Tag Archives: city

POEM: Infinite City

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In my dream, the city stretched out
beyond what I could see.
Colorful concrete pillbox roofs
spread to infinity.

Oh, such an infinite city
must have some great allure.
Miracles, mysteries, mayhem,
and madness - that's for sure.

What secrets reside behind those
thick and dampening slabs?
What unknown fortunes have been lost,
that now are up for grabs?

How many souls are lost right now?
Panic starting to rise.
How many will be found in time
due to those spying eyes? 

There's some magic in this city,
I'm sure that there must be.
For everything can happen when
you stretch to infinity.

POEM: The River Running through this City

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I roam the old city,
gazing at Gothic gargoyles
and touching stonework
made by men long since dead,

wondering how I ended up 
in this chunk of time, 
rather than 

one in which 
this land was all just 
forest or marshland,

or

one in which
we all wait amid the rubble
to blast off 
to some secondary hive of humanity.

DAILY PHOTO: A Dreary Day in Atlanta

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Taken in February of 2012 at Peachtree & Decatur in Atlanta

DAILY PHOTO: Typical Thailand: Tuk-Tuk, Taxi, & a C-Store

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Taken in Bangkok in September of 2014

DAILY PHOTO: Overlooking Puno

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Taken about ten years ago in Puno, Peru (on the shore of Titicaca.)

POEM: City Noir

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Neon-fired

Rippling lights,

churning & flashing,

colors dancing off the walls,

pooling & spinning into each other

Oh, how the colors glisten on wet pavement

POEM: The Sprawl

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cities grow outward
like angry amoeba —
false-feet stretching down
the motorway corridors,
and developing tumors
that will metastasize
into cities of their own,
sprawling until they span
the global petri dish

DAILY PHOTO: Streets of Manhattan

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Taken in New York City in August of 2008.

POEM: Insomniac City

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Cities pretend to sleep.
They fool us.
Eyes close.
Darkness settles.
In the deep of the night,
a city is like a kindergartener during nap time —
fidgety and mischievous.

When Tokyo’s trains shut down at midnight,
far from hibernating in suspended animation,
the city traps people in a dimension
that most people never see —
a headachy, eye-rubbing,
fuzzy-minded
land of waking dreams.

A Few Indian City Senryū

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I
crossing the street
in Bangalore traffic —
never more alive

 

II
even in wee hours,
if I hear only silence,
I know I’m asleep

 

III
random backstreet:
yet, more color than a
carnival midway