Poems About the City Published by Members Recently Online
#city
wallyroo92
Poem Published
2nd Jan 2021 7:01am
2nd Jan 2021 7:01am
Golden Empire
The landscape changes every ten miles in each direction
Ranches and fields to the south and west
A brown panorama due to fracking in the north
And large farms to the east, leading to the mountains
To the southern tip of the Sierras
Although most of the town is flat
On the outskirts
The roads move up and down with the terrain
Where the land is open and wide
On the highways you can drive for miles
And see nothing but fields
You can see the migrant workers
Working under the hot summer sun
Working in the harshest...
Ranches and fields to the south and west
A brown panorama due to fracking in the north
And large farms to the east, leading to the mountains
To the southern tip of the Sierras
Although most of the town is flat
On the outskirts
The roads move up and down with the terrain
Where the land is open and wide
On the highways you can drive for miles
And see nothing but fields
You can see the migrant workers
Working under the hot summer sun
Working in the harshest...
#home
#city
#nature #LifeCycle
#nature #LifeCycle
430 reads
8 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
2nd Jan 2021 7:01am
2nd Jan 2021 7:01am
Golden Empire
The landscape changes every ten miles in each direction
Ranches and fields to the south and west
A brown panorama due to fracking in the north
And large farms to the east, leading to the mountains
To the southern tip of the Sierras
Although most of the town is flat
On the outskirts
The roads move up and down with the terrain
Where the land is open and wide
On the highways you can drive for miles
And see nothing but fields
You can see the migrant workers
Working under the hot summer sun
Working in the harshest...
Ranches and fields to the south and west
A brown panorama due to fracking in the north
And large farms to the east, leading to the mountains
To the southern tip of the Sierras
Although most of the town is flat
On the outskirts
The roads move up and down with the terrain
Where the land is open and wide
On the highways you can drive for miles
And see nothing but fields
You can see the migrant workers
Working under the hot summer sun
Working in the harshest...
#home
#city
#nature #LifeCycle
#nature #LifeCycle
430 reads
8 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre (Copper Canyon Blues)
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
#romantic
#city
#nature
#trains
#marijuana
184 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre (Copper Canyon Blues)
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
#romantic
#city
#nature
#trains
#marijuana
184 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre (Copper Canyon Blues)
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
#romantic
#city
#nature
#trains
#marijuana
184 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre (Copper Canyon Blues)
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
#romantic
#city
#nature
#trains
#marijuana
184 reads
0 Comments
goldenmyst
Poem Published
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
17th Feb 2024 1:23am
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre (Copper Canyon Blues)
Azuls de Barrancas del Cobre
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
(Copper Canyon Blues)
Dusty Chihuahua desolation
At lonely train depot
Desert crossroads for rail journey
Arrival
Copper Canyon is cantina calypso drums
On the slopes of the valley spirit
and the manger in a holy hostel
is a bunk bed for my blue traveler soul
Where a feminine voice sings from above
A rosary in Spanish timbre
As I sink into a paradise of lullabies
To her novena nirvana
When the sun returns like a prodigal son ...
#romantic
#city
#nature
#trains
#marijuana
184 reads
0 Comments
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
23rd May 2024 1:57am
23rd May 2024 1:57am
City
Constant Noise.
Constant beats.
Constant walking,
on city streets.
Never that dark.
lights light up the sky.
Never walk in the park.
Late at night.
Carts of food,
at every corner.
Venders drool,
for their next quarter.
One in the morning,
you still get some smiles.
One in the morning,
Don't trust those eyes.
Does a city truly sleep?
As busy as it seems.
Even rodents creep.
Hyped up on caffeine.
Would I survive at a slower pace?
Could...
Constant beats.
Constant walking,
on city streets.
Never that dark.
lights light up the sky.
Never walk in the park.
Late at night.
Carts of food,
at every corner.
Venders drool,
for their next quarter.
One in the morning,
you still get some smiles.
One in the morning,
Don't trust those eyes.
Does a city truly sleep?
As busy as it seems.
Even rodents creep.
Hyped up on caffeine.
Would I survive at a slower pace?
Could...
