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H A Vitatoe Sep 12
In a day
We would all know
An hour
From long ago
The seconds
That,, no longer beat
& those lives
No longer dream

The towers fell
Down,  to a  duet
It was then
We'd Never, Forget
Remembering 9/11
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2013
The poem was inspired by a particular photo of the WT C, and after that by my first visit to the 9/11 Memorial.  On the day of 9/11, I was working about a diagonal mile away, and from our windows, we could see people jumping to their death.

Open sky annulled
to bordered lines of
uptown edges,
worldview momentarily
forcibly redefined by
memories of buildings and sadder days,
recollections of pillars of biblical smoke rising

A photograph
makes me look up,
and sit down historically,
need to catch a breath,
to rest mentally,
upon a storied small bridge's steps,
that I well recall,
a disappeared street stoop.
all were rubble then and once
upon that day.

Wear, tear, and older eyes distill perspective,
but the hardy heart is hardly stilled
by the recognizable gray upon
bon vivant gray reflective surfaces of
memories of buildings and sadder days

So today, on a reborn street,
I rest upon reconstituted speckled curbstone,
the city's lowered down ledges,
the city's lowered down-town boundaries,
constantly redrawn, but
nonetheless, always rebuilt from their own
regenerated stony compost,
and the NY passersby doesn't even notice
a man, head in hands,
silently weeping, thinking that:

We throw away so much we should have kept.
We keep so much we should have thrown away.

Lose keepsakes, but keep our mysterious sadnesses
locked away in compartments that open only to
benedictions uttered in ancient tongues.

Make your own list,
be your own curator,
catalogue visions of sophomoric triumphs,
museum mile pile
those early poetic drafts,
be unafraid of memories
raw and ungentrified,
overlaid, buried underneath
postmortem of dust-piles of senior critiques

Finally went downtown to see
where the blessed water falls
into catacomb pits that once
were the foundations
of buildings that ruled the cityscape,
downtown anchors
for a modern city that exists
only because it was built on
million year old granite bedrock

Stone monuments are stolid, discrete.
Memories are of grayed, frayed edge consistency.
Negatives resurrected that survive digitally,
all blend synthetically, layer upon layer,
essence distilled in a single,
black and white photograph
that serves to
disturb complacency,  
awaken stilled pain,
reflections suppressed,
are restored
Written August 2013
Nine ten
Today the day

It all
Came crashing to
The floor

In smoke
And flames we watch
The fall

And chocked
Each time the clips
Came on

In awe
Of what we lost
That day

I sit
With God and ask
What may

I do
Today for them
Who lay

In graves
Around New York
And Maine
September 10, 2019

From the Wasatch
9-11 grave memorial
In Salt Lake, Utah
JT Nelson Jun 14
We heard the screech
Then the pop
Of metal on metal
Or metal on wood
It’s hard to tell the difference
When you’re half asleep

People were running
To it and from it
People afraid that they’d
Be sent away
Away from their babies
Others stopped them and calmed them

My thumbs wrestled
With dialing 9-1-1
But I described it best I could
As quickly as I could
And as accurately as I could
Then we waited.
Traumatic situation all around tonight in our “hood” as a mom with children jumped the curb and hit a pole or tree then took off from the scene as she was afraid that she’d be deported or put in in jail or something. One by one the emergency personnel showed up and we made our way home. Lights and voices still thick behind us. Scary.
AsianTapWater May 28
I’m sorry, my son.
I should’ve been more careful.

I’m sorry, my son.
I could’ve stopped your pain.

I woke up,
And you were screaming.
Yet there was nothing I could do.

The towers fell,
Your ribs shattered.

The buildings burned,
Your skin was set aflame.

You were dying,
And I watched you.

You begged for help,
And I only listened.

I’m sorry, my son.
I should’ve been a better father.
Another APH!America poem, this time about 9/11. I like the idea of the states being America's kids.
Candi Mar 15
Everyone now knows
The unforgettable date
That took so many lives
And determined so many peoples fate

"Sit down students
watch T.V
This is important information
Which effects you and me"

"Is this a movie?"
"Is this for real?"
"Look at those plane,
they're aiming to ****!"

All of a sudden
There was a sound
"Look at the building,
it's starting to fall down!"

No one was certain
No one full knew
The gravity of the situation
Which grew and grew

A few minutes later
Another building was struck
Seems like the United States
Just ran out of luck

When the situation diminished
Lots of people cried
Mourning over their loved ones
That didn't survive
United we stood
Standing as one
Recovering from the incident
That had much damage done
This poem was inspired by the Ballad of Birmingham by Dudley Randall
Toxic yeti Mar 9
Dear snow flake
You might not like me
For my skin
And odd beliefs
Since 9/11
But I am going to tell
You this
I was a vicimt of terrorism
Talk to me and
You may know
A decent human.
EJ Lee Jan 9
Ten years ago
Three planes crashed
One at the Pentagon
Then two at the Twin Towers
This tragic event
Rendered us to feel
And scared
For our life
There was no warning
That this would occur
No one prepared
For this to happen to us
Today we remember
The thousands of people that died
The brave search and rescue teams
Looking for survivors
Of this horrible scene that was laid out
In front of them
Where there seemed to
Be no hope
Now they can rest in peace
For the man that was the mastermind
Of the tragic event
Has met his justice
For the pain that he caused us
For so long
We can rebuild a new
And move on
But in the back
Of our minds
We will never forget
All of the lives that
We lost
Ten years ago
This was written for a book in my undergrad when I was a freshmen, I tend to update this poem as needed
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