My Born Place

Philly is like an old grandmother's living room
Old, dusty, a musty smell with a lot of history to share
Just like at my grandmother's house
The walls could use new paint, the ceiling has water spots
and the room could stand for some new furniture
but we don't come here for that
we come for the warmth, the love, the history and pride
through the years, it's been through it all
it's been through years of prosperity and years of mourn
it's seen young man turned into old men
it's seen children wed
it's seen parents wept
there's no denying it's great since of history
and no, I'm not talking about the collection of pictures
which could fill up a museum
I'm talking the history of paint chips that fell off
the banister year after year
the history of that intercom that blew out and was never fixed
I'm talking about the customs and traditions that's been carried out
which made technology adapt to it's ways

For it is not the things in grandma's house that we love
we love the warmth of our grandma
we love the fact that some of us called the place home
we love the fact that there was no better hot meal
we love the fact that the love was unconditional
these old and rusty out dated things in grandma's living roomw
ell...they need to be replaced
but they hold so much intrinsic value to her
we dare not touch them but just wish to polish them
For replacing them would be altering history
and we do not want something foreign to remind us
of our grandmother's living room
For these things she loves and will not part with these objects easily
So we preserve her outdated items
which beam of time gone by and are full of character
And this is what makes Philly what it is...
an old grandmother's living room
it's not the newest
or shiniest
or the best run
but it's home
and will provide you with more warmth
then a new fad ever could

For its not the creak in the step we want to preserve
it's the notches in wood from years gone by
It's not the water spots in the ceiling that we want to keep
but the design of another era gone by
and its not the chipped paint we which to remain on the railing
rather the memories of the scratches we made as children
For it's not the room that we love which is old, musty and out of date
It's the character, history and pride that make up our love for Philly
and all of it's worn out glory

Poems about Cities

Here is a link to site that contains over 99 different poems about cities.

Here is my favorite poem off the website so far, entitled Music of the Street by Jennifer Lujanac.

Music Of The Street

Uptown
Downtown
Eat-you-alive town.
Nothing here is innocent.
Nothing here is really pure.
There's danger around each corner.
Nothing here is stopping, nothing here is slow.
There's never a moment of silence,
There's never a moment alone.
Horns honking,
People talking,
Vendors yelling,
Children laughing.
The city has a beat,
It pounds into your brain.
There's a rhythm to this city, a shuffle that's contagious.
This city's made of music!
It'll stick in your head and never leave.
It's a fantasy.
A daydream.
It grows on you and makes you want to stay.
You become a part of the music of the street.

It almost sounds like an ad pitch from Don Draper from the TV series Mad Men. What is your favorite poem about cities?