|Best Poems About / On CHICAGO
(Written during the Jubilee at Chicago)
While thousands throng each crowded mart,
And gaze around in mute surprise,
I turn with an adoring heart
To thee, fair mirror of the skies.
Yet not in silence can I pour
My full heart out, fair Lake, to thee,
So, humbly kneeling on thy shore,
I chant thy praise, my Jubilee.
The purple clouds are all drawn back
From heaven's blue vault, that I may trace
Its distant verge, its shining track
Held to thy heart in close embrace.
The roseate flush that tinged the sky
Has slowly turned to burnished gold,
And every wave that hurries by
Clasps all of sunlight it can hold.
I saw thee not, Lake Michigan,
When all aglow a sheet of flame;
When forth the frenzied people ran
To shriek for help to- call thy name.
Chicago, thine own cherished bride,
Thou mightst not succor couldst not save;
But fettered lay as flames spread wide
And scooped for her a yawning grave.
The loss was ours; we mourned with thee
That she should fall, a nation mourned;
Nor deemed we then we e'er should see
Her hopes restored, her strength returned.
'Forever lost, forever gone! '
Came through thy murmuring wavelets' swell;
' Forever lost, forever gone! '
We echoed back, her funeral knell.
Yet now, so soon, a wondering throng
Crowd to thy shore in hushed surprise,
And there behold (grand theme for song)
Chicago, Phcenix-like, arise.
A world lamented when she fell,
And now, 'neath turret, tower, and dome,
A multitude of voices tell
Her year of Jubilee has come.
Chicago, City of the Lake,
Bride of this lovely inland sea,
Thy resurrection-glories wake
A dream of what thou yet shalt be.
Undaunted in thy darkest hour,
Thyself hast brought the awakening dawn;
Thy energy has been the power
That led, and still shall lead thee on.
Read more poems from Kate Harrington >>>
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
Read more poems from Kevin Kiely >>>
Rogers Park, Chicago,
This brilliant winter morning finds
waves of snow on every lawn
and red graffiti dripping
from the walls
of Temple Mizpah
as down the street
stroll ancient men
who every morning
shuffle here for prayer.
As usual, they're lost
inside old overcoats,
their collars up,
their scarves too long,
This morning, though,
they don't go in.
They shuffle near the curb
They can't believe
the goose-step scrawl
on every wall.
They know their world's
awry again, an encore
of the chaos left behind
when they were young.
The good thing is,
Chicago's better now
than was Berlin back then
even though the temple walls
make clear this morning that
someone's struck another match
and the ovens of Auschwitz
are crackling again.
Read more poems from Donal Mahoney >>>
Sunset From Omaha Hotel Window
Into the blue river hills
The red sun runners go
And the long sand changes
And to-day is a goner
And to-day is not worth haggling over.
Here in Omaha
The gloaming is bitter
As in Chicago
The long sand changes.
To-day is a goner.
Time knocks in another brass nail.
Another yellow plunger shoots the dark.
Wheeling over Omaha
As in Chicago
The long sand is gone
and all the talk is stars.
They circle in a dome over Nebraska.
Read more poems from Carl Sandburg >>>
Read more: river poems, red poems, dark poems, sunset poems, sun poems, time poems, change poems, star poems