Trek Back to 187th
That day in middle school a bully
joked about airplanes hitting buildings.
I couldn’t believe
When we sat spaced out in homeroom,
Staring at the fluorescent lights
And clock, towering over the intercom.
My name was called and father appeared
Standing outside the sunlit streets of New York.
He took my hand and pointed to
The steel smoking across the sky.
He said, this is the sight I never want you to see.
The sight of war.
We walked the streets of the city that never sleeps
And witnessed its bi-polar depression.
A women in a red dress, face wrinkled from tears,
Broken in the middle
Of the intersection. Like
A car accident, She collided with
Pavement and waited for help.
A man wedged his car door
Open blasting victims with news updates.
A couple stopped with us and
Stood around. Grim faced, crossed arms
We knew,
There was nothing we could do.
We joined a crowd.
And waited for a bus on 63rd and Lex.
Taxi’s sped past like angry
Yellow-jackets. One stopped
And a black man was first to reach it.
The driver argued against the man
And my father cried for justice
As it flew off.
That day I was afraid of sticks and stones
And towering buildings falling down on me.
-Angel, 2009
5 comments:
The boy can write! How exciting! Seriously, good stuff.
this is excellent. of all the imagery, the last 2 lines strike hardest.
I agree with leaningtowardthesun. Those last two lines are awesome.
Yes, the entire piece is very powerful. It hits me in the soul and does everything a poem should do. The city's "bi-polar depression" is another striking line. There are so many. And the voice is fantastic.
I also like how it is from a young person's point of view. A "coming of age" of sorts. Excellent and powerful words.
Hi Brigindo,
Like Julie says, the whole poem is powerful. I was also struck by the line, bi-polar depression. My favorite stanza, aside from the opening, is the second stanza:
"A woman in a red dress, face wrinkled from tears, Broken in the middle..." "She collided with pavement..."
I like the way Angel is breaking up the lines, giving them multiple meanings, and giving the speaker of the poem, a unique voice.
And, of course, the final two lines are from the point of view of a young person, and from us all, drawing on our childhoods, evoking feelings of helplessness, and giving the words universality.
Wonderful work!
Good stuff. Well done, Angel.
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