…..Philadelphia or Philly, the streets ain’t hilly and the winters are a bit more then chilly, but none of that says nothing about it being Philadelphia or Philly. I’m not being silly when I say our cheesesteaks and cheesecakes ain’t for cheapskates, we ate good in our hoods like you should, but again; none of that is the difference between Philadelphia and Philly, holdup let me shake my Willy, really. I’ve come to the conclusion it’s no illusion there’s a whole other city call Philly that’s not on the map, now you can scratch your head and spit through your gap, but grab any map, and you’ll think Philly got scraped. Philadelphia takes its place and it’s a waste of space, it’s not a trace of Philly, that map has no taste. Philadelphia is the place where we keep the crack and the bell; hell, it’s the place where the Constitution was signed before we had most of these institutions. It’s a fact, but let’s not get caught up on all that, the question is, where’s it at? What? Philly! Stay focused forget all the hocus pocus. Visions of old chucks hanging from the wires, is in the hearts and minds of every Philadelphian who remember playing in the hydrant, Bad ass kids with jeans cut off at the knees, making people say please, we wet drunks that was bent and spent, and was on a lean, but was still clean, we wet drivers and their cars that road up the block down to their socks; we collect popsicle sticks for no reason other then it being pleasing. We didn’t need swimming pools we had our own summertime tools; hopscotch, ringo and tops on the block, watching the girls jump rope and we was up close so we didn’t need telescopes, it’s not a hoax or joke, hear me folks. Philly is where we use to put up dukes, don’t shoot, right over there on Spruce. Everybody was cool and went to school and paid attention to the rules, sure we had gangs that use to bang, but even they had order before the slaughter, old heads controlled the shoot outs, but you had to prove worthy no mercy by putting up those dukes or you got clowned if you tried to shoot. Weekend summer block cleanings was made fun cause the party soon to come was hardy, don’t be tardy. Those parties was tuns of fun and you didn’t need wealth, everybody was fam and got served you heard, that was the word, you got a plate long as you wasn’t fake and didn’t bring hate to Philly gates.
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Author:
EvenwheniLie (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 15th, 2022 02:07
- Category: Unclassified
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- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments4
I will always remember growing up in philly as a child, racing popsicle sticks down the street by the curb in the fire hydrant water, my grandmother magically making my pro kid sneakers look brand new with white shoe polish when I only thought it came in black or brown. Slap boxing, racing up and down the street, playing with our matchbox cars, reading the latest comic books, etc., if I could do it all again I would a thousand times. I hope it’s a reality that awaits me after I die, it is surely my heaven every time I close my eyes and meditate on it.
Brilliant!
a true ode, with effortless flow
such a great read
thanks for introducing me
to your beloved Philly
Glade you enjoyed the poem, thanks.
I have never been to Philly but it was nice to hear about it and your younger years. Was another great write and your rhyme was very tight.
Thanks Raven333, that really means something to me coming from you.
Your welcome, it was a very interesting read
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