us; isn't it dilly
to let a peaceful feeling take you on the quite road?
Drive and enjoy the awesome view, release the load!
When pretty lights dazzle on New York's avenues and boulevards,
admire the beautiful images that shadows can't obliterate,
watch them closer: see a purple sky vanishing behind clouds;
sit on a bench, be that poet who writes words that fascinate!  

Entered in nette oncloud's contest,
" Street Lights "
Written by Andrew Crisci on 10/7/2014

Copyright © Andrew Crisci

Details | New York Poem | |

The New York Times

Its all of your imagination, 
The night life,  in the day time? All the shine, in the 
New York,  New York,  kinda times
New York times in the winter months imaginable, very cold, 
Let me really make it in a New York kinda mind frame , crystal clear, fashion with nothing, 
Nothing but the best,  and the rest is a block ago,  
at the end of the block, Turn left, 
Then in a quick New York minute, 
you'll see a big Christmas tree and ice skating rink, 
When you see the taxi with the big logo saying
 Go That away! 
You've only gone to far in a New York Kinda minute.

Copyright © Robert Bessel

Details | New York Poem | |

New York

Each single morning on my way to work
I fantasize what happens in New York
If I were to spend a long weekend there.
I'd ask you out of the blue, not despair.

Once passionate lovers, can we be friends?
No regrets, hesitations or amends.
Where do we meet? The hotel? The lobby?
I spot you. Elegant, somewhat snobby.

How do I greet you and what do I say?
Hi dear... soul mate. Missed you dearly? In may
Decided to fly out to NY and meet.
By then I will figure out how to greet 

You and not feel awkward. Oh how dorky.
You'll play along. You're a little quirky. 
Just enough to find you so exotic.
You grew mustache with tint of quixotic 

Cervantes look and easy Spanish feel. 
Hey Danny! What is the bloody big deal?
Are we just friends. Are we also lovers?
Let's go upstairs and dive deep in covers!

I was in love but I cannot resist
Your sweat, smile. I really do insist!
It's just beyond me. Your hair, torso, mist,
Your shoulders, fingers, buttocks, it's your gist.

What a miserable challenge we faced!
Day after day we tango, I'm amazed.
Manhattan, landmark of Times Square, Broadway.
Home I learn I am two weeks late. Hurray! 

The first day we most certainly behave.
We drink a lot of coffee and I rave
About you, NY, delight of sightseeing.
I feel as if it was all worth being

So depressed, heavily stressed months ago.
With you I feel like Marilyn Monroe,
Have never ever felt like this, I swear.
Sweet-talk me and make love to me, I dare!

You take and hold my skinny shaking hand.
Do as I will say, it is my demand!
Your sharp mind, pretty body I possess.
Our New York trip turns out a huge success!

List of emailed fantasies we fulfill,
I tremble and shake as if on treadmill.
Simplest of ever changing life's pleasures,
Not in green US dollars does it measure.

At night it's time to head out to ballet:
We enjoy, chit-chat, sip on Chardonnay.
We walk back, temperature is awesome.
You make me peak ten times so I blossom.

I stare at you as you glow and beckon.
How late is it, so what do you reckon?
Hear you, feel you, scan you, have ambition.
Tasted loving with no inhibition.

I dream of you. You are here. Take me rough!
You read my mind, our eyes meet and you cough,
Signaling end of dining and way out
Retrieving the directions of the route

That would take us back to our simple room,
Oftentimes New York just resembles "Doom"!
A yellow cab pulls over to the curb.
There's a sign on our door. "Do not disturb"...

Copyright © Agatha Jetaime

Details | New York Poem | |

Sati Mata in Jackson Heights

Sita's getting chubby;
"I'm pregnant," she claims.
Ma's henna-tinged hair
bursts into flames.

It never lived
but Ma shrieks "Honor is dead!"
Sita never wanted marriage
but now how will Sita wed?

At thirty-six
Sita's not a child.
That perfect plastic smile
her whole life she's smiled.


Ma is on fire.
She burns on the pyre
of dead traditions and parched dreams.
And life goes on.

