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Technicolor world  vehicles racing faster  streaks of bright colors    flowers on the side  showing their smiling faces  through the thick asphalt    hurried people walk 
The city was filled with fog and murk All I could see was white  All I could feel was a sharp winter breeze  But my palms perspired and my fingers trembled and my heart raced And I paced
Welcome, my bode. Enter beyond,  Seek the fond,  Who dare to lay,  Eyes too stray,  A kindle too hard, 
We were all babies. Nightcrawling through hometowns, Smoke filling our lungs and mirrors our greatest fear. Selling brains for the chance to fly. No. I was a coyote.
We were all babies. Nightcrawling through hometowns, Smoke filling our lungs and mirrors our greatest fear. Selling brains for the chance to fly. No. I was a coyote.
Streets with lanterns, Sidewalks with kids playing games,  Trash Cans with street cats. Shadows of it’s tall, old, french buildings.
There was once a moment        Where I was blinded by city lights, trampled by tall towers,    stepped on by city streetwalkers,       And all of it seemed so small in comparison. 
We've had an invasion Blazing horns Glaring lights Rocketing music The city has risen Farewell to the pastoral Now it is skyscrapers Blocking the moon and my stars
In our world ..  .. .. If you keep in touch with it,  you can feel others bleed. You can see what they see. It’s not make believe  
No sleep. No water. Dry mouth seems to be the onluy taste available. No reach or want for what is close. Only hardships are available. Thee isn't much around in this deserted place we call home.
Bus people really have a lot of time to think.. Weary, they are always on the brink of knowing what's it's all about. Bumping, heaving,  sleeve-to-sleeving their way to work. Yearning to be back in bed, learning they are spiritually dead.. And all
the echo of strings from the busy street it rings as rosiny dust fills the air a melody, calm, slow, almost still a lone pigeon stops to stare    
Traveling is a part of who I am A search of me In a place I've never seen Weather buildings or the jungle I find myself in bundles I explore sandy beaches and towns where I am faceless
She was lost In New York City And had nowhere to go. There was people everywhere Going up and down the unending sidewalk
Remember those nights. Fire escapes and city lights. Unmade beds and endless talks. Counting the stars and throwing rocks.   Running around busy streets. Wind in our hair and shoes on our feet.
Even the rainbows seem gray      in this puddle we call Elmira Slushy in winter, sticky in summer I wish I could feel safe at night Mark Twain is buried here      and his ghost continues to haunt us
The city bright and sweet Reflecting the drops of rain The paved stones glitter with amusement   Usually alive but now slowly dying
They're too fast They speak of things I don't understand Their lips are quick but their minds are slow here  I would rather be there  Here the harrowing hardships are fast  Not slow enough to listen   
The air is cool and inviting The mosquitoes suck at my succulent skin Rejoicing at the soft and limber limbs I possess Streetlights illuminate my smile As I witness a young child snoozing in a stroller
Dear Reader, here's a poem about home. i hope you enjoy. Rushing cars, aging scars. Honking horns and corner stores. People to and fro, not even a single hello? Text and call, bump and scowl.
Concrete jungles and, Life without struggles Hunting for cuisine with, Sharpened green Traveling rolling canoes on, Dark gray routes
I saw this man alone in the brisk cold; He wore an eskimo hat to keep warm. A passing girl praised the hat, and behold- The man offered it to her, against norm.
She never knew what I was doing Cuz I was rebuilding the city Rebuilding the city Taking everything with me Rebuilding the city now another man got ya And the thangs that I got
So silent, yet so alive.  Pitch black is the night, with flickers of stars illuminating the heavens.  Neighbor's dim their lights to slumber, yet their aura manifests their presence as a continuity. 
So silent, yet so alive.  Pitch black is the night, with flickers of stars illuminating the heavens.  Neighbor's dim their lights to slumber, yet their aura manifests their presence as a continuity. 
I drove through the city today.The one you always tell me about.The old bricks seemed to scream your name.And my heart, it burned hotter than the forges of the factory fires.I wish I could tell you about it.
