Best South Side Poems
Heading east on 16th Street
where the road becomes a “T”
it’s the last house on the south side
that means so much to me.
Pine shrubbery up to the windows
giant cottonwoods stand guard
an arch above the driveway
an eighteen acre yard
Wrapped in warm wood siding
inviting young and old
“Come! Sit upon this porch of mine!
Such stories yet to be told!”
The shingled roof, though worn with time
still boasts unyielding strength
a red brick chimney standing tall,
giant windows down the length
I helped to plant those giant trees
when we were both still small
and pulled the weeds from every inch
of eighteen acres....ALL!
I’ve climbed out of those windows
some punishment to escape
I’ve run across that rooftop
donned in a long red cape
I’ve crawled under that porch
upon my hands and knees
to rescue baby kittens
or little brothers for to tease
I’ve chased the dogs around the house
upon my faithful steed
who was just a Shetland pony
but always up to the deed!
Within those walls, and out it seems,
many lessons there were learned
and in the process of it all
the memories, on my heart, were burned
Though things change, as all things do,
there, most things stay the same
like love and laughter flowing ‘round
and calling out my name
Now, when I’m growing weary
and need a place to hide
I jump into my trusty car
and go out for a ride
‘cause
Heading east on 16th Street
where the road becomes a “T”
that last house on the south side
means so much to me!
Trudy Diane Rider
10-2003
a gray squirrel just hopped by
and hardly left a track
On snow that's covered ground for weeks
Or is it months I rack
Upon a well filled memory's shelf
Of Winter's lengthy lack.
The morning sun shines through the cold
Teasing open azalea leaves
and fat hung rhodedandrons
Bare patches of mossy grasses
Glisten dryly in shivery sunlight
Neath empty twigs on empty branches
All tipped with swell of will be buds
This morn is full of shudder coulds
And the second cuppa's swallowed cold
This winter time is getting old
As hungry sparrows' wings unfold.
In not a breath of wind
With lifeless eyes he forms the south side
hand sign
represent his neighborhood is all he know
No remorse for his actions banging on the
other side
Dope in his pocket pistol in his waistband
pulling aiming firing shots with his left
hand
Hot steel spiralling out the barrel of the
gun empty shells and bodies hitting the
pavement
Elevating the crime rate he celebrates with
his homies back on the south side
Lines of cocaine being snorted off the
stomachs of sluts with bloodshot eyes
they scream southside
North Siders come through gunning
automatic weapons being fired screams
of whores echo through the night unable
to return fire south siders lay dying with
lifeless eyes they form the south side
hand sign
written by Keith Edward Baucum aka The
Brown Philosopher aka The Green Poet
aka Red Seven
''The South Side of Chicago'' by David Hart
The South Side of Chicago
Whence those childhood years were spent
Skip-walking upon grimacing cracked sidewalks
Hastening through filth floored garbage canned
flanked alleyways to--
The forlorn house--windows weeping chrystalline shards--
cascading glass tears
"Property Condemned" blared in scarlet on the door.
"Someone lives there" it was said,
"the man who gathers things from the garbage cans"
The pebble strewn church yard, where, in prickly winter,
scarved boys coerce the bell to toll with swift flung
snowballs catapaulted to a shivering bell tower.
The South Side of Chicago,
The year of the big church fire
That day it did burn and claw
At the hot black night sky.
People gathered, assembled in solemnity
Aghast, huddled and shoving to see
That hallowed place whose torrents
Of Sunday's serenities and dressups
Now would no longer be.
The South Side of Chicago
There, the swill darkened tavern
That nightly gulped down shadow faced spectres
A lad cries out, "the bar, someone stabbed in the
head, come and see".
"Not I", I said, "not a sight I'd care to see",
as an acidic sadness enveloped me.
The boys came together wearing their
jackets and coats--symbols affixed, emblems
proudly donned--so they knew who they were.
"Wanna join?" "No thanks", I said, "Glad to be
just solitary me".
