Thirty feet tall Madonna, is one of the things-
My ultra-stylish city that grew up,
Rave, raunchy catwalks beneath those chandeliers-
The Toyota drives by the Manhattan Beach, amidst bikini wardrobe.
When I read those Taxi-dance barbettes-
I wish I could lost in their growling gowns,
All my wishes fulfilled one day and flew me down there-
My boasting finance job and some pals were African browns!
It was that ultimate visa down the Fashion Avenue-
Most of their lipstick glosses were supported by Chelsea revenue.
I could not breathe the invisible virus against my immunity,
The enigmatic pleasures that lived inside the skyscraper community-
I had no qualms while cherishing the barbeque restaurants poisoning,
My fascinations without imaginations had no logical reasoning-
Many of us at Saint Clair’s ward#3, NYC, were at once there fugitive-
Now moaning like chickens to be butchered, we are all HIV positive!
Did you know that…
Pop diva Madonna is a gay icon and the gay community has embraced her as a pop culture icon. She was introduced to the gay community while still a teenager. It was her ballet teacher, Christopher Flynn, a gay man, who first told Madonna that she was beautiful. He introduced her to the local gay community of Detroit, Michigan, often taking her to the local gay bars. Flynn encouraged Madonna to walk away from her full scholarship to the University of Michigan and to move to Manhattan.
The disease of AIDS…
Was first uncovered in homosexual men
What happens when your dreams turn into reality? It’s a paradigm that you celebrate, live life to the fullest. There is however, life that exists beyond this celebration, sometimes good and sometimes not so good like you expected. And when it becomes not so good like you expected, you spat with bitterness and associate the term bad. Anything against your wish and will is then bad and one day you might fall into live with this bad. All I can say is that they are individual retrospection.
This is what Manhattan Dreams exactly captures. The first half can successfully open the door of fascinations that a college teenager in search of a lucrative career and living might jump into- “Style, fashion, exuberance, beaches, skyscrapers, stardom and what not!” Everything is colorful about Manhattan, even the way it is spelt and pronounced. A financial job inside a long cherished skyscraper, international friends, restaurants, pubs, smoking, the kind of gay evenings are not only meant for Hollywood films but can happen to someone like you. And then one day, the world economy complains your presence there as a fugitive, you are fired from your job and your world crashes to a clinic or a hospital confirming you HIV positive. What will you do then?
That is what you are getting from the second half of the poem. As if the drama has reached a climax like after the interval in a film. There seems a sudden pause in life from where there leads the road to uncertainty, disappointment and delusion. This is where the poem ends, because this is where the human mind stops thinking often. A never before kind of bitterness cataracts the dreamy visions and the object of your dream becomes an excuse of your current defeat.
Manhattan Dreams is not a criticism of the gay culture. Neither it attempts to de-criminalize the society nor does it pollute the appeal of Manhattan at all. It is the victim’s individual retrospection in the other side of his celebrated life which is no more a celebration now. The stylish Manhattan is both a dream and a reality. It has nothing to do with your personal glory or agony. Depending upon the situation in your life it might serve as your forefront or background.