I once felt the grass under my feet. I could feel the vibrancy radiate through me higher than the skyscrapers covering today’s skies.
Twilight snuck up on daylight Like a hunter to its prey Replacing light with shadows Painting the city in shades of grey
Snot in my nose, im feeling young but still carry the love for the downtown flow and the downtown cold, the city has a charm  early morning hustle  well alarmed and prepared to cause trouble, it was nothing
I look over the city watching the void of my lifethe birds can escapebut, can I?
A unique coral reef called The Streets. Rapid shuffling of feet and millions of heart beats.  unusual things can be seen  similar to objects found within Grand Theft Auto cheats.
Steam rises from underneath the sidewalks. 
The pounding of the drum at the end of the percussion line resonates through the air. The powerful vibrations tickle my skin when standing too close, The steady bam, bam, bam echoes through the quiet room.
They lined the station like tchotchkes placed in careful disarray, Here between F and 13th, Red cheeked and frosted breath, Bare porcelain angels waiting on the shelf of a Goodwill.
They have their hand in the air The ones with the black suits and briefcases stride forward Confident The others seam to fall forward Their hand raised in a call for balance
Street lights Cars Racing New people Parks Just where I want to be  
If not for hands and feeling I would have been blind, just a women being led by her lover Summer had come and wrenched out the sweet smells of earth from the dirt Flowers had long bloomed over 
I suppose I would like You to know that I am sorry. That’s how all apologies and the like are supposed to begin, With that admission of guilt or regret or something that tastes like bile
The sidewalk that lies Underneath my feet says, "some words last longer than the breath that carries them" And I find myself distracted As we walk downtown. I sip my drink and think
A small bright shine and a short blink; Embracing her lips of shades so pink; Cheeks so alive as poeple rushing; Was she shy or was she blushing? Only saw her for a second each;
"I hate this city," she told me one day.
The glistening yellow orb ascents, Immersing the venerable city in radiating warmth, Basking the antediluvian buildings in a soft light, Commencing a new day in Alexandria.
The smell of honeysuckle budding  The view of a once lively countryside now abandoned  The sounds of young children laughter that once filled the air Is now the sounds of loneliness and despair
Two feet slap hard on the black pavement. The blur of the city scape flashes by Forcing my eye to watch the bustling people, to watch to rustling people,
  City of grunge City of decay                             City of aspiration   Maybe just the start forget the past            likewise look to the future  
Although I've never been a fan of foreign touch, seas of person pull me under with a swaying current. Escape your head,crawl out of your mind,temporal lobe knows what's best right now.  Outside Los Angeles is itching to start her nightly routine o
What death has become me? Concrete depths towards nothing. Consuming the delicious earth hallowed out by passege ways of metal and fire. Electricity Dirt and  Trash.
I remember when you walked into the room Your eyes touched mine, then flicked away without a second glance Honestly i didn't know anything could be so good Then you spoke and my world crashed and scattered
outside a man in a suit whistles    Briefcase set on sunbaked sidewalks  
Stupendously surreptitiousInnuendo on the rocks.Deliciously denigrated,Drunken with the fox.Imbibed and steeped like Earl Grey,Steaming under the white collarOf studio-excellent executivism.
I felt the burly city too,Of brick and horns and sirens,Of rusty metal and broken glass,Of monolithic stone reachingFor the underside of space,And despite the raw strength of it all
He saw the cloudsand took his umbrellaon his sleepy carousel liferound and roundup and downeighty floors highto eradicate his stack of papersbefore his noon expedition
Nature likes citieskeeps man stackedon top of each otherout of her wayso she can roam freein fields and mountainsdown gentle streams .
  Many hearts will come and FALL BUT MY greed will remain steady       Cypress Delva   Residing by the wayside The breeze whispering on my face
I saw you lying prostrate in your bed of bones and crumbs
I can hear the noise of kids playing; I can hear the murmurs of evangelical Christians praying.  I hear an ambulance siren trying to save a life. I hear drug dealers negotiating their price. 
