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It was a crisp
September morning
Very unassuming
When 20 trolls
Jerks who would take 3000
Lives
Lives plucked from this planet
Brutally
As the planes attacked there targets
The world changed for ever
        11
        175
         75
        93
We wake up
Every morning,
Not knowing
It may be
Our last
Let’s love ourselves, for tomorrow is uncertain.
Candi Mar 2019
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
?-?-04
This poem was inspired by the Ballad of Birmingham by Dudley Randall
MicMag Sep 2018
|      two       |          |   a nation   |
|      twin      |          |   built on   |
|    towers    |          | ideals and |
|    rising      |          |  grandest   |
|    so high   |          | immigrant |
|    up into   |          |    dreams    |
|    the sky   |          | (and yes...   |
|    repre-     |          |   on slave    |
|    senting   |          |   labor too)  |
|    soaring   |          |    a nation    |
|   ambition  |         |  of mighty   |
|   & wealth  |         |  paradoxes  |
-------------------------------------------------­-----------

                       and then
                      ...BOOM...
                  world changed


             all                              all        
        reduced     ­                broken    
      to heaping                 by hateful  
    piles of rubble          brainwashed
  and raw emotion     men drowned in
tears & fears & rage.tears & fears & rage
------------------------------------------------------------­


we rose from the ashes
united in mourning
national pride swelling
emotions still swirling

we warmly embraced
neighbors and friends
overwhelmed with grief
paralyzed by anguish

we explosively cursed
those enemies who'd hurt us
simmering in anger
engulfed in fiery rage

we boldly surged into war
to defend and protect
blinded by our deep-set fears
dead-set on vengeance

we let the years pass
we still remember
we still recover
we still rebuild

we still rise

from what is clear
but to where?

please let us be wise
Written quite a few years ago reflecting on the terrible, world-shaking events of 9/11.

Still left wondering the same questions.

How will we remember and honor those who died?

How (and to what) will we rise?
MicMag Sep 2018
Never has this nation stood as tall
As the day after its great fall
But now?
So many years after we've risen?
Not in ages have we seen such division

Divided we fall
   and united we stand?
Have we somehow flipped
   the values of this land?
That terrible day
   mourning hand in hand
Has faded away
   to competing demands
   of Make Us Greats
   and Yes We Cans

Now we stand opposed
   diametrically divided
Wondering
   if ever again
   we'll stand
   happily united
In reflection of the national unity in the days following 9/11/01, and where we've gone ever since.
Jason Harris Sep 2016
You were fourteen in Dr. A.’s class
when on that day you proclaimed
to have learned nothing and on that
day Dr. A. held no doctorate degree.

You were fourteen in Dr. A.’s class
when bodies: sick, overweight, in-shape
fell from buildings and into to TV screens
into history books, only to be stuck forever

in a New York newsreel in their Tuesday
outfits with Monday night’s love and touch
brewing, aged and earthy, from their falling
lives. If you listen closely on the eve of this day

the wind still whispers their scent of perfume
trails, still whispers what really happened
that busy day in the clouds, in the sky.
I was ten and can’t recall where I was

or in whose company but like the waters
stretched between Europe, Africa, and the
America’s, I was (am) far removed, was (am)
still putting together the blue-black lineage

of my triangular history that drowned
in the salty waters stretched, flowing
between three continents. But fifteen
years later, we (you and I) have overcome

the billowing black clouds of Tuesdays
the Monday night upsets, and the routed
maritime of our ancestors. 15 years later
you are still alive with your blue eyes

and clear face, are still four years my senior
are still my guiding light and sight of sun.
Alan W Jankowski Dec 2011
Let the world always remember,
That fateful day in September,
And the ones who answered duty's call,
Should be remembered by us all.

Who left the comfort of their home,
To face perils as yet unknown,
An embodiment of goodness on a day,
When men's hearts had gone astray.

Sons and daughters like me and you,
Who never questioned what they had to do,
Who by example, were a source of hope,
And strength to others who could not cope.

Heroes that would not turn their back,
With determination that would not crack,
Who bound together in their ranks,
And asking not a word of thanks.

Men who bravely gave their lives,
Whose orphaned kids and widowed wives,
Can proudly look back on their dad,
Who gave this country all they had.

Actions taken without regret,
Heroisms we shall never forget,
The ones who paid the ultimate price,
Let's never forget their sacrifice.

And never forget the ones no longer here,
Who fought for the freedoms we all hold dear,
And may their memory never wane,
Lest their sacrifices be in vain.

09-30-10b.
There is now a video interview with me talking about this poem, filmed Sunday, Sept. 8, 2013 in front of City Hall, here in South Amboy, N.J...it posted along with my poem, on various Gannett news sites on the East Coast on Sept. 11...
http://www.mycentraljersey.com/videos/life/2014/07/25/13185429/

Oh, could say a few things about this one...it's been in print at least 15 times that I'm aware of, and probably far more...and was used in more 9/11 ceremonies this past tenth anniversary than I will ever know...the stuff with the school kids, scout troupes and the like is always touching...made a list actually of some places it appeared...
http://www.storiesspace.com/forum/yaf_postst538_My-911-Tribute-poem-has-been-in-print-at-least-fourteen-times-in-2011.aspx
Yeah, this one got pretty big...and it's only the first year...
Ava Sep 2014
today i asked my mom what happened on 9/11 here is how that conversation went
me: what happened on 9/11
mom: Well, a plane crash-
me: what really happened
mom:(sigh) I was nursing you
mom:i found out, by a phone call. it was grandma karen, she called and asked if your dad was ok
me:Then what
mom: I called him
mom:he said he was hungry so he went to get mcdonalds before his flight
me:wait, he was supposed to be on that flight?
mom: he missed his 1st class boarding and they wouldn't let him on.
me:wow
mom: we were 5 minutes away from losing him. but that idiot wanted mcdonalds(crying) and he missed...his...bleeping flight!!!
Mom: you were barely over a year and your father was nearly killed
me:oh my gosh
mom:
me:
mom: then, i turned on the news in time to see the second tower fall.
me:
mom: it was strangely beautiful, no, thats not the word.... it was

captivating,

like a bad car wreck you can't look away from. and the world stopped, and inside i was praying to god even though i had never prayed before in my life.
me:
mom: thats what happened on 9/11
me:
mom: thats what happened
The bustle,
The bristle,
Many jeans, blue sky

The Taxis,
Yellow seams
Knitting
The city inside

A memory,
A vision,
Of a faraway land

Here now,
Feeling strongly
As death in a hand

A corner
Of horror
Cries from the tomb

I heard
Her say
Babies died in wombs

Chaos, heroes
Intimate revulsion
Try
Try again
No anger, but sinking emotion

The demons
All saints
Battled till the death

This place
Hallowed yard
Did we meet the test?

No laughter
no matter
We're still seeking the lost

Their faces
Etched smiles
Remain hanging on the cross

The weight
Our burden?
Who’s allowed to carry it now?

Closed eyes
Tears sting
I approach the grave
And
bow.
I travelled to NYC 10 years after September 11 terrorists attack on my homeland.  I felt the graves, I felt the wounds, I felt a sacred place of anguish.  I had to write.

— The End —