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A home without a wall, |
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A home without a wall, |
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| Open Poetry #20 |
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My Home Town (The Original 1999 Thread) |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA 
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Sign in, one and all!!!!! |
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| © Copyright 1999 Michael Mack - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
The bridge is for Ron...  Lone foghorns chanting Cape Cod's solitude. The dunes at rest beneath the autumn sky Envelop peaceful beaches once imbued. Bright foliage adorns the countryside, Surrounding sundried bogs of cranberries. This summer tourists' verdant welcome tide Now boasts majestic hues of burgundies. Synthetic lakes spew forth from each bog's moat Releasing berries for the harvest day, And bouyant crimson carpets lie afloat In just abeyance to be scooped away The ferries from Wood's Hole to Edgartown From Falmouth's harborfront over a mere Resplendent view of Martha's Vineyard Sound - "America the Beautiful" born here. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Hometowns are very special, by that now you know. Each one or more can and will, on you certainly grow. I’ve lived and stayed in many towns, traveling east to west now I’m in the middle, and certainly loving it best. Grew up in CA, where seasons failed to come, lived awhile in Illinois, then that time was done. Really enjoyed good ol’ Michigan, for the apples galore; then returned to CA ‘cause death was at the door. Happenstance and circumstance sent us then midwest now living in a “small town” where I really like it best. Have my cows out in the country, can know folks by name; truly not Chicago, but we’re very far from tame. We can travel not too far, visit one-horse, one-lane towns; watch to love kids play in yards, always horsing around. There’s magic in all seasons, you’ve certainly read of them; each month is so very precious, each season is a gem. This little town I live in, has me by my roots; ladies of all types, I go from heels to cowboy boots. Men in trucks and limos; kids with spiked hair and not; I’ll come visit your home town, and return happy to what we’ve got. ©KRJ ------------------ Sunshine Words will always express our feelings true. ~~~ KRJ Look, then, into thine heart, and write ~~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow [This message has been edited by Sunshine (edited 09-18-99).] |
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Craig Member
since 1999-06-10
Posts 444 |
This is short but wide and a little dark. If it is out of place Balladeer let me Know and I’ll change it. Blackburn Beside the burn black she lies, this cotton kings smoke layered town With tired red bricked terraced eyes, each street ranked and falling down This valley perched upon a hill, which owes it’s shape and dour form To each empty dark satanic mill, once echoing to the sparked clogs worn Gone now the chimney stacks, that belched forth smoke to stain the rain Removed the trams silver bright tracks, yet cobbled stones left still remain And gone all hope and pride, disused and demolished or worn down Leaves me living at the graveside, of a long dead Lancastrian town I would not change a word. It's so real I can see it before me. ------------------ Yes, I admit your general rule. That every poet is a fool: But I myself may serve to show it. That every fool is not a poet. [This message has been edited by Craig (edited 09-06-99).] [This message has been edited by Balladeer (edited 09-06-99).] |
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Lucie Senior Member
since 1999-06-20
Posts 1077Houston |
ok I wanna write about my original hometown, its much more exciting then the big city I live in now. Lucie, Lucie. You're missing the point of the endeavor. We've all lived in various places, some much more exciting than others. What we are trying to do here is to place the people as they are now, what their life is like now, what they are looking at daily now as we speak to them, what a map of our poet locations would look like NOW. I would appreciate your reconsideration. But... but.. I don't like where I live right now.. but your the boss.. I Hate My Town poem to follow. And I'm posting the good one in the Open Forum.. so there!!!  Lucie, you are a beautiful human being....that completely cracks me up!! LOL!! I Hate My Town I’m sitting here with pen in hand beside the apartment pool kids laughing, splashing, playing generally acting just a fool. I wrote a pretty good poem about the town where I grew up but Balladeer says not to post it here, I said why.. "its good enough!" But he is really bossy so I’ll let him have his way and write a poem about the town in which I’m forced to stay. OK you want a poem about the town where Lucie lives about the feeling of the city and the culture that it gives. Well I’m not gonna write of that instead I’ll let you see the city as I see it filled with crime and poverty. The children who run down the streets littered with trash of man find the beauty of my city in these few words if you can. The bums on every corner holding up their signs to view "I need a beer give me a buck" at least they don’t lie to you. The Metro bus that’s packed so full of people on their way to every corner of the city at any given time of day. The heat that makes you sweat the moment you step out the door though you just took a shower doesn’t matter any more. The fact you plan your life around the setting of the sun don’t get caught outside at night unless you’ve got a gun. Cause there are things outside my door that I don’t