City Lights, Valley low Watching through all the snow From this highway where I stand Twinching fingers, aprehensive hand   City Lights, how you glow Twinkling dots put on a show
8/19/12, age 18   At five years old, my hometown seemed like Wonderland, Countertops that towered over me, the aroma of baked goods Infiltrating the crowded sidewalks, coercing me to want a taste.
It's a big world for sure. There's no doubt about that And honestly, that's ok.  Except for my loneliness.   What with the world being so big.
She's that white girl, you know, the one with the green eyes. Everytime someone sees her there's a look of surprise She's a white girl living in the city She knows how to get down and gritty
Feed a pigeon,Breed a rat.A survivor is born.One for one.
Absence of Sound The avoidance to mention a single word
on the corner of Madison and Wells, a ghost with a gray cotton tee and tattered jeans saw my red lace dress and started deer hunting. he wasn’t timid, only lanky, and gripped the ground 
You are quickly blinded by light, as your ears are blasted by noise. It even dazzles during the night, and captures you in its joys'.   The city never sleeps, as Frank Sinatra once said.
New York City, The city of plenty. Fresh, exuberant, The words surround me.   New York City, The lights glimmering. Vibrant, vivid, Life full of meaning.   New York City,
The perfect skyline Promises all the mystery and beauty
In the forest you can hear the whisper A bright whsper of a stream The calming mutter 
Oneida says she's out of timefor mining lies from crooked mindsand spending nights     beneath strange blanketsstreet-to-street, tab at a time.
A few streets down away from this perfected outer shell of blissful indulgence that we have created lies a city of distorted faces, starvation, violence.  
Chicago a city full Of industrial mountains and people with Hope.   Wind, storms, and Fires touch the city. But the Passion, Support, and Hope Never Dies.  
The city i live in the city i represent Big,windy,beautiful full of life So many people so many personalities
Paradise sits on the mountainside Towering buildings of all size Where the water rolls and glides Up on this city of mine   Towering buildings of all size
Summer rays burn,
City girl With a country heart Walks outside To her back yard,                   Looks up And sees jet streaks Left in the sky At night. Too fast. Looking up
No time to think about what to do, everyone is screaming
do you know the unluckiest man in the world ?
    Neighborhoods don't improve.
I return lack-lustered from the quarry, back busted. My wife’s over yonder folding
How I envy you, wanderer, how I envy your every move, your every emotion, your every thought. How I envy your paradise to have the stars themselves cover you as you wander eternally. 
I sit in the undying city surrounded by cement and concrete and metal. No one lives here, not really. They walk through their day alone, counting the living things they see On the fingers of two hands.  
Streets riotous with enervate feet Shrouded faces scurrying pass.
The city pulses with life  crowds fighting their way down sidewalks  throngs of cars inching their way down streets.   Lights glow above everyone's heads and the tops of buildings reach for the sky.  
  The hustle and bustle of the city Fills you ears, eyes and nose. You see the chains of cars inching forward Slowly – one at a time. You smell the putrid odor of sewage
Let the rain come down And so I walk through town I let the rain pour As I walk about the shore They drip down from my face the tears hidden by my grace Let it come down Let it all come down
How different the city lights look
A cold world Living in a cold world Seeing things you don't want to see
Look outside. Do you see it? The Crumbling World. The air turning wiked, scheming to suffocate our lungs. Bodies of water regurgitating our filth. The Crumbling World.
Concrete black and city light fireflies   And the sound of converse losing tread on the sidewalk   The sounds of vulgarity and the cries of passion   And the smell of blood and the sight of luxury
The bitter bite of the frosty cold flakes dance on eyelashes and nip at noses The crystal white city on a snow covered night   twinkling evergreens tower over, bathed in bright light and the glitter of fresh snow
  Racing around the bustling city people line the main road that runs for miles Dodgeing traffic As mothers and fathers repetitively drag their kids to school to go work long
Peeved delivery truck drivers Honk and beep at each other Grumbling About the nightmares of rush hour Over the harsh babble of cars   Empty beer bottles crack
I've seen the dirty city's heart Through battered train windows revealed by the peachy gaze of a streetlamp army are countless streets and neighborhoods each made up of infinite detail
There's one thing I love about The City. Not the crowds, Not the lights, Not sounds, But the rain. It starts out Soft, Barely a whisper. And then it grows And grows
My friend and I were talking one day and he asked me, "What do you think about the state of downtown?" I thought about this question for a second and said...
