Inner City Poems - Poems about Inner City

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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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 me So I head to the local hangout OST coffee...

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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 in our way. When our kids were young we would bring...

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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 passing when sounds of gunfire are heard silence comes from gang handshakes pigeons...

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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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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 quest for deeper truth has outgrown the the knowledge of my...

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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 bodies, not rope and the avenue of avenging sin this, was my...

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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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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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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, bullets fly At night I listen to crack addicts as they...

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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 ME. I TRIED TO FIGURE OUT WHAT I DID WRONG....

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