Poems About: CHICAGO
Poems on / about :
- carpe diem
325.Happy Rita and Pleasant Bob
Rita with her happy smile,
wears stylish jewelry with lots of style.
Born in the windy city of Chicago in 1933,
Her father was a tenor in the Metropolitan Opera Company. read more »Christina Sunrise
326.On The Early English Poem The Ruin
Mile-wide ruin of a city,
ruin of a town,
told tales fragmented,
your lost poet foiled, read more »Sally Evans
327.St Patricks Day
March 17th is one of the best days of the year.
In Chicago the river was as green as grass.
The Irish were celebrating like it was their job.
Everyone in my family was together having a blast. read more »Mike Kearney
The television show
Hosted by Charles Kuralt
And now Charles Osgood
Is a weekly meditation read more »Jim Boone
329.Me and My Pony
Me and my pony hooked up on the Chicago Eastside and went for a ride,
we grabbed a corndog in Springfield and pulled our way on to Route 66.
In Oklahoma we sat with an Indian chief, watching movies while lovers kissed,
and turned a collar to a Cadillac ranch in Amarillo, blue lips and fresh Texas snow. read more »Alexander Downie
When I think of the term class act,
There's no one larger than Mr. T.
From the south side of Chicago,
When the streets were awfully mean. read more »Robert Edgar Burns
Like a painting by Velazquez
A woman stands
Alone in the frame read more »Dilip Chitre
332.Waggle and Jounce
Out on the lake
the whitecaps leap,
old lions shot in midair.
Not far from the water read more »Donal Mahoney
333.Welcome To The World
My heart is pounding at the speed of a drum
Almost as hard and fast as the vibration of my phone
Phone calls from family members all across Chicago
Worries, cries, sobbers, and tears fill my ears read more »Lee Lopez
334.NO more SUNSHINE
A new morning arrives but I can't see the sun rise.
All I see is the darken clouds in my light-less skies.
Heavy rain pours down from the clouds on my worn surface
Lighten strike thunder roars another hard hit to embrace read more »LoKis White
335.The Great Fire of Ingersoll
'Twas on a pleasant eve in May.
Just as the sun shed its last ray,
The bell it rang, citizens to warn,
For lo ! a fire appears in barn. read more »James McIntyre
I walked down jazz alleys rolling cigarettes
and a head filled with typewriter dreams,
silently praying to sidewalk Gods
for the inhaling of coconut rum, read more »Wolf Wandering