Copyright © Anamika Nair

Details | New York Poem | |

Fabulous Fifties

Fabulous Fifties

is what they called it,

we just called it a good time.

It was a great time in history

to be a teenager, to have our

youth, it was a time for some

to rebel, others to grow up.

Movies were some of the best

TV shows were coming of age,

with I Love Lucy, Gunsmoke,

Donna Reed, Ozzie and Harriet,

which brought Ricky Nelson fame.

Who could forget Garry Cooper

in High Noon, or Ray Miland

plotting to kill his wife in

"Dial M For Murder".

No one would believe

Richard Carlson when he

told everyone that a space ship

had landed in the Arizona desert

in "It Came From Outer Space",

or the little boy who said

he saw a space ship land out in

his field and people kept

disappearing by falling through

the ground in "Invaders From Mars"

in 1953.

The Brooklyn Dodgers finally

brought home a World Championship

in 1955.  This year also brought

Rock 'n Roll to us teen agers

when Bill Halley and his Comets

had a hit with "Rock Around The Clock".

1956 was the first no-hitter when

Don Larsen of the New York Yankees

threw one against the Brookylyn Dodgers

in the World Series, it has not happen

before or since in the World Series.

The Fifties also brought us 3-D, way

before our so called 3-D  TV sets of today.

I remember seeing a few or so, wearing

those white glasses we thought we were

so cool.

Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Chuch Berry,

Little Richard and many others will

never have that many big music stars

again.  A New York Baseball team went

to the World Series every year of the

Fifties except 1959 and they would

have then also, if the Brooklyn Dodgers

had not moved to Los Angles.

The Fifties was a great time to

grow up, things would never be

the same again, our youth was left

in the Fifties, times would change

and leave us longing for those

good old days when old age

reached us.

Written 6-20-11

Copyright © James Foulk

Details | New York Poem | |

The Apple City New York

While listening to Schumann’s “Arabesque” 
and “Fantasiestüche” for the Mozart B flat Sonata,
I feel the warmth and love that’s powerful within;
a moment of instrospection, a source of intervention.

I live in a wonderful country, beautiful and well-known;
its historical significance and cultural diversity,
define those experiences with charm and closeness
that make something special how New York stands now.

The Statue of Liberty with its wide attraction to many,
a perfect landmark that speaks volumes about migrants;
as a gift from France that took a long voyage to arrive
between two countries there’s friendship and assurance.

The Ellis Island Immigration Museum is just close by,
where photos and experiences of the early immigrants
are showcased and memorialized as treasures of the land
so interesting that makes everyone know how they were.

In all five boroughs from Manhattan to the Bronx, Queens,
Brooklyn, and Staten Island, there’s a look of sheer delight;
great attractions and endless events scheduled for all seasons,
breathtaking sights with Broadway theatres and the brightest -
Times Square that has always been a rendezvous for tourism.

Oh, city of New York! filled with everything that one can claim
a known place in the world with so much to offer to all
like London in England, Madrid in Spain, or Milan in Italy;
all these cities have world-class shopping one can be interested in.

There are great places for dining, culture, tours, and transportation,
subways are convenient for everyone to explore Manhattan
with a number of museums, galleries, and centers for all promotions
like entertainment, history, arts, culture, music and literature.

Delighting audiences of all ages has got the Big Apple has,
it brings you up to date favorite and famous big-screen moments;
artistic and entertaining performances such as musical extravaganzas,
sci-fi fantasies, romances, sweeping epics, concerts and many others.

Trendy boutiques, funky cafes, velvet-roped nightspots and delis
are some places full of culture that one can probably explore;
their stories and history provide us with vistas and attention
Truly, places of glamour, excitement, entertainment, and much more.

Oh, city of New York it’s a great adventure to explore this, so far,
its fascinating neighborhoods with a variety of cultures involved,
a great experience, an enriching reality with multi-ethnic groups;
with legendary history that celebrates and shapes humanity.

