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Poems On / About CHICAGO  7/30/2014 6:15:19 PM
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Best Poems About / On CHICAGO
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3-year old among 13 shot in Sanford Fla., or Chicago? (9/19/13)

Thursday night basketball at a south side Chicago park,
Gunfire amidst chaos as shots echoed loudly in the dark,
Our culprits? DreadLocked men in a dark colored sedan,
The tally would have been even greater had some not ran.

Mr. George Zimmerman did not get dressed up in a wig,
Isn’t this incident & those like it worse than what he did?
How many Black Entertainers boycott Chicago, Illinois?
And why wasn’t this 3-year old home playing with toys?

Ok, Chicago’s the, “Murder Capital” of our society but alas,
Is there any truth to less gun violence if certain bills pass?
Tougher sentences & extended penalties with stiffer fines,
Enough of time off for good-behavior do every bit of time.

Julian Harris told the Sun-Times culprits shot at him first,
He escaped unharmed while his nephew received the worst,
3 are in critical condition with 10 reported serious or fair,
So late at night what in the heck was a toddler doing there?

Looking back at Delbert (88) Belton and Christopher (22) Lane,
In a car, jogging alongside a road now playing a basketball game,
All innocent victims to say the least but notice it is not confined,
First offense or not, a conviction of CCW requires serious time.

A gun’s no more dangerous than a car when the vehicle’s parked,
An idiot behind the wheel is dangerous in daylight & in the dark,
Police officials declined to discuss details of the investigation so far,
One thing’s certain, it involves 2 deadly instruments, a gun & a car.

Shooting hoops at, “Back Of The Yards” before this incident begins,
Was there anyone in Chicago on the lookout for George Zimmerman?
The city’s, “Labor Day Weekend” 20 were injured while 8 fell dead,
NAACP is still crying foul about Sanford, Fla. I’m shaking my head.
Luke Easter

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To Conjure Up

I went absent leaving you for Chicago
The hotel became a hospital
I signed my committal form at reception

At the Sears Tower in the elevator,
A silver walled room, powered by jet engines
Thrust me with strangers to the 110th floor

From this height through the windows - the lights
In the towers of the city, the moving lights
Of traffic and street lights still, far below.

A snowy cloud passed across the window, dimming
The scene of the black and the lights and the towers
With you missing I could only conjure you up.
And then I said: I will give you all of this city

Below us from this mad height if you bow down
And adore me. I bow down and adore you by the waters
of Lake Michigan breaking and breaking in waves without salt

And she said: I will bow down and adore you.
So I gave her the city
With pleasure I gave her the city of Chicago
Kevin Kiely

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Chicago Dog

The Chicago style hot dog is
An all beef frankfurter cooked done,
Steamed, boiled or grilled the vendors' biz,
Then put on a poppy seed bun.
Yellow mustard is put on top,
With green sweet pickle relish near.
Then add some white onions, chop, chop,
Tomato slice, dill pickle spear,
Just a dash of celery salt.
Dragged through the garden, so to speak.
But use ketchup, and face the fault
For react havoc that would wreak.

One is living high on the hog,
Chowing down a Chicago dog.
Ima Ryma

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'Shoe Shine Boy'

Chicago train station, midst their porcelain tunnels
You would hear this young voice cry.
' Shine! ', 'Fifty cents! '
As daily commuters rushing home would pass on by.

Sitting on a shoeshine box
In the cold dim of this porcelain maize.
While down a bit, was a man who would sit
and on his torn violin, some old time tunes he'd play.

These sounds are as I remember them
of an era long now passed.
While at that time, I thought these days
cries of a shoe shine boy
and violin old time music would last.

How naive was I then, to have ever thought this way
for all eventually will fade from view.
I shall always remember, the cries of the shoe shine boy
and the violins oldtime songs, of the Chicago that I knew.
Linda Winchell

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Poems On / About CHICAGO