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Poems On / About CHICAGO  10/31/2014 2:12:40 PM
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Best Poems About / On CHICAGO
 
 
 
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  333.     

my darling

my love for her always boils down to
money, credit and ATM cards, and
trips and vacations,
expensive clothes, and flashy cars
and a modern house
in the suburbia

she slides
my ATM card, relies on my credit card,
and plans my trip to islands with white sands
and expensive margaritas

she imagines the next trip
in Hongkong, Singapore, Thailand
China,
and Austria, and i jokingly add
the North Pole
just to check how white are the glaciers
and how warm is it
inside the igloo

and the United States of America
Las Vegas, and Texas
and visit some of her friends
in Chicago and California
not to mention her New Yorker
friend from Tondo

expensive dreams of my darling
but i do not really mind,
she will soon pay for all of them


you bet.
 
RIC S. BASTASA

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  334.     

To John J. Knickerbocker, Jr.

Whereas, good friend, it doth appear
You do possess the notion
To his awhile away from here
To lands across the ocean;
Now, by these presents we would show
That, wheresoever wend you,
And wheresoever gales may blow,
Our friendship shall attend you.

What though on Scotia's banks and braes
You pluck the bonnie gowan,
Or chat of old Chicago days
O'er Berlin brew with Cowen;
What though you stroll some boulevard
In Paris (c'est la belle ville!),
Or make the round of Scotland Yard
With our lamented Melville?

Shall paltry leagues of foaming brine
True heart from true hearts sever?
No--in this draught of honest wine
We pledge it, comrade--never!
Though mountain waves between us roll,
Come fortune or disaster--
'Twill knit us closer soul to soul
And bind our friendships faster.

So here's a bowl that shall be quaff'd
To loyalty's devotion,
And here's to fortune that shall waft
Your ship across the ocean,
And here's a smile for those who prate
Of Davy Jones's locker,
And here's a pray'r in every fate--
God bless you, Knickerbocker!
 
Eugene Field

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  335.     

Voice by Ray Subrata

Orators to public deliver their gift of the gab,
They fire emotion, exalt sense beyond map.

The politicians like toads praise their well,
Propagandize ism, and ring their bell.

Some leaders like shepherd lead their sheep,
Implement manifesto as they get their whip.

People take their words from stations of profit
Little they discriminate, how their lectures merit.

A saint’s pleasure graces people to rise,
From wintry slumber, and deadly demise.
Godly words tinged with beacon –light,
Dislodge, impel, move and set to flight.

Flowery oracles from distant land,
In a prophet’s voice finds rigid stand.
Strange beauty sprouts from our ionized devices,
A voice voices, and our divinity rises.

While Swami Vivekananda in Chicago addresses world religion,
A voice without form thunders, and creates cyclonic motion.
Those who have the experience, may recount,
Where he was before and where after himself he found.
 
Subrata Ray

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  336.     

Visit Me

Visit me at the Washingron Park in Chicago and,
You may probably meet President Obama around;
For the love of his muse is for the whole world.

To cherish a rich cultural heritage and values,
And to learn to live harmoniously with one another on this earth;
Because most of the introverts are attentive to the extroverts and vice versa,
And like the strong-willed and hard working people around the world to get along with you.

Visit me and learn from my muse,
For this park is like my home;
And it is very likely that you may meet President Obama as well.
 
Edward Kofi Louis

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Poems On / About CHICAGO