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Poems On / About CHICAGO  9/2/2014 11:35:25 PM
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Best Poems About / On CHICAGO
 
 
 
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  237.     

The Red Flag

The people's flag is deepest red
It shrouded oft our martyred dead
And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold
Their hearts' blood dyed to every fold

Chorus:
Then raise the scarlet standard high
Beneath its folds we'll live and die
Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer
We'll keep the red flag flying here

Look round, the Frenchman loves its blaze,
The sturdy German chants its praise,
In Moscow's vaults its hymns are sung
Chicago swells the surging throng.

Chorus

It waved above our infant might
When all ahead seemed dark as night
It witnessed many a deed and vow
We must not change its colour now

Chorus

It well recalls the triumphs past
It gives the hope of peace at last
The banner bright, the symbol plain
Of human right and human gain

Chorus

It suits today the meek and base
Whose minds are fixed on pelf and place
To cringe beneath the rich man's frown
And haul that sacred emblem down

Chorus

With heads uncovered swear we all
To bare it onward till we fall
Come dungeons dark or gallows grim
This song shall be our parting hymn

Chorus
 
James Connell

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  238.     

Feeling Like Mike Hammer

I feel like Mike Hammer after the third or
fourth attack by a gunman in one day, I
feel all fatigued and evil, finding the noise
in my downtown Chicago just too much;
I need the care of an electrifying beauty
to restore me to my macho bravery

I want to solve this crime so I can reach
the last page and take a momentary
break before the next attacker come
again, I want to feel the joy of seeing
how the criminal pointing his gun at me
is gunned down himself by the hair-trigger

Rifle of the skeleton who had been killed
by him thirty years ago, then turn to Velda,
my life’s love, and show her where is
paradise…

Mickey Spillane “The Snake”
 
Robert Smith

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  239.     

A(nother) Night Without You

A) fragmented life story
interiority, if you will (i called this one 'alone')
your eyes provoke the night’s conscious panting,
a tangible thickness that collects ceaselessly on all four sides of a dimly lit room
and dries
your mouth, the canvas lampshade in the corner
that licks its lips and closes,
gathering each lonely fragment of the pale gold
into a haze that screams silently through the window
and dies

B) cause maybe I like it this way,
(this one 'a short story written in neon')
your love the bloody bird’s head in the middle
of the sidewalk
and mine the pristine corpse found in the street,

C) yourself,
('the rain in chicago' or 'awakening from a dream')
the overlooked blood in the streets
of a city where they walk the grimy
asphalt not noticing the rain
or each other,
their dreams, or
the gaudy framework they hang them from

D) eafening (or evastating)
either way you see the silence,
it’s still silence
I’ll still sneak out for a cigarette,
at 2: 35 am
and listen to the night air panting as you sleep
(this is too much for me
This is too much for me-e-e-e, me-e-e-e
E)
 
Matt Denis

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  240.     

TWO BALLS ONE CLOCK

1 Football game playing on Fox,
Has 1 quarter back with 2 balls, one clock
Against 22 balls running after
1 football running with a cock.
Can the team with the most gowl,
Take the 1 ball and win them all?
I don’t know,
But what a show
In the stadium at Chicago
70,000 nuts and all of them dicks,
Paid to freeze as popsicle sticks.
Half the audience is men with only 2 balls,
Saying can we make it to the Super Bowl?
Looks like I guess not,
Because all our balls shriveled up,
Green Bay really one us by a long shot!
By Christina Sunrise on Jan.23,2011
 
Christina Sunrise

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