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K Coleman Apr 2017
I took a trip to New York today...
I guess it was pretty okay.
I explored the met,
my shoes got wet,
and I left with nothing to say.

But it wasn't much different from home...

I prepare for a day with everything set,
I wander through life, no sweat.
things happen that make me mad,
even my own thoughts make me sad,
Did I mention my shoes got wet?
Raquel E Mar 2017
speed-dating
fast-learning
falling
for
the immediacy of chaos
sometimes to feel alive
you have to be broke(n)
the beauty
the uncomfortable
mind
the wallet
skating
through
rhetorical
landscapes

a million dollar look:

a dollar purse
a smile on your face
a hole in your pocket
Charlotte Huston Feb 2017
What skyscraper towers above?
O’er the streets of New York?
O’er the couple in a tree?
O’er the passing cars,
To cast love in it’s walls -

With loneliness upon it’s brow;
Barren of anyone’s Love.
Daisy Vallely Oct 2016
I baked your skin onto the asphalt with my oven eyes
Between Macdougal and Bleecker street
Where i first met you.
Everything gray reminds me of you.
I envisioned myself
Breaking into song and dance
With everybody down every cross road,
Belting a ballad of beauty and admiration
About what you and I once were.
I relived that moment when i cried,
“She’s really gone this time”...
Yet as much as i missed her,
all i did was sway in the traffic
Of business men and women
And homeless dogs and all those
Crazy jazz cats.
I stepped precisely on each crack
I swear i didn’t mean to break your back,
Or my word that bound us
As close as the moon and the sun.
A funny promise that made my nose
Shrivel up.
I lay on the hot asphalt between Macdougal and Bleecker street,
Heartless,
Dreaming of you to come back to me.


© 2016 D.M.V
Storm Oct 2016
lights flashing through the city and polluting the air,
car horns honking and people colliding with your shoulder.
billboards flashing advertisements for the crowds below:
‘get a coke! stop by olive garden! try this phone service!’
and surrounding those screens, posters for the theater.
wicked, lion king, hamilton, and more
go to west 46th street and fight the crowd,
feel the excitement, hear the orchestra, touch the souvenirs,
let even a native new yorker become a tourist for one day
take your seat, admire the view, take some pictures,
listen to the ushers, watch the crowd settle, straighten as the lights dim.
everyone in places--it’s showtime.
When I was 7
I was watching Seinfeld with my dad
I asked him where they were
And he answered
New York
The city seemed so huge

When I was 17
I had my first panic attack
I was always watching *** and the city to calm down
New York
seemed huge
and that made me feel less claustrophobic

When I was 27
I went to
New york
The expectations were high
I was so surprised
when I felt suffocated
Cause it didn't seem huge anymore

What do you do when New York feels small?
James Leggett Sep 2016
stepping onto the E train
where it's so claustrophobic
you might as well cut out your lungs
and die

that would be a bit dramatic
though not as much as the pain
bottled up in the eyes
which want to cry but can't
looking through you not at you
just don't take it personally

walking along 3rd avenue
where cars colonize the street
like it's a newly found kingdom
labeling yourself a New Yorker is a title
not yet earned
since you still check Google Maps sometimes

why bother getting lunch two blocks down
at some unheard of but kinda cool pizza place
when there's a Chipotle right here
and Nintendo World is a few blocks away
and Midtown Comics is right around the corner
there's magic to this

setting your search on Tinder to one mile away
where your options are as endless as your "swipe lefts"
wondering if the next one is the one
it could be, couldn't it?

work ends and you reenter the flux of people
moving so fast it's like they're running away
maybe it's getting Happy Hour drinks
or simply going home

there's less summer every day
only a little bit of sunlight at the end
not much but something to cherish

the ******* about it being hot
will soon be the ******* about it being cold
seeing yourself march through a labyrinth of strangers
going here to there
sometimes with life scaring you
moving into territory without open arms
Aesthete Flower Sep 2016
It's strange how a few short seconds can lead you in a whole new direction,
It alters how you think and act and see your own reflection.
From a single moment on, my life was forever changed,
Like everything I previously knew had suddenly been rearranged.

No one will ever understand just how I felt that day,
But deep within this poem I shall try to convey.
I cannot even begin to illustrate the repulsive person I once knew.
I intend to simply express the horror that I went through.

I was abruptly pinned against the wall of a hard, rough concrete stairwell,
At two AM, in Hempstead, where not a soul was likely to dwell.
Suddenly I was captured, no possible way to escape.
Wondering if I deserved it, if it was truly my fate.

I tried to fly away, but my wings he had broke.
I was like an innocent cow, that he used to **** and poke.
My mind filled with confusion, and his filled with lust.
He took another part of me with each and every ******.

