sketched.skyscrapehigh.wastelands

By verablue

Sunday: 8:48pm:
These city streets are especially ripe tonight.
The jagged shape of your hip-hop winding its way through.
My ears.
Into my stream of rhythmic words.
Sketched into my thoughts.
Breaking any trace of flow
Turning signals out...

Scattered. And static.

I try to twist your sidewalks pungent tapestry into beauty.
A flash of rich colours to choose from.
But all that stares back is carnage.

This filthy city's public urinal.

And I’d rather not write of such a wasteland.
But there’s no question in my mind tonight.
There are no deeper revelations to be found.

Tonight I have to scratch away the surface of ugly.
Just to catch a glimpse.

just a glimpse of your starving history.

Scratching.
And scraping.
And scratching...
Digging deeper.

And still nothing.
Not even a whisper.

Sunday: 10:27pm:
Sometimes I hate this place

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Published on Monday, November 6, 2006. Filed under: "Poetry"

Comments on "sketched.skyscrapehigh.wastelands"

On Thursday, July 7, 2011, carlosjackal (2788) wrote:

This snapshot...Fuck, just expressed so well. Yeah, you captured that feeling we try to deny..That sometimes the place we've chosen as home isn't what it is when the rose-tinted glasses are taken off.
On Tuesday, November 7, 2006, Alanarchy (1168) wrote:

Every town has it's own distinct tastes and smells. And they all have their moments of beauty, even in the middle of all the garbage and cracked pavement. On the other end of the spectrum, we find this write. Every town is a place for someone to die, a
On Tuesday, November 7, 2006, Alanarchy (1168) wrote:

and for culture to go to waste. I definately enjoyed this piece. There's alot of poetry traversing every sidewalk. Thanks, and write on.
A former member wrote: The stench of piss! This reminds me of a ProPain song... I love it! Ah, to wallow in in the dung of city refuse... you capture the ugliness that beckons me from afar. I like the way the reader is forced, through brief metaphors, to empathize with your dis
A former member wrote: disdain, your pain, while taking on the characteristics of vermin, in the end... I feel rat like as I read; the whisper may even conjure connotations of christmas--nothing was stirring not even a ... possibly a subtle stab at capitalism bred in urban swea
A former member wrote: sweatshops... gorgeous depiction of what can be completely despairing
On Tuesday, November 7, 2006, The Zebra Warrior (1495) wrote:

yes..I agree!!
On Monday, November 6, 2006, Anth (1126) wrote:

whitman had his countryside and you have your wastelands, this was like howl dragged through dirty needle parks, a grimy yet beautiful poem like rain in scorcese films
On Monday, November 6, 2006, urbanhumility (1158) wrote:

urban....and cold....it takes talent to traverse the city...and truly notice...............spoken so well.........urban
On Monday, November 6, 2006, Six-Out (1423) wrote:

It's amazing how one can find the words to make beauty out of something you hate. Something you loathe. The place we live inspires us so, doesn't it? Another supurb piece.