I watched them, fighting their rivals
With chains, steel pipes and knives
Fearing their bloody deeds.
Content to be alone
Alone and free
The South Side of Chicago
In cramped classrooms scented in
soap and sawdust
Mostly attentive I would be
Amidst tatterly clothed children
--waiting for recess, lunch or
time to go home.
At recess, the garbage men came
And roused a battalion of rats
That scattered pell-mell
Amidst little girl shrieks
and screams
Little boys chortling
Chased those rats frightened
away
Far away
On the South Side of Chicago
2001DHartUSA
Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: South Side
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: August/2014
Old Man
Winter,
Is
moving
slow
bringing
Coughs
and
Colds,
to
the South-side
of
Chicago -
Man!
I thought
this cat
was gone,
He's Back!
With
a
Vengeance,
Icy and Bold -
I see him
through
the Arctic
wind,
moving
slow
In
the
Bitter cold,
On the
South side
of
Chicago -
So
Slyly
dressed,
with
a
wool scarf
about
his neck,
old
trench coat,
and
leather boots.....
"Yeah,
that's him
alright!"
thinking
he's
Camouflaged,
but,
I see
through
his
disguise -
As he
wrecks
winter havoc,
on the
South side -
Wait!
now he's
raising
his hand,
as though
to
say hello....
Nope!
Instead,
he
made
It
Snow -
The
whole scene
has
changed,
with
ONE wave
of
his hand.
Folks are
cold
down
to
their toes -
and
they
Shiver
and
Shake -
There are
Ice
on shingles,
and
Frost
on windows -
Old man
Winter
is in
his zone,
Polar zone -
Cars are
stranded,
and
The Loop,
has
Shut down.
The entire
City
is
at a
Standstill -
And
Old man
Winter,
Fridgit
as
ever,
Is
moving
slow
in the
Bitter cold
on the
South side
of
Chicago -
" I'm a bum," he said
on a hazy evening.
Standing on the corner
of East Carson Street,
South Side of Pittsburgh.
" Everyone has the potential
for genius!"
His words echo of the cracked
conglomerate of sidewalks
bearing the daily burden of
many passing,
shopper's unaware steps.
" We are all born with
the same number of brain
cells, little lady."
Was he telling me that
genius is bred within each
and not created?
"Intelligence and brilliance
burdens the streets!"
Decaying brown leather
shoes step on the ashes
dust from the menthol light
he had bummed from me.
" Addiction, my dear,
is all in the mind. I paid
five dollars for a cigarette
once,"
He laughs while cradling
the nicotine filled column
between his heavy aged
fingers.
" I don't need this anymore
than you do, anymore than
anyone needs anything."
Tossing the butt into
the ominous slits of
the pitched sewer
grate and then solemnly
strolled away stating,
" Don't you know it's all
in the mind, my dear,
all in the mind."
We’ll meet one last time tomorrow
to sign upon that dotted line
and what God once joined together
will be forever unentwined.
It’s the south side of tomorrow
no more friction, no more strife
break apart to come together
time to start a brand new life.
Still I think about our first year
when all our eggs were sun side up
and your morning smile made it clear
we more than filled our loving cup
It’s the south side of tomorrow
no more friction, no more strife
break apart to come together
time to start a brand new life.
Though the papers say no fault dear
we both know that’s not quite true
each affair would end with makeup tears
but we had new dreams to pursue.
It’s the south side of tomorrow
no more friction, no more strife
break apart to come together
time to start a brand new life.
We’ll meet one last time tomorrow
to sign upon that dotted line
and what God once joined together
will be forever unentwined.
***After school twin sisters meet in the schoolyard waiting for friends, ahead of a spring break, girl-talk kicks up...
I have a secret as to you,
Do not, do too, do not, do too,
It's from the grades you got from school,
It's not, it's true, It's not, it's true,
This A and that A, it's all you,
Not true, it's true, not true, it's true,
(Hugs over there,) hey, there's the pair,
Watch hair, don't care, watch hair, don't care!
Date: 09/03/2019