care to face the city where I live you see is not the safest place. But as I sit and watch kids splashing, what really amazes me are the things as adults they’ll pull to mind from childhood memory. They won’t remember the crimes on TV or the murder down the street just all the friends who came to play in this big pool where they meet. They’ll remember friends with which they all played ghetto basketball. "Oh you don’t know how to play that game? Well let me tell y’all." You take a grocery basket and you hang it upside down on the dumpster, now don’t laugh its a popular game here in my town. I guess we all have memories of the places where we live though I will paint no pretty picture here’s the one thing I will give. Houston is a city just like LA or New York the place to go for money if you have the skills to work. So please don’t let my poem keep you from visiting this city It is a place that’s filled with people and great human diversity. So Balladeer here is the poem about this poet’s town and I am going inside now cause the sun is going down. But before I end this poem, though I know that you don’t care I’ll dream about my small town life and that other really good poem that you wouldn't let me post, that took me there.  HA HA[This message has been edited by Lucie (edited 09-06-99).] [This message has been edited by Balladeer (edited 09-06-99).] |
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Angel Senior Member
since 1999-07-02
Posts 551Pennsylvania |
You can count me in too, but I want to write about my original home town too, it's much better than this little town I live in now Please see above comment ------------------ People who throw kisses are hopelessly lazy. -Bob Hope [This message has been edited by Balladeer (edited 09-06-99).] |
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Julie Senior Member
since 1999-08-20
Posts 739Houston, TX |
Home Is Where You Hang Your Heart There's so many place I've called home, Some say I have roamed and roamed, For a space to call my dome. For where I was born, is where I ended up. A place so hot, everyone carries a cup; Even my dog, he's actually a pup. It' humid most of the time, Sanity comes with my rhymes, People talk like they don't have a dime. Flat land and erratic seasons, Not to fear there is rarely a freezin', In Fall, people do their sneezin'. At night we walk in fright, for ya' never know who's out of sight, prepared to take your last bite. This isn't the only place I've been, Colorado and Oregon with a grin. Beauty as much, should be a sin. I miss the mountains and the lakes, climbin' so high with all it takes, only to feel an occassional quake. I may live in Houston, but my heart is in confusion, among these lost souls...usin'. I chose a home where I'm kinda safe, away from people that will take; I don't know if tommorrow I will wake. It's hard to be where you are, wishing upon that twinkling star, Passions In Poetry, in 1st so far. ------------------ Julie ------------------------- Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. Marianne Williamson [This message has been edited by Julie (edited 09-18-99).] |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Out of ashes, a Phoenix was born, that bird gave us our name ashes are the desert sands, southern winds fanned the flame Famous for our dry heat and searing summer sun ‘snowbirds’ migrate in the winter, to have a little fun We’ve got Rattlers, Diamondback, Cardinals too got a giant wave to ride and a we have world class zoo Cultural diversity is fostered in this place every religion, every age and certainly every race Colleges and old folks homes exist side by side the cleanliness of our city, is a source of our great pride Not too far from winter snow, nor from lakes in northern clime We even hope to have a beach, if an earthquake comes sometime While driving home from work, you can fry an egg on your hood Burn your hands on a steering wheel, don’t tell me this sounds good? The engine heats up, your car explodes, tempers begin to run short, Pools are full, the fans are on, so we move to a northern resort. We may sweat and we may moan, and ask ourselves why, Why we stay when it’s so hot! But remember, the heat is dry! Natural rivers flow as summer rains pour from the sky But don’t worry, we don’t get wet! Our rain is also dry! If you'd like to learn more about my state and city, click here! Wonderful, deVine one! I was expecting "I was so sad when I left Phoenix...I went through a box of Kleenix" |
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
My hometown... a place that's in need. Overrun by dirt, by crime and by greed. Dealers walking streets, they're everywhere. Even with kids around, they just don't care! Staying up all night, the tweekers aren't rare. Taking out razors, and cutting up their share. Our government's come, "to clean", they say. Come here to purge all of the slime away. And yet I know the truth, of this too common tale. Learned what can happen, when drugs are for sale. I watched my brother, every time he would fail. Fearful of the day, when he would end up in jail. Often he'd falter, really never that tough. Rail at his demons, until he just had enough. Now he's back with us, though life still is rough. I still worry though, about those out there still. All over the world, it's not just here that it kills. Magnificent work, Christopher! [This message has been edited by Christopher (edited 09-11-99).] [This message has been edited by Balladeer (edited 09-11-99).] |
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PhaerieChild Senior Member
since 1999-08-30
Posts 1787Aloha, Oregon |
