Poetry: Ward StoriesNEW YORK CITYVOICES: September/October 2002
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A year has gone by. We are still somber, still in mourning, still shaking our heads in disbelief. Many of us have written poems on paper or in our hearts, hoping such reflection will in some way make the pain dissipate. Below are two poems to read as we remember the fallen, honor our heroes, and try to make sense of it all. CAMPANILE-MASSACRE By Ilse Jecies "Facilis Est Descensus Averni" Once-proud towers-cynosure for the urban navigator- soaring over the World's great city torched by a flying, fire-breathing, dying Trojan-horse; tortured to a mangled giant bowed-down to the ground, weeping ashes that waft over miles the chilled acridity of the dying fires of hyperspace- a cosmic-cosmopolitan rainbow blown to quaking, grey bits- a realized dream pixilated onto an even realer screen- ordered hyperactivity deranged-hives, bees and honey reverting to dust at the wave of a wand- expanding chaos; compressing time and space: a rock became a sun become a black hole in one hour flat THREE WEEKS LATER by Phillip Regman Bonnie goes off to work one day She kisses her kids off to school Pretty much the same way Not knowing this day would be her last Little David cries As every night mommy dies, Mommy dies in his dreams "Who's going to take care of us"? He asks; His troubled mind had this new task Thinking of the future Fro him and his sister too "Will Grandma come soon or will it be you?" Three weeks later In the time of early dawn The sky is cloudy; the moon is not over Though sunrise was gone Pale white, misty thick paste colors you can taste Are the colors that go by. Peace, Hope and Strength-United Are holding a close tie. The sun seems to have disappeared But I know it's clear to me Simply by the light of day The comfort in a tone that He is here So the promise of tomorrow and things to come Will be-will be And so every night these three weeks That have gone by I ask the lord To bless and protect all the little Davids Who lie in their bed and cry Of mommy-of Bonnie My Bonnie By the rail By the water By the lighthouse in the dark My Bonnie who lies somewhere underneath The skyline in the City of New York. As every night Bonnie dies Out loud mommy dies completing his dream Flagrant fumes of despair rise Amidst the crowds worldwide-they mourn The loss of those gathered round we frown We frown; we frown to God to stay the course To stay the course Without panic yet Anger and sorrow holding true our liberty's intact Allowing forever better days to come We stay the course We stay the course
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