Best Montreal Poems
Born in Greenfield Park, 89 years ago
Across the St Lawrence River from Montreal
Feel nostalgic
Last day tragic
The end to an amazing (hopefully) 89 years
Saturday, February the 14th of the year 2015
It's no Valentine's Day in the Great White North
It's the big Hockey Night in Canada
And to these fans, it's a night of epic rivalry
Saturday nights with the blue and white
Trying to play with all their might
Saturday nights with le bleu, blanc, et rouge
Trying to play all the way through
When the moment the puck drops,
A person's normal heartbeat stops
When the instant the puck hits the ice,
A rival's heartbeat is anything but nice
Toronto Maple Leafs - the long shot team
Will bring their honor to battle for this rivalry
Montréal Canadiens - the big shot team
Will bring their torch to burn on this rivalry
Two teams will battle for a victory right
Only one team will have victory upon being loyal
As for this Valentine's Day hockey night
There will be no love in Montreal
Traffic cones here
traffic cones there
in Montreal
traffic cones are everywhere
Blocked
unblocked
Blocked
unblocked
Blocked
unblocked
Blocked
unblocked
Blogged
unBlogged
*Image of Montreal Mount Royal Pixabay.
Montreal in the Fall
Well, sis, deal with it while bro throws a fit,
I stand, mom fusses with the new dresses,
Bro's frown much bigger, her smile, his trigger,
He stomps to changing. I glide to wearing,
I spin with pleasure. He grabs another,
On to school supplies, mom's past will surprise,
Laptop, iPad end, paper, and the pen,
My bro's ignited, gets mom excited,
Bro ditches his frown, mom gets back her clown,
Mom's costly exchange, bro's sneaky shortchange,
Top brand names he gets, don't worry, dad's cheques,
At Pig's Farm, oh yea, an ice cream cafe,
Kenny acted up. Teasing had buildup,
My names' Evelyn, he says, Evil-Lynn,
Kenny is evil, Evil Ken-evil,
A workaholic, like dad, real quick,
Mom, the careerist, turned "Mommie Dearest,"
Act nice little ones. Twosome meets gruesome,
We all bust, laughing, "Got-cha," we're cracking,
Montreal, we shopped, price and snow, mom opt,
Twas no snow, twas sad, shopped with mom, we're glad.
Long drive and bro's sad, girls spoke French, his bad,
Sorta English, mine's, was deaf, he spoke sign,
Monsters, together, slept on my brother.
2022 August 21
The sun fell like a fallen angel
A small town, a small repas de sang
We fell into a land
Where lovers hold hands
Candles shimmered
We saw our faces in cascades
We dreamed of past lovers
We looked forward to our desires
The winds wiped away our sins
As we planned even more carnal desires
The fires, orange and hot
Raging infernos, we said why not
Entwined in dreams
We knew could not be
I drowned in her passion
I died that night, a painless death
No blood or swords did anyone see
As my heart was torn away from thee
Passionate nights, lifeless days
Ghosts laughter my only warning
I fell into the sea
Of what many call life’s misery
I did not drown, I did not die
Here is my immortal warning
Never spend a night away
Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Poetic Lyrics By Thomas Lam Hsi
THERE IS ONLY ONE TRUE GOD...THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY...WHO ALONE CAN
SAVE FROM Satan...who plays 'all' roles...the devil...the 'Lord Jesus'...
the 'Father'...the 'Holy Spirit'...all 'Other Gods'...and 'alien gods'...HE...THE
LORD JESUS CHRIST HIMSELF IS FULLY GOD AND MAN...AND HE ALONE...
IS THE ONLY WAY TO GOD THE FATHER...and to an Actual Heaven!
If...this stamp were you...my kiss...would seal it!
For you're beautiful...to me...and your...heart cries!
And I know...that a beautiful...woman's broken heart...just dies!
Your words are...soothing as a...warm summer's tide!
As my fingers slide...the ebony dust...past the page...'fore my next ride!
And...PS...I love you...and my kiss...just...sealed it!
Ruby red...or a...cocktail...pink...pout!
My world is...upside down...and...inside out!
Every fairy tale...every song...is...only you!
Life...always goes on...but...me...and you?
Somewhere...in Montreal...I'm here!
Somewhere...in the world...you're there!
Ships at night...the...cruelest joke!
A fading star...a little girl's...heart...soon revoked!
If...this letter...ever reaches you...my kiss...just sealed it!
And...I am...beautiful...just...you'll see!
Beautiful...as an...orchid...just...you and me!
Love...in Montreal...chilly...at tea?
Penning lines...together...just you...next to me?
