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Poems On / About CHICAGO  9/20/2014 6:55:33 AM
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Best Poems About / On CHICAGO
 
 
 
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  333.     

Paramita

Life is a dance
in an unknowing universe-
without an audience.
So we must give life
it’s perfect meaning,
for God cannot.

Do not protest,
for no one listens.
Cry and cry
in the darkness.
Be brave.
Be quiet.


(2007, Chicago/Someone took this poem and created a picture with it, without my knowledge. If you want to see the picture, put 'Fred Babbin poetry' into a search engine, and click on 'Flickrs'.)
 
Fred Babbin

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  334.     

Rain on Route-66

The rain was pouring down
On the road as we drove along
And as we drove we whistled
That cheerful Route-66 song

Everything sparkled and glistened
As down the wet road we rode
Enjoying the highway countryside
As the landscape quickly flowed

From Chicago to Los Angeles
This highway had been named
In the year nineteen-twenty six
It was a road that gathered fame

A need to connect rural and urban
This highway definitely did the trick
Now it’s become historic
To take the drive is quite a kick

So much to see along the way
It will bring to you a smile
So take the time and cruise along
Put aside everything for awhile

And as you sail along, folks
Think of how it began awhile back
Keep your cameras ready
Amazing pictures you’ll want to snap!
 
Marilyn Lott

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  335.     

To Allen Ginsberg

I have been listening to you, Allen Ginsberg
I can still hear you whistling a radio tune
I can follow you through history thoughts of yours
flow into mine
I follow you past WWI
and through the Battle of Versailles without a second glance
Past Hitler Mao Nietzsche Reagan Gogol
past Whitman Kerouac and Carson
I watch as you nod to Ghandi
And converse with Pope Paul VI and Nelson Mandala
We drift past Central Park quickly changing seasons
past Chicago streets and cute little back country California homes
I watch the death of many a thing beside you
i watch you connect you think you
Writing Howl, writing America, writing Death & Fame
I watch yourself deteriorate in body
but flourish in mind
and as you flourish i flourish
And we grow together and I follow you
and then you vanish
into the grape vines at the back of the fence
 
Lex Newman

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  336.     

December, Mid-Day

On this day that has lost its mindfulness
Of blossom and aromatic fecundity
Of casual life, splurging its vitality
On birdsong and squirrelish chatter,
I am waiting for a break in the clouds.

This day has long since lost
A fresh blanket of snow to the
Skirlling tires and plodding pedestrians
Huddled in down and Dacron
As they battle the Chicago chill.

The streets resemble the bottom
Of a Pickwickian gruel bowl, grey
And slimy - none to appetizing -
Warmth drained (though every mouth
Smokes out exhausted air) .

I am left staring at the sky,
Hoping the ubiquitous dinge
Is just fleeting, despite the memories
Of similar Decembers unnumbered.
We are left to cower in the slush.
 
Robert J Meyer

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Poems On / About CHICAGO