Thursday, May 1, 2008


Damp society
Meanders through
Scorching waves,
Coiling and throbbing,
from grease slicked.
pot-holed streets.

Sunny sky, to
Blackened clouds
Humidity joins
Her sister heat,
In blanketing
The torrid city

As Relic buildings
Shake their weary
Heads and cry,
Can we survive?
Ever silenced
By the wrecking ball

While frenzied cranes
And bulldozers
Give birth to
Yet, another structure
As its glossy neighbors
Gaze in expectation

A city boiling
in fevered dreams
of worthiness,
eternally changing,
in the hopes
of acceptance.

copyright Sherry Obsheatz


wordcrafter said...

Only yesterday I was thinking about the ever growing number of skyscrappers here (London-UK) as phallic social, architectural and political power symbols of this era. Ever expanding towards the ether and leaving the little man behind. And Houston too, an old friend (now living there) left yesterday, the dampness and the heat.. I like the poem, you can feel the sweltering heat.

S.Ghosh said...

tremendous flow ...really appreciabl e

i liked specially

"A city boiling
in fevered dreams"

will wait .....

Stacey said...

Hi White Rose,
Thank you for visiting me at my blog!
Great words, so well written!

paisley said...

seems like we are never happy doesn't it... we cry because they leave them rotting and abandoned,, and we scream when they the tear them down... renewal is a good thing.. i say fix or destry and rebuild where ever possable,, and leave the remainder of the undeveloped land alone....