Tears like elegant pearls gracefully danced down my face,
I peered into his soul with a firm look of disgrace.
His cold touch like a vacuum, ******* out the life in me.
His ears were wide open, but he wouldn't hear my plea.

Standing there in the night, so scared, so exposed.
I was covered by a veil of darkness, like satin petals of a rose.
The glowing moon looked down at me, peaking through a massive blanket of stars.
I could touch it; it seemed so close, but it was really oh so far.

Worse than at the doctor; he injected me with filth and dirt.
His intention was deliberate; it was very clear and overt.
It is a bit funny that a piece of **** is all he'll ever be,
And the only thing that he accomplished doing in life-is me.

Sometimes late at night I simply can't fall sleep,
Thinking about how my innocence is no longer mine to keep.
What some can only imagine in their worst possible nightmare,
Is my gruesome reality that can't be undone nor repaired.

I may have the sweetest smile, glowing between my nose and chin.
But only I know the truth about the deep secrets held within.
I may have the prettiest eyes that have seen more than they should,
And have cried more delicate tears than anyone else ever could.

I may have the kindest heart, but that came with a cost.
It has felt the worst of pains, and experienced the greatest loss.
I cannot change the past, an event to which I succumbed.
But I can focus on the present, and change what is to come.

We are all so different, and yet so much the same.
Everyone, in some way or another, will experience a kind of pain.
Everybody has things they wish not to recall,
Into each life some rain must fall.

Scattered throughout our lives, like a friend that is one of a kind,
Dreary days will steadily approach, bad memories trailing behind.
These dark days are necessary, just as important as the rest,
For if we didn't have the worst, we couldn't recognize the best.
This is a true story about a young girl, who trusted the wrong person, and ended up hurt.
Ceyhun Mahi Aug 2016
The clouds slowly conceal sunlight at night,
Who then slowly reveal moonlight at night.

In this city roams the Moon of New-York,
Who's face reflects the city's light at night.

All kinds of people walk around up here,
In lit streets who're full with delight at night.

When this city is seen, it looks like an
Huge ocean of lights by eyesight at night.

Every time I look at this adorned place,
I fail to forget that bright sight at night.

At sunset this city becomes one square,
A place where people can unite at night.

From miles away you can see this city's
Presence and signs by it's skylight at night.

Every second someone gets Pleasure's kiss,
While another feels Despair's bite at night.

In here roam hedonistic people,
And people who are strict and tight at night.

In this city who never sleeps at night,
I hear singing in highs and deeps at night.


The breeze of the summer stays at night,
Witnesses the turning to days at night.

I can't fail to remember this city,
Since I've seen that luminous face at night.

Because of the countless sighs of lovers,
You can feel in the air Love's haze at night.

The city's melody is determined,
By what each individual plays at night.

The strangest of all and mundane of all;
Each one has occurred in this place at night.

The rich, the poor, the mad, women and men
All walk along light-adorned ways at night.

The lights reach every soul in this city,
Coming from hotels and cafes at night.

Wherever that Moon goes, it leaves it's mark,
At each place you'll find that Moon's trace at night.

It takes miles for pilgrims from far away,
To enter this place trough highways at night.

In this city who never sleeps at night,
I hear singing in highs and deeps at night.


The neon lights cover the street at night,
Who are set in places who fleet at night.

Traces of drama, tragedy and more,
Is felt in every hotel suite at night.

The homeless and party-goers here,
Both walk on tired and sore feet at night.

Meals on wheels at sight at every corner,
To serve people who want to eat at night.

Both the old and youth are called to places,
With pleasures who are bittersweet at night.

Streets who reflect neon lights in puddles,
Are places for lovers to meet at night.

So many people walk along themselves,
Yet there's no time to greet at night.

This awake city who is always breathing,
Always blows to me a conceit at night.

I can't seem to stop to describe this place!
About this jungle of concrete at night!

In this city who never sleeps at night,
I hear singing in highs and deeps at night.


This place witnesses misery at night,
And also witnesses beauty at night.

Millions of fishes are swimming around,
Trough streets in this luminous sea at night.

The gates stay open without any rest,
All people come and go freely at night.

Trough happiness and even ill horror,
This places stays silent and steady at night.

Those who're in love in this city see with
Little eyes, who perceive blurry at night.

Lovers are tangled up in each other,
While raindrops fall in an alley at night.

No one is an exception in this place,
Darkness veils your ethnicity at night.

Many have acquired shine up here,
And lost, in that shining city at night.

Ideas are hoisted out of my well!
Gihon will end his poetry, at night.

*In this city who never sleeps at night,
I hear singing in highs and deeps at night.
Poetic Form: Terkib-i Bent; several ghazals woven into each other but with a different rhyme for each stanza. Each ghazal is closed with a couplet who always comes back so that a next stanza can come in with a different rhyme.
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