There Sun is lost behind the smoke of the City;
There is neither peace, nor honour, nor beauty here.
There is only ugliness and death in the City.
Time is running out: the City is doomed;
We are doomed; we are lost; we are the last.
I shall probably die, screaming, in an unlovely
Unholy war; you in a coughing fit,
Fighting for one more breath of worthless air.
We are beyond Hope; we did not build the city,
Poison the air, or choose to live here. WE have
No time to build our own City; we are here,
But, here, together. Nothing, can save us
But together nothing can harm us.
Together there is peace, and beauty and hope.
=====================================
1971 was a dark year --- height of viet nam war, and cold war --- i'd flunked out UofT --- broken off or screwed up a good relationship --- and there was this younger girl that turned my head --- the last two were huge mistakes -- the world was becoming aware of ecological diastre ---
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Reviews of "The City (circa 1971)"
Reviewed by Nicole Davis Vergara (Reader)
Reviewed on December 30, 2002
John this work is so very full of truth; tis a sorrow ladden pity what man and his forefathers have done to themselves and this land they call home, yet the greater tragedy is the legacy left to the future...our children! :O)
Wonderful Work John!
~Nikki~
I loved this. This was wonderfully written. I love poems like this. Really reminds me of the book, "A Separate Peace" by John Knowles. Really good poem John (oh, look at the coincidence of the two authors!)
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Wonderful Work John!
~Nikki~
do;-)!Be blessed in the year2003;-)!
Warm Love and Happy New Year,
*- Brittany -*