Copyright © mark escobar

Details | New York Poem | |

The Aurum River

A burning golden river.
A thousand ember dots.
Whose endless waking slivers,
Hide liquid molten knots

A contented purring timbre 
Of viscous weary rock,
Caught in eyes of amber
And weeping molten locks

Its ingot rivlet ripples
Wafting whispers in the air.
Its quaking thunder trickles,
Build shaking sunder mares

Brushing one another,
Aurus tears they bleed
Darkened flesh they smother,
In dripping gilded creed

Burning golden river,
A weaving flame no more
Dusty charred banks quiver
Slaked in starlit gore.


Copyright © Avery Swarthout

Details | New York Poem | |

Grey mottled Pastiche

A maze of tall ascending fingers pierce the sky
Prominent and conceived as seeds
In someone's fertile mind
Crowded together packed in vertical line
That overshadow the pavement below.

Temples of finance and commerce
Amassed in concrete and reflective glass
As tiny moving dots like ants scurry and hurry below
Metal boxes of all shapes and colours
In the city like a river stop and flow.

A array of stores billboards and eye catching signs
Forming linear line
The pavement wet with rain makes them shine.

The hustle and bustle of traffic 
Horns And police sirens make a awful din
But just normal and ignored by the residents and crowds 
That tread the pavement and reside within 
The collage of busy hectic city life 
For the lucky and affluent a shoppers paradise
But for the homeless sleeping rough
On the cold concrete
Life is tough.

Peter Dome.Copyright.2015. May.

Copyright © Peter Dome

Details | New York Poem | |

The Talk Of The Town

New York's the talk of the town.
New York, New York.
When you're passing through, 
you get a scenic veiw.
Of the Statue Of Liberty.
New York's celebrity host.
They're the talk of the town.
Manhattan's day, a queens souffle.
A trip through Long Island.
Hudson Bay along the way.
New York, New York.
If you say this twice.
It's twice as nice.
New York, New York..

New York's the talk of the town.
New York, New York.
They say it's great.
The Empire State, 
and the Statue Of Liberty.
Don't turn around.
We're onward bound.
On a trip through Long Island.
Hudson Bay along the way.
New York, New York.
If you say this twice.
It's twice as nice.
New York, New York.

New York's the talk of the town.
New York, New York.
Take a pleasure cruise.
Then read the news, 
and watch a football game.
Manhattan's day, a queens souffle.
A trip through Long Island.
Hudson Bay along the way.
New York, New York.

So, if you say this twice.
It's twice as nice.
New York, New York.
New York's the talk of the town.
New York, New York..

Poetry-New York-By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1980,2014..ALL rights reserved.

Copyright © Kim Robin Edwards

Details | New York Poem | |

Futyre child syndrome exposed

In a moment there was time a child could grasp corporeal and gracious
It stopped and I carefully gave non notice to educasees
that paused me to bleed blend assinine inaccurate aforementioneds
to preprocure a mule measured primrose pathos of interposes to analyze the ex ever jutaposes of irrevelant psuedo spawn spellings intrinsic of piss patterns nego 
nero nitro nuego of lunar literant intent grating gravity gunite givings presupposing cannon quantites quotient of add, substract, multiply, divide, die in my seat work consistent of soulservitude a prisoner of seatzenda, a great book read poised to a 
selling of elementary sealed solvent sedintary solices sleeveless saints of sanitary sectors sanctioning soulful sensibilities senitent of sailable sanities. Boys will be boys, ADD,ADHD a cool cover up for 80 % legis lay teachers to drugafy, deamplify, villify, castrate, humilitate, propogate the post predisposition of that which is normalcy to a degree of zombie cumulo butt compliance for the powers at be be-gone, biploar bulimec, blandering, blistering, bloging, bifurcating blog bog billows, stress all that is pharmacorelative with respect to the adultoparentive coaxial moneyisms that speaks to a bygone exoera of residio responsibile valiumviscous banailty. Cool calm creepy excel expenditures procede pre positive parental protocals procreating patterened presentials to predictive humo end hiatial hemorroids. In the end we prosperspire in pain pile potentials. Predictable predicates promise postmortem primal preordinates. Enjoy eating educational entrails!

Copyright © Dave Collins