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Poems On / About CHICAGO  10/1/2014 3:17:41 PM
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Best Poems About / On CHICAGO
 
 
 
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  333.     

GOING HOME ON THE NORTHERN PACIFIC

The way home for me was eastbound
on the Northern Pacific from California
riding coach (pillow furnished for a fee)
and reading paperback books -

everything from Robinson Jeffers
'...stones have stood for a thousand years,
and pained thoughts found the honey
of peace in old poems.'

to Denise Levertov's Illustrious Ancestors
'...poems direct as what the birds said,
hard as a floor, sound as a bench,
mysterious as the silence when the tailor
would pause with his needle in the air.'

even the obscure Ray Durem
'...I cannot find those mild and gracious words
to clothe the carnage.'

I got off when the train reached Chicago
a soldier home from the war
 
Michael Pruchnicki

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  334.     

Lambert Hutchins

I have two monuments besides this granite obelisk:
One, the house I built on the hill,
With its spires, bay windows, and roof of slate;
The other, the lake-front in Chicago,
Where the railroad keeps a switching yard,
With whistling engines and crunching wheels,
And smoke and soot thrown over the city,
And the crash of cars along the boulevard, --
A blot like a hog-pen on the harbor
Of a great metropolis, foul as a sty.
I helped to give this heritage
To generations yet unborn, with my vote
In the House of Representatives,
And the lure of the thing was to be at rest
From the never-ending fright of need,
And to give my daughters gentle breeding,
And a sense of security in life.
But, you see, though I had the mansion house
And traveling passes and local distinction,
I could hear the whispers, whispers, whispers,
Wherever I went, and my daughters grew up
With a look as if some one were about to strike them;
And they married madly, helter-skelter,
Just to get out and have a change.
And what was the whole of the business worth?
Why, it wasn't worth a damn!
 
Edgar Lee Masters

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Read more: house poems, city poems, change poems, life poems, daughter poems, car poems, travel poems
   
 

   
   
 

  335.     

Who's In

Some of us lost before
the game was even over
like my buddy who took a spill
on his motorcycle in August
and snapped his neck
on a curb off Halsted Street
or my close high school friend
that grew apart with years
before the night when the
Cubs won the division and
his wife decided to
plunged a kitchen knife
into his heart for dramatic effect
then there was Billie
who lived in a tree house
one hot Chicago summer
before he had enough and walked over
to the Ike expressway and leaped
into the path of a speeding semi-truck
didn’t have a chance to survive
a bad decision like the neighborhood whore
who at the age of 26 felt it was easier
to place a.357 magnum
in her mouth and pull the trigger
or my grade school acquaintance
who choked on his food because he yelled
at his mother why she served him some more
some of us lost before the game was over
Now let me ask you, are you still in?
 
Charles Lara

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Read more: school poems, august poems, food poems, lost poems, summer poems, house poems, tree poems, friend poems, mother poems, night poems
   
 

   
   
 

  336.     

We May Be Little

We may be little, not to tall,
but the love we share is above all.
To be little is just fine,
if I were tall I'd run, and hide.
Short people are here to stay,
so giants get out of our way.
Trampled in life by big people's laughs, because they think we are so small,
they think they are so smart, just because they are tall.
Ha! ! I say to these giants, for short is all right,
and if they don't like us because of our height,
We won't go down without a fight.
(I wrote this back when I was a teenager, and living in Chicago.
 
Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson

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Read more: smart poems, people poems, running poems
   
 
 
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Poems On / About CHICAGO