The city

This city’s cracked
by soulless crooks
and full
of aging fools.
It’s hard
to stay on guard
for altruism and bounty.
The after-smoke
will stop
all clicks’ of clock –
a finger pulls
to-temple-point-trigger.
One less to heaven’s counted.

Realities
are puppet shows –
deluded and bizarre.
Price’s climbing
to the roof,
with poverty
hits pavement.
Once shinning,
like a childish smile,
the fall of glory’s star
looks straight in eyes awestruck,
still hoping for enslavement.

This city’s self-destructing tune
is hexed
by own beliefs.
It places never-stealing-hands
for exhibitions.
The hands are clean,
but no one checks
a few tricks up one’s sleeves.
This city’s glands
are spooling
on bloody-starved-ambitions.

3 August 2007

Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko

The city

Really it’s hard to stay on guard when unexpected violence breaks out.. it is also true the prices are climbing to the roofs and poverty is hitting the pavements..no ambitions..common man has to live like sheep in the herd...Well done my dear friend.:-)venkat

And, you know,

Sometimes we build the city inside of ourselves and look through these jungles as Mowgli at Shere Khan :)
Thank you, Venkar.

Ubi vita, ibi poesis!

the city

Gotta be on guard at all times in the city. It has a life of its own. Good write.

Thanx,

It’s a kangaroo with us in its pocket :)
Ubi vita, ibi poesis!

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