#city
#culture
#happiness
56 reads
15 Comments
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
23rd May 2024 1:57am
23rd May 2024 1:57am
City
Constant Noise.
Constant beats.
Constant walking,
on city streets.
Never that dark.
lights light up the sky.
Never walk in the park.
Late at night.
Carts of food,
at every corner.
Venders drool,
for their next quarter.
One in the morning,
you still get some smiles.
One in the morning,
Don't trust those eyes.
Does a city truly sleep?
As busy as it seems.
Even rodents creep.
Hyped up on caffeine.
Would I survive at a slower pace?
Could...
Constant beats.
Constant walking,
on city streets.
Never that dark.
lights light up the sky.
Never walk in the park.
Late at night.
Carts of food,
at every corner.
Venders drool,
for their next quarter.
One in the morning,
you still get some smiles.
One in the morning,
Don't trust those eyes.
Does a city truly sleep?
As busy as it seems.
Even rodents creep.
Hyped up on caffeine.
Would I survive at a slower pace?
Could...
#city
#culture
#happiness
56 reads
15 Comments
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
23rd May 2024 1:57am
23rd May 2024 1:57am
City
Constant Noise.
Constant beats.
Constant walking,
on city streets.
Never that dark.
lights light up the sky.
Never walk in the park.
Late at night.
Carts of food,
at every corner.
Venders drool,
for their next quarter.
One in the morning,
you still get some smiles.
One in the morning,
Don't trust those eyes.
Does a city truly sleep?
As busy as it seems.
Even rodents creep.
Hyped up on caffeine.
Would I survive at a slower pace?
Could...
Constant beats.
Constant walking,
on city streets.
Never that dark.
lights light up the sky.
Never walk in the park.
Late at night.
Carts of food,
at every corner.
Venders drool,
for their next quarter.
One in the morning,
you still get some smiles.
One in the morning,
Don't trust those eyes.
Does a city truly sleep?
As busy as it seems.
Even rodents creep.
Hyped up on caffeine.
Would I survive at a slower pace?
Could...
#city
#culture
#happiness
56 reads
15 Comments
eswaller
Poem Published
26th Jul 2019 00:08am
26th Jul 2019 00:08am
Oakland, Californa
Twenty-seven years of my existence, scattered around and
Hidden within the precious gems of Oakland, where I grew
Up. It is like you keep rediscovering every forgotten nook.
An airport with tearful and heartfelt goodbyes with a hand
That is hard to let go of. With every minute passing through
It gets more difficult to part ways with a place that hooks
You with its charm and hometown feel. It is like luggage,
Lost but then found again among the panoramic views of
The city. The memories that are fresh yet years old, like
The boy I loved here with my...
Hidden within the precious gems of Oakland, where I grew
Up. It is like you keep rediscovering every forgotten nook.
An airport with tearful and heartfelt goodbyes with a hand
That is hard to let go of. With every minute passing through
It gets more difficult to part ways with a place that hooks
You with its charm and hometown feel. It is like luggage,
Lost but then found again among the panoramic views of
The city. The memories that are fresh yet years old, like
The boy I loved here with my...
#home
#city
526 reads
6 Comments
eswaller
Poem Published
26th Jul 2019 00:08am
26th Jul 2019 00:08am
Oakland, Californa
Twenty-seven years of my existence, scattered around and
Hidden within the precious gems of Oakland, where I grew
Up. It is like you keep rediscovering every forgotten nook.
An airport with tearful and heartfelt goodbyes with a hand
That is hard to let go of. With every minute passing through
It gets more difficult to part ways with a place that hooks
You with its charm and hometown feel. It is like luggage,
Lost but then found again among the panoramic views of
The city. The memories that are fresh yet years old, like
The boy I loved here with my...
Hidden within the precious gems of Oakland, where I grew
Up. It is like you keep rediscovering every forgotten nook.
An airport with tearful and heartfelt goodbyes with a hand
That is hard to let go of. With every minute passing through
It gets more difficult to part ways with a place that hooks
You with its charm and hometown feel. It is like luggage,
Lost but then found again among the panoramic views of
The city. The memories that are fresh yet years old, like
The boy I loved here with my...
#home
#city
526 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About the City Published by Members Recently Online
