Gabriel of the city

Somewhere down below,  

concealed from sight

among an illuminated city

of bright lights and homeless tents;

somewhere beneath my roof-top perch, 

I heard it glide down sidewalks

that glitter in neon.

A soothing sound 

as plain as words on a marquee.

Sad and slow - a trumpet conveyed

a strained swelled ache

in every note.

Like tortured melodies of despair

seeking morphine, 

it wriggled through open windows.

Whoever listened, 

understood the same way 

a congregation would

a sermon, or wise man.

If I didn't know any better

I'd say the winds

blowing between buildings

came to console a city that's 

been sitting in the seat

of sadness too long.

When the sound was done

the sermon's message lingered.

We were lucky.

In other cities

their sermons are delivered

with gun fire.

And for most, the messages 

aren't meant to console. 

Author's Note

Picture changed to San Francisco. Refers to current state of affairs and economics.
Inspiration:
Carol King's 'The jazzman,' and The Twilight Zone - A passage for trumpet.

Reviews

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

This poem speaks volumes that many people don't know how ugly a city can be beneath it lights and landmarks.

[Relic]

Thanks for your input, Cowboy. :)

[Coyote Poetry]

A amazing poem. I like the story line and the deep thoughts.
"In other cities
their sermons are delivered
with gun fire."
The above words. A ugly view but it had become our world. Thank you Relic for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[Relic]

Unfortunately it has. Thank you, Coyote.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome my friend.

[FGFRANKLIN]

I like this one, Relic. The city can be a sleeping dragon, all fiery eyes of red and gold. I have bedded down near the beast and heard its bellows of honking horns and distant sirens. In the day it seems tame with its tunnels of carbon monoxide and its back alleys full of winos and addicts. There is shabbiness and sordid romance. But at night she shines like a jewel. But maybe the truth lies somewhere in between. Great write, I enjoyed the read.

[Relic]

I always appreciate your comments FG, thanks you.

[John the Baptist]

A haunting piece here. Although the trumpeter is not identified, his message is like the voice of God speaking soothing words to a weary humanity. It's also true that in some cities (Think Kyiv and maybe Chicago and Baltimore) the sermons are delivered with gunfire. I think we need to get this musician on YouTube ASAP.

[Relic]

lol I do to, John. Chicago was one I had in mind for that line. Thanks for the comment. :)

[Lorry]

Regarding your authors note Relic, I DO BLAME ALL OF THOSE THINGS! 😊
I think the trumpet is an excellent choice for our death song and we have only turned what was once green fields into a corporate, soul sucking hell of our own demise, chasing dreams of wealth and success into our own living nightmares of now.
Oh, and don't forget millennials either. How did they actually think life was going to turn out once they "realised" that everyone is "special?"
Now call me old fashioned, or boring or hell, you can call me Rita for all it matters, but didn't anyone else stop and think, for even a second, that if everyone is special, isn't that just proof positive that they are all just ordinary?
I mean, It took me about three seconds to figure that one out, but then it just goes to show you how "special" I am 😊
Now as the trumpet siren plays its final tune and we all face our certain deaths, my last and final thought will be... "Did the guy in the picture take his batman outfit off because the world is melting? 😊

[Relic]

lol How can I argue or disagree with anything you've said. haha Thank you, Lorry.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the jazzman is testifying...I like the feel of that song with the picture although it made me a bit queezy since I am so deathly afraid of heights.
Sermons with gunfire...Church just ain't the same these days is it?
And they aren't even safe from the violence.
j.

[Relic]

Our world is changing and not for the better. Thanks, J.