Didn't it...didn't it...and my kisses...didn't...they seal it?
My fingers...etched along...glistening gemstones...in...the pitchness of night!
Child's play...pretty stars...shining...so bright!
Snowflakes...collecting high...as your kisses...falling...upon mine!
Life together...forever...one...of-a-kind!
And so...you'll come...so...you'll come...I just...knew it!
You were always...going to come...and...I just...knew it!
Momma's first...jewelry box...just...a silly toy!
Stuffed...with...cracker jacks...for that...special boy!
An Odd Man In Montreal
There’s an odd man up in Montreal
Who’s young in the spring and old in the fall
In March—Let’er rip!
In September—Oh, my hip!
His mid-age crises he has in St. Paul
2/1/22
SCENT OF MONTREAL
Off the Place d’Armes near the Ruelle
Des Fortifications, is a restaurant small -
Cosy with smell of garlic with all :
Makes me hungry and want to sit a spell.
Every dish is a delight: I love each one so -
Cheesy Onion soup and Vichyssoise;
The omelettes and the souffle a la quebecoise;
Cuisses de grenouilles and escargots.
Sound of caleches across the square
Faint violin music down the street there
This today is la joie de vivre
The city breathes with Frenchness in the air -
Near to heaven-scent it is so rare -
But better if it were le Quebec libre
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .
Written by Sydney Peck
French sonnet form
Entered in Cyndi MacMillan’s Contest UN, DEUX, TROIS....OOH LA LA!!!!
She is most like her age
Time having eroded some of her natural beauty
A few warts have appeared here and there in spots
Yet there is this blend of young and old alike melded into one
She has transformed herself from bilingual to multi-lingual
Despite this her character has little changed over a long existence
The night life she relishes still as vibrant as ever
If she was a building one would say she had age and charm
Her busyness belies her serenity
Blessed with a deep history she exudes confidence
Allowing her to grow and prosper
Into whom she is today
Nothing can dampen her spirit it seems
Though sometimes turbulent periods have been had
Through it all a humorist slant developed and enjoyed by many
Her name Montreal
Andreas Simic©
montreal moving day
appliances at risk
in spiral staircases
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on June 10, 2020 for contest SPIRAL sponsored by MICHAEL KAI NEUMANN
Originally posted on May 21, 2018
1947 Ford and Chevys passing striding horses
identical street cars at the corner
shops with piling in people
purses swinging in the rain
street clocks announcing four thirty
minions off work walking toward home
bicyclist meeting motorcyclist
Peel and St Catherine are alive
I watch from my window
two tandem horses
wearing blinders
having no idea what is happening
plain colored umbrellas at attention
drizzling rain out there
mostly adults yet one teen
Montreal is closing down for the day
a rising sun nowhere to be seen
autumn clouds hang overhead
montreal dreary skies weigh down
metropolis threatened under siege
skyscrapers reach but come up short
smothered by a blanket of grey
unfurled over a sleepy cityscape
everyone scurries helter skelter
seeming cold and eerily distraught
autumn colors peppered about
in a panoramic october slumberfest
Published in my photo/poetry book ~MONTREAL UNDER CLOUDS~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Posted on October 26, 2019
doors and roses
horses laugh
mystery abounds
leaves whisper
you guide your spirit
on the alphabet,
just like the first poet
~
..channeled; spirit Ram; 1986
..©2018 Spiros Zafiris
__________________
Heartache of angels
crying
on the shoulder
of Mother,
on droopy skies,
of vanilla grey.
Fruits of light
dangle from trees,
Lighting
the vanilla
of the night.
Highways
filled with horns,
stuck in traffic.
Everyone
chats in whisper.
No piping
from the whistler,
moving carts
for hordes
in the caves,
rolling thousands
by minutes.
Plenty talk
with paranoia
some read,
some knit,
while others swear.
Air is rusty
and cold,
vapour like,
To the breathe
and form ice.
On a rainy night
in Montreal
A dampened spray; a slapping sheet
Tar and gravel; my bare feet
A windy view of rooftop world
The deeping sky with clouds unfurled
An outlined fort of broken bricks
A winding lane of artists' tricks
The army of the parking lot
Wanders home, its battles fought
A Sunday park, an emerald pond
The chalt's view, a city's song
A parkbench lunch; the marble shrine
A twilight ride at evening time
Sunset flames on chimney brick
Summer evening, sweet and thick
Against a sky of deep claret
The smokey city's silhouette
A lamplit room where heavy heads
Are climbing into tall warm beds
Somewhere outside the city sleeps
As rain falls on the rainbow streets