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Poems On / About CHICAGO  7/10/2014 6:53:19 AM
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##38 (Vivekananda) Arrival at Chicago

Swami Vivekananda’s train
Reached Chicago Station
Late in the evening time.
None came to receive him.

He had lost the address
Of the head of delegates,
And there was no one
To give him information.

In that strange foreign land,
None gave a helping hand.
As his dress appeared peculiar,
They took him as a wanderer.

On the sidewalk, he sat.
A lady saw his pitiable plight
Gave him food and shelter,
As her guest of honor.

Mrs. George W. Hale was
That kind lady, his hostess,
Who took him to the Office
Of Parliament of Religions.

Dr. J.H. Barrows was
One of her friends.
As well as the President
Of that Parliament.

The President invited him
To represent Hinduism
And he was then free from
The admission problem

Both the kind hearted families
Of Hale and John B Lyons
Became his lifelong friends
And he stayed in their house.

It was the mercy of God
That, in fact, guided
This well deserving soul,
For his ‘ever-sincere’ role.

Amidst all his difficulties
There came many helpers
As if it was pre-planned
Always by the will of God.
Rajaram Ramachandran

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most of my friends who went to Chicago
on care giving jobs
finally left for good the marriage
they had in the Philippines,
just this morning i had a chat with a
close friend whose husband had her
declared presumptively dead in court
so he can marry another,
she says it's a trend
marriages are bound to be broken
vows have no meaning
she did not mind at all if she is
'dead' to him and to the law,
she too has a man of her own now
a work to attend to,
another summer vacation in California
and in Paris sometime
this April,
and then she enumerates other names
who marriages are
it is not that time is cruel, it is just that
with money now,
they are free to find love
(and lust) .
so long, i may meet other names.

Read more poems from RIC S. BASTASA >>>



Aner Clute

Over and over they used to ask me,
While buying the wine or the beer,
In Peoria first, and later in Chicago,
Denver, Frisco, New York, wherever I lived,
How I happened to lead the life,
And what was the start of it.
Well, I told them a silk dress,
And a promise of marriage from a rich man --
(It was Lucius Atherton).
But that was not really it at all.
Suppose a boy steals an apple
From the tray at the grocery store,
And they all begin to call him a thief,
The editor, minister, judge, and all the people --
"A thief," "a thief," "a thief," wherever he goes.
And he can't get work, and he can't get bread
Without stealing it, why, the boy will steal.
It's the way the people regard the theft of the apple
That makes the boy what he is.
Edgar Lee Masters

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Read more: marriage poems, people poems, work poems, life poems



Ash Wednesday

I stood inside
a majestic cathedral
in the heart of Chicago.
The sun broke away
from the clouds
and the stain glass windows
of saints and martyrs gleamed.
The place was pack
with office workers,
mothers with children,
old people, young people
the homeless, the lost,
the dignitaries and hypocrites.
I stood among them,
the choir sang Ave Maria
before silence
greeted the Cardinal
as he limped towards
the marble podium,
he stretched his arms out
and we listened
to the Cardinal
proclaim without hesitation
what we wanted to forget
but he said it anyway,
'We will all be dead
in the next 70 years, '
A small child about four
turned to his mother
and said, 'not me '
still ashes to ashes
we will become
if not within 70 years
than maybe in 71…
Charles Lara

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Read more: people poems, silence poems, children poems, child poems, mother poems, lost poems, sun poems
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Poems On / About CHICAGO