Best Inner City Poems

Broken windows give no reflection
graffiti for those who can read

concrete streets are polluted rivers
passing shoes leave bodies in need

disillusion is a crumbled sidewalk
stretching to an intersection of who cares

empty eyes follow shadows that wander
stolen clothes from the morgue to wear 

hope is a night's survival...

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I woke up early this morning contemplating, 
pondering over the meaning of this dream, 
Dreams that take me to mountains and valleys
Dreams that lands me into big cities,
Cheerful dreams ,troubling dreams
Dreams with no fitting answer  
to this mysterious and  perpeteous riddle of life.

My...

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INNER CITY – old neighborhood today

Not at all what it was
Not yet what it must become
Voices once so dear    drowned out
      by decadent color
Noise so disgustingly near
Sit and think longingly on old neighborhood
Shrug
Shed a tear...

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Syringes in fence palings
condoms on park benches
street sweeper drinks whiskey
at four in the morning
opera house silhouettes
the bridge of dawn
first ferry tugs out
rust and ropes
like stale sex
herald the rising sun
Circular Quay swims
with grey suits
and mid length skirts  
dark stocking like
instep, to the beat
of yesterday....

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Passing this park I think back to a time,
   back in my youth this is where we would play;
swinging on swings, and monkey bars to climb,
   shouting and laughing and playing all day;
   with no parents around to get...

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I'M FOM THE INNER CITY PROJECTS, BUT THE INNER CITY PROJECTS IS NOT IN ME.IT TOOK ME SOMETIME TO ADAPT TO MY HABITATE. WE WERE A CHRISTIAN FAMILY. THAT WAS SOMEWHAT GREEN. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

WHILE ATTENDING SCHOOL; THE GIRLS ALWAYS WANTED TO FIGHT...

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I to suffer, i to cry, i to live and i to die
and in betwen the things i've seen
the scenes an eye that i cannot deny
by necessity must make a mortal man mean

the neighborhood corner hawking dope
the  streets of sheer stagnation within
children jumping dead...

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Walking on the streets of the Lower East Side 
I see Hispanic men playing dominoes excitedly 
I see a Chinese woman collecting bottles for sale 
I see Orthodox men walking to shul 
I see children playing in the courtyard 
I feel the poetry rising within...

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Ink without a pen
fluid flowing uncontrolled...
graffiti attack.

© Harry J Horsman  2012


foot note

in my opinion!
some graffiti i really like, and should be displayed
in art galleries, where the energy of the artist(s) 
are allowed to flourish.....

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harsh reality thrust into dreams
potential shackled to ignorance,
drugs, violence, poverty and neglect
innocent souls forever stained
no roadmap out of the abyss
unheard cries, unwiped tears...

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I walked through the war zone with my head bowed down eyes fixated on the solid 
black ground,
 I dare not lookup not wanting to connect with their eyes nor their minds, because 
the contact from their weed smoke makes me feel high
Instead of birds,...

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