sometimes i walk barefoot in the streets of queens the smell of wet cement is all but too familiar to me pile of dog shit on the sidewalk gum stuck to my filthy native feet
A day. 24 hours. 1,440 minutes. 84,600 seconds. So many things can change. shift. evolve. dissolve. resolve.  Revolve around useless emotions and empty words. Who you were at 8am is not who you are at 8pm.
Shinning brighter than the stars,I watch the lights blink on, one by one.Sitting on the cold grass, under a blanket of dark,The view across the water humbles me. I watch the lights blink on, one by one.Some colorful, some just plain white.The view
The sky looked down on fields of grey, the blood of towers drifting onto a concrete street A street, nothing more, a street cold and dead, weeped from the loss of thousands.
Each day is just a gift, That's why we call it present, That's why each day we smile, And think things are so pleasant.  But deep beneath the surface, Lies all the living secrets,
The air smothered in smog The birds don't sing like they used to. Then again, it's not surprising, must have the Memphis blues.  The echoing screams in the streets Children crying in the background
Growing older, growing taller,Watching all the people prosper.At that point I saw that cityFlourish under browning branches.  
  What goes on in the city From the windows of icy apartments Filled with the eyes of those looking out And those being watched   Can they see us, seeing them Jealousy rushing in our sockets
Peeling scales in rosetta geometry down the rail Slick tile bearings, cigarette stained Haughty men (women too) locked in iron stride Shoulder brash against shoulder Stench one way, perfume another
Hartford is a storm. Hartford is a rainbow.   Hartford is a concrete rose garden That when the sun washes over the streets They grow.
Sunlight burns through large, green treesCars begin to replace all the beesOnly thing living is people like meAs a breathe is inhaled in this great city.
Metal giants towering,the music of history overpowering.The wonderland that goes by many names,its hidden treasure… a chance at fame.LIGHTS! The lights of the big stage are blinding,
The teacher says write, So I write. But I don't really want to. I want to play in the street In the night While the roar of the city Drowns out the cries of the lost and the weary.
Out there, far past rail road tracks and turnpikes A winding space that roils and roams and runs free. No blocks or segregations, just Green.
Fast moving, Cars zooming. Buildings towering, Ever empowering. Ships gliding, Tour guiding. Ever improving, Always booming.
I look out across the dingy city. Towers loom over the filthy streets, the roads, broken, have no destination, and the street signs, blank, give no direction.
You're hot then you're cold, you play with me. Make me dream big things within your limits. They tell me you're bad, corrupt and dirty but I like everything about you I'll leave you soon, I tell everyone
I see something different. Instead of filthy streets and broken down cities, I see art. The world is a sculpture. Every single piece carefully, and articulately placed. Every piece of trash
Never ending Everlasting Wondrous Yellow Outrageous Rainy Kindling That is where I wish to be New York, New York.
needle's talking ninety, meter shaking from the volume, windows pulse and this beat-- strands whip over my eyes, windows low and this breeze.
Buildings rise to heaven unconstrained Leaving the unexplained disappearance of the sun and moon My boots beat against the dirty, wet sidewalk after last night's rainfall.
The fresh scent of urine and city musk shot up to my nostrils as we got off of the overly crowded F train. Heavenly scent.
The ride down to Canal takes a really long time Especially when you swipe the card and ride the 6 line. Stop after stop Enter and Exit Ages range from ancient to infant Strollers Bikes And bags
I listen to You speak, And I know You’re with me. I’ve been rescued from the peak And from the unending sea.
Urban streets, bustling with life in bright afternoons, Become quiet and cool on cloudy days and early nights-- A barren wasteland without thrum of foot traffic And screams of emergency sirens.
Over such a vast expanse of suburban sprawl a warm aura of sunset orange radiates from each roof, Houses, just actors in the scene of their surroundings, A distant city as the backdrop.
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