Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Arcassin B Jun 12
By Arcassin B

"Nerdy kid from Queens in the city that never sleeps,
Single moments without the peace and ability to be eased,
Simplicity to finding your dreams replacing the deeper means,
With a Genius intellect, No these kids can not rival me,
I was brought up and taught these things and took the blessings,
A misconception in human minds don't get the message,
Babylon in full effect ,is where we're all headed,
One day I'm gonna be something,I think manifest it,
My teenage years were pretty weird and wasn't kind to me,
Richard and Mary Parker was just distant memory,
If anything I found myself a remedy to cope with thinking why
I found all of this as a stranger dreaming,
Who knew one day I actually become a man?
Who knew one I'd actually have a real friend?
Who knew one day that I would be bitten by a radioactive
engineered Spider in the very end?.....

(New Poem Titled "Responsibility" to Spider-Man Project Coming soon!)
Full Poem below⬇️

©abpoetry2022
https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2022/06/responsibility-spider-man-project.html
benedict Jan 12
would you like to hear a secret?
i liked you. liked you on and off for years
new york, model un, this year
it was the proximity
i needed to feel like somebody gave a ****
i am sorry for telling you with my eyes and
i am sorry for not telling you with words
your smile, your laugh
the way you hurt me sometimes
oblivious to the fact that
your opinion mattered.

and now i read this,
reflecting upon the aftermath.
you told me the words i wanted to hear
but out of necessity, not want.
you have taken the small secrecy of my
emotion away from me and i
cannot forgive you for that sin.
personal notes to a universal tone
Rama Krsna Jan 1
under the slanting rays
of the December sun,
silhouettes of this sin city
eke loneliness,
eating the timid
and spitting out carcasses.

its skies, ash gray
the refrigerated air moody
reminding wayfarers
that here is no place
to come seeking solace.

as apathy rains
sirens howl
and crime soars
the need to look over the shoulder
more pronounced than ever before.

the bottom line is
everyone’s looking to make money,
fast, furious and frenzied
in this,
my hometown- New York.
Solaluna Sep 2021
Every raindrop turns you on,
That will end on waking up tired the next day.
Oh, the intense love you have for the rain,
Especially the ones in New York.
Rama Krsna Jul 2021
seductive yellow rose
waltzing
beside the green lake
in this city of sin,
are you tempted
by things forbidden?

steadfast
steel cut
spellbinding
you indulge in nothing
except
this dark chocolate croissant
which seemingly melts in your mouth

© 2021
Juliana May 2021
How does it feel,
to know the secrets
of an entire city?

I mean, you can see
everything.

The handshake
for a sold deal,
a new cooperation,
a million jobs created,
another million destroyed.

How does it feel,
to see a ***** street rat,
a plastic bag of sugarcane,
vermin taking their pick
of Chinatown’s lovely leftovers?

How does it feel,
to see children
turning into fathers?

To have them grow,
hoping, praying,
that one day they’ll
be as tall as you?

That the children
will fly among the stars,
angels cursed to play tag,
for just a little bit longer.

How does it feel,
to know that one day,
your favorite will slam
his apartment door
closed for the last time,
bags packed into boxes,
driving into a tunnel,
your line of sight gone,
never to return?

How does it feel,
to know that he might
love the ocean more?
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2021
Ziegfield girls with Gatling guns
in complete synchronization,
decked out in Erté.
Watch your step, soldier,
for what's often considered foreplay.

Much like Peter and the Wolf,
one thing leads to another
on this daisy chain,
and as you know,
Burke's only jealous of Lorainne.

I'll tell you what,
dress warm for the ******* snowstorm,
and there'll be a place alongside
such an ingenue.
But what a terrible let down
it would be to find out
she was always smarter than you.
Erté (pronounced AIR TAY): Romain de Tirtoff's pseudonym; he was a 20th-century artist and designer in an array of fields, including fashion, jewellery, costume and set design for film, theatre, and opera.
Toothache Jun 2019
Strangers on the subway
Who I never met and never will
Say, "hey, martha", like they're hailing a taxi
And I say, "hey" back, because, I am martha.
The lights go out in the tunnels, because, the conductor thinks it's funny and,
Three murders happened in that time but, no one cared
And the conductor still does it.
That train after 1 am
The grey and green one that smokes and used to have a future,
That was, good at writing or something in high school, but, never made it to college, you know the one.
That train rolls up and its five minutes late, but it's always five minutes late so no one complains,
And I stub my toe on the way in, I forgot to, mind the gap, and
A strange stranger bumps into me,
They say, "watch where you're going sean"
And I say
"Sorry"
Because, I'm sean,
And we all get on and no one says a word, and most of the passengers are rodents
But maybe some are marsupials
I dont know the difference.
And we sit in there for ten minutes maybe, avoiding eye contact like it's the plague,
Excepting, of course, those few that make eye contact the whole ride, like you're interesting or, appetising, or, they're blind and those are actually glass eyes that just happen to be looking your way.
And, when the train starts it lurches, it belches down the cars, because it, doesnt think anyone can hear it because its five meters underground and, no one could hear anything from down there.
And as we sit and we ride the silence turns to music, like the lack of even rustling, or bustling, or conversation to a friend, becomes the sound of collective recognition, often purposefully ignored, that no one on that train is going.
The train moves, but they dont, and, even though their stop is right around the corner, no one on that bench will ever find their corner piece, or land that gig, or get the girl, or save the day
Because in the looming washed out morning,
They're all just, simply, nothing more than, strangers, on the subway.
Grace Mar 2021
of course I'd want you to come visit me in New York
take the subway to off broadway
make snow angles in Central Park
buy overpriced latte's in the glistening rain
but there are invisible bounds
and I must restrain
the bounds of a city
then marked by footprints
replaced now by loud freeways and hippies
the bounds of downtown
once marked by trees and spring beauties
roots once tangled and over grown
cemented over now by sidewalks and shows
the bounds of two souls enveloped in love
as friends not lovers
soul mates, kind of
if I move away
do the bounds bend and sway
or like a string break
and disintegrate away
I love New York
Next page