This Poem was Submitted By: Ellen K Lewis On Date: 2006-07-22 21:58:45 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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In This City In this city
there are people
who live in abandoned places
and find treasures in our trash
On this new street
there are shelters
and people who wait in line
just to sleep in one.
Under this bridge
there are grown children
who wait for the junkies
to bring them drugs.
In this city
there are family's
who visit the soup kitchen
and steal bread.
On this corner
there are young women
who wait for their chance
to make some cash.
On this roof top
there's a hoary old man
he sits here daily
but he nver jumps.
In this garage
a makeshift kitchen
a place to slow cook
a fresh batch of meth.
Down this alley
a gathering of the angry
ready to strike out
do it or die.
On this front porch
an old lady rocking
she's been here for years
watching her neighbors.
And at this park
the dead are buried
people visit here
in hope of refuge.
At this chapel
people gathering
a simple wedding
economy at it's best.
In this city
a voice in the crowd
proclaiming salvation
to those who leave.
In this wasteland
where people once lived
are ashes and brimstone
and sorrow no more.
In this silent city
a voice still babbles
proclaiming a victory
to all who will leave.
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Copyright © July 2006 Ellen K Lewis
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mary J Coffman On Date: 2006-08-06 08:29:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Wow! Ellen, this is so powerful, and poignant. Love how you start each stanza by introducing the reader to each new "place." So very descriptive. One can actually picture all the sadness and atrosities you depict here. Ones that are all to real in this world today. Love your word choices, and all the vivid imagery you provide in this write. Each stanza yanks the reader in a new direction...just as each day of life does. Lots of emotion in this, as well. Well penned, my friend. One more for my list! Thanks for sharing this power-packed piece with all of us. Brava!
Warmly,
Mary
This Poem was Critiqued By: Nancy Ann Hemsworth On Date: 2006-08-04 19:34:11
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
wow Ellen..you have described so vividally in this little individual images all the torror, depression, false hopes, devisation, addictions self hatered etc that I could possible think of. You have made such a powerful statement, in everyday, no frills language just like the people you speak of..This brought a tear to my eye I could feel the desperation, and have seen most if not all of the faces of the people you speak of..sad reality brought front line here...making the reader take a look at last, for some refuse to see don't they...the stanza that struck me the strongest was "And at this park
the dead are buried
people visit here
in hope of refuge." no more has to be said here does it! death better then life...
Hard to "leave" easier said then done...how do some pick up all the mental "baggage" they carry, not easy to answer to.."In this silent city
a voice still babbles
proclaiming a victory
to all who will leave." excellent write..Nancy
This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2006-08-04 08:35:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Ellen,
This poem is stark, sad and true in bringing out the daily plight of poverty, and city dwellers. Each verse, a statement of conditions that exist to those who live it. You have captured the essence of their lives,
with ease - and your imagery creates the picture before the readers eyes. There is hope, victory to those
who find a way to escape it - but what of those who have to stay - they relive daily the scenes you've created with in this piece. The poverty - the homeless - the drug users - your choice of the word wasteland -works well.
It's a profound message to all - humbles me, tells me not to complain about the way I live - when there are those so much less fortunate.
Good write, thanks for sharing.
Denimari
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2006-07-23 12:32:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Ellen,
And when they leave; the pattern starts anew somewhere else.
We're in a pretty pitiful state of mankind.
Drugs, drugs, drugs..... meth yes but heroin's taking over big too.
Death anyone? Stealing, begging, whoreing, whatever it takes to get high.
I'm not getting why someone proclaims victory to all who leave?
I like the easy reading of the stanzas.
In this...on this...down this...effective use of repetitive 'this'.
A good, thoughtful job, leaving the reader alot to ponder.
Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2006-07-23 09:07:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Ellen,
This is definately anywhere USA. But what I like about it is you do give us a ray of hope.
It has become frightening to watch the news. I've known people who lived paycheck to paycheck
who ended up getting hooked on crack or meth, people who know the alluring call of drugs or
drink and made it their way of life. My son was one of them. He was one of the lucky ones. He
got caught, went to jail and got clean. And all it will take is one slip. But this poem says so
much more then that.
I like the way you laid it out.
I'm sure you already noticed the typo in S-6 with 'never'.
And the spacing in some parts is distracting, but I think this may
have been simply overlooked before submission.
The repetition from the title on keeps bringing the point home.
You give us images in succinct yet precise fashion.
Thanks for sharing this one.
Best,
Jennifer
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