Well, I love my hometown even with it's somewhat sleazy underbelly so count me in My hometown is not so different than any others. I've been everywhere this side of the Missouri Stink It's a town of trees and mountains and oh brother! It's got a river right thru town where I used to sit and think. Or surf on the raft that was tied up to an old gnarled oak. The train depot sits at the top of Vista and its red paint is turning pink. The college is expanding like some big balloon I'd like to poke. But they gotta have somplace for students who pay to think. The park is still downtown amidst the roses and the zoo. Used to party there years ago and listen to amps blaring from the 'shell Things have changed so much in the last decade or two. Can't party at the park, cops said it's now illegal. What the hell!? They put a Greenbelt in though the path was always there. Goes from Boise now to Lucky Peak and the other way to Eagle. They paved it now so joggers can go safely anywhere. Or so the older folks can walk their yorkies and their beagles. But all in all I must say that I'm happy to be home in my town With all the changes it has gone thru and its growth expansions I find myself grinnin' like a stupid foolish clown Living large in Treasure Valley. Boise Idaho is what they this bastion. ------------------ Words lay dormant in the recesses of the mind til called forth to a labor of love [This message has been edited by Balladeer (edited 09-06-99).] |
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Elizabeth
Moderator
Member Ascendant
since 1999-06-07
Posts 6871Minnesota |
All right! I rise to the challenge! All I gotta do now is write it. And I admit I have not written too much lately-a very very busy woman am I, but it will be posted here ASAP, on my honor!!!! ------------------ *Elizabeth* AKA Airhead701!!!! "Dwelt a maid belov'd and cherish'd by high and low, But with autumn leaf she perish'd, long time ago..." [This message has been edited by Elizabeth (edited 09-06-99).] [This message has been edited by Elizabeth (edited 09-08-99).] |
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miriam Member
since 1999-08-26
Posts 323glendale,ca. |
I'm new at this so bare with me. -There's never any silence, With all these cars passing by. At night there's some violence, I hardly see a sunny sky. -Armenians everywhere, With their fancy new rides. No one ever smiles, Everyone always hides. -The mini mart next door Is where the kids run to. This town is such a bore, There's nothing ever to do. -I want this all to end, I'll marry a rich man if i have to I have a few friends, They're what makes it all worthwhile. Home is where the heart is...and it's obviously not here. But you wanted a poem about where we live right? here you go. thanks for the opportunity. It's great, Miriam! Where is it, by the way? (oh, and I hope you just misspelled "bear" in your first sentence!) ------------------ miriam coronado [This message has been edited by Balladeer (edited 09-06-99).] |
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Tara Simms Senior Member
since 1999-08-12
Posts 1244Honea Path, SC USA |
Donalds, SC Bubbles floating through the air that small hands try to catch. The glow of a philly blunt lit up with a match. Little girls calling rhymes as they jump their rope. An old weather beaten face, eyes that lost all hope. Crickets sing their song scattered in the trees. A sweet scent lingers: honeysuckle on the breeze. The sky is void of the moon, there is no heavenly glow to cast its light as night falls on my home in the ghetto. [This message has been edited by Tara Simms (edited 09-07-99).] |
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Pufalove Member
since 1999-08-18
Posts 119Houston, Tx. USA |
As I sit down to write this, I tremble in fear For all my previous attempts have ended with a tear But as I read your challenge, oh ellusive Balladeer I begin again, pen in hand, maybe the time is near. My home town was like non-other you will read At a tender age of 6, mom died,leaving 5 from her seed I recall the snow so deep and the bitter wind did blow Leaving us to fend in the world,little did we know! So off we went from place to place Shuffled with each relative in hase Were WAS the next town, the next open door? Would they have a bed or would it be the floor? As we ventured into every cozy little town I recall one year we got to see a clown Mr. Johnsons hardware had big things hanging from the wall "here's a sucker", a kindly smile, "be careful you don't fall!" The buildings and the schools were all the same to me Each town, each street,27, before I was set free. So your challenge I have met, oh lofty Balladeer My home town was all the places in my heart that only I hold near. And the strangers loving hands who helped me on my way Take me back to my home town each and every day. ok, Luc.......hahaha...I did it! Opps...never mind....guess I didn't realize that you wanted my home town TODAY....yuk noway! Pufalove, this poem is an excellent representation of your "home" town and I accept it happily. Superb job! [This message has been edited by Pufalove (edited 09-06-99).] [This message has been edited by Balladeer (edited 09-07-99).] [This message has been edited by Pufalove (edited 09-08-99).] |
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Ron
Administrator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-05-19
Posts 8669Michigan, US |
Michigan SummerMy road is sun baked dirt and stone,my yard a field of wild grass grown, and at my furthest boundary, tall rows of corn stand guard for me. At dark the stars become a torch, the brightest light from my back porch, and fireflies mime the stars in flight; I find I see much more at night. My neighbors are the maple trees and swooping wrens and bumble bees, a snowshoe rabbit running wild, a tawny doe with freckled child. We share a home near glacier's gift of arctic waters left adrift, one lake of many lakes around a place called Colon, my home town. |
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moonmoon Member
since 1999-08-13
Posts 277TX , USA |
Okay Okay..I am in too Bal.. Just one Q..Am I the only 'resident alien' who has raised her hand so far?? My hometown is soo far away, the very thought of it gives me nostalgia..-sigh- Now, where's my pen?.. ------------------ "No one was ever ruined from without; The final ruin comes from within.".....Amelia E. Barr [This message has been edited by Balladeer (edited 09-07-99).] |
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Balladeer
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-05
Posts 25505Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA |
OK Denise. Here's your poem! So many thoughts come now to mind -Reflections of the fondest kind Fun happy days of childhood Spent in my town - my neighborhood. Familiar faces - some still here- Some only dwell in yesteryear Familiar spots, a sound, a scent Can take me back to days since spent. My town's one full of history- Fair birthing place of liberty Her patriots of ages past Have built a land that's unsurpassed. Miss Betsy Ross - who sewed so well George Washington and William Tell Ben Franklin, too and many more Shall dwell here always - evermore. My town's called Philadelphia And though it's not Utopia There's nowhere else I'd rather dwell Than right here with that cracked old bell! by DSNYDER |
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caroline Senior Member
since 1999-08-16
Posts 1218http://members.xoom.com/belladona123/index.htm |
Get Me Outta Here! I traveled to the River and left behind the Lake I wish I'd never come here my homesick heart still aches Nearly a year I've lived alone in this rather blue-haired town I was starting my life over but its only brought me down I found real quick if you need a job Its not what but who you know and if you don't go to bars at night you've got no place to go The local businesses will screw you out of every cent you've earned If their service is bad its YOUR problem as far as they are concerned For now it seems I'm stuck here it feels like I'm buried alive Give me back the lakes and pine trees Where I know I can survive caroline somewhere in Florida  (Dang Balladeer...ya made it so complicated! J/K!!!) [This message has been edited by caroline (edited 09-07-99).] |
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Dumblon New Member
since 1999-09-10
Posts 6Erie, PA |
Is it too late to submit a poem on your hometown? I have one. I live in Erie,PA. "Eriesistable" "Dreary Erie Mistake on the lake" Don't know who said it or who wrote it But truth be told I certainly believe it. My life these past years Has turned right around. I am facing concrete walls which make unnatural sounds. I yearn for the times When I was a kid. The days in the fields with the grass as my bed. I played outside, Never once had to worry, If the man down the street Would do something "dirty". I loved the country, My parents encouraged it. I climbed every tree. I was a free spirit. Now I am grown And moved into town. My spirit is wilting These walls tear me down. The gray of the pavement Saps me of my powers. Like Superman and Kriptonite, I no longer can flower. I yearn for the green, of dirt and of trees. I look to the sky, Was that all in my dreams? Did I not run once With boundless freedom? Just to see what I could My memories, I feel them. My family watches in horror, I know. They beg me to move, to go. My finances are begging To be rescued from me. I can't afford the move. It's wait and see. Till that day that I run in the fields, I run with the memory of my spirit in my head. [This message has been edited by Dumblon (edited 09-14-99).] |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas |
Retrieve Prison Farm, Texas Department of Corrections (now Criminal Justice) Halcyon days, childhood blush Clothes getting ripped In blackberry bush Sometimes there I skinnydipped In slow Oyster Creek Oars on raft unshipped Every memory was made unique In the fourteen years spent In trailer rinky-dink Father raised me to be a gent Toiling in the garden When his patience I bent We had a multitudes of wardens Watching over the slaves Caught by the sirens Some were there who'd misbehaved Others stole or killed Or ranted and raved For punishment the fields they tilled Young men grown old Their destiny sealed Fast flowed summers of molten gold As the inmates eat mush In the dank little hole Alicat [This message has been edited by Alicat (edited 10-17-1999).] |
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sweetnsxy Junior Member
since 1999-10-19
Posts 10Sterling Heights, Mi, U.S.A. |
Every night there are lots of fights, I can hear them outside my door. Funny languages, different sounds, coming from apatment one zero four. Many highways, gas stations, and stores, There are a lot of fast food restaurants, but there isn't much more. Here in Michigan there are many beautiful nights, But you really can't see them in the city of Sterling Heights. |
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Ron
Administrator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-05-19
Posts 8669Michigan, US |
It took a bit of searching, and I had to clean nearly every post of images that no longer pointed to valid pictures, but I knew I would NEVER throw away good poetry - so here's the original 1999 "My Home Town" thread (from our now defunct Community Poetry forum). |
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Kit McCallum
Administrator
Member Laureate
since 2000-04-30
Posts 14774Ontario, Canada |
Thanks Ron ...  Count me in on the 2002 version Balladeer. Here's your current link to keep the threads connected. /pip/Forum69/HTML/000889.html |
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