"newyork" poems
flower child.
so soft spoken and sweet.
you are my hippy sister.
fashionista you set trends.
I love your vibe.
so calm and carefree.
with a creative mind and unique soul
you are art.
I can imagine you with a
big curly fro.
paint cans, brushes and canvases
cluttering your NewYork flat
as sounds of
Lana del Rey and Jhene Aiko
fill your apartment
and posters of
Aubrey Graham
grace your walls
ten years from now.
O.Rob.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 4:18 PM UTC
When i was knee high
Could i ever cry for our countries gone under
Because we had to surrender
Shredded by German's plunder
Yet i rejoiced and thanked God
when the sun was shinning
I did a lot of day dreaming
watching the clouds as they went by
The only jewells i saw were the daisies by the road
their perfect little rows
of white petals , center gold
I dreamt of far away lands where people were free
free to speak, free of fear and striffe
America land of my dreams
you were floting in my inner space like a desert's mirage
I clung to it with determination
until the day, it came into action
Young Gi's fresh faced, full of youth
smiled at us from their metal girth
tanks, cannons, guns and the likes
They looked so vulnerable and young
they held my hand " small " in theirs " strong"
in their palms well fed and reassuring
they could be so loving to a little girl
who defied dying
So land of my dreams you will come true
In my heart you grew and grew
till one day, i will see NewYork bay
Land of my dreams you will be mine
Colette Anne Naegle
1945
I wrote it at twelve when America blew down the **** sign in Berlin
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 4:17 AM UTC
When i was knee high
Could i ever cry for our countries gone under
Because we had to surrender
Shredded by German's plunder
Yet i rejoiced and thanked God
when the sun was shinning
I did a lot of day dreaming
watching the clouds as they went by
The only jewells i saw were the daisies by the road
their perfect little rows
of white petals , center gold
I dreamt of far away lands where people were free
free to talk, free of fear and striffe
America land of my dreams
you were floting in my inner space like a desert's mirage
I clung to it with determination
until the day, it came into action
Young Gi's fresh faced, full of youth
smiled at us from their metal girth
tanks, cannons, guns and the likes
They looked so vulnerable and young
they held my hand " small " in theirs " strong"
in their palms well fed and reassuring
they could be so loving to a little girl
who defied dying
So land of my dreams you will come true
In my heart you grew and grew
till one day, i will see NewYork bay
Land of my dreams you will be mine
Colette Anne Naegle
1945
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 4:17 AM UTC
Around this particular time i can recall bonfires on a Far Rockaway beach
in between two and three AM
The fire; a heap of AM newyork papers burning in a rusted trash can stolen from the boardwalk.
Kiah was beautiful
her hair, coarse honey ringlets framed
a narrow face. I watched her eat grapes
and pull her hair away from her eyes a couple
of times. She ate the grapes and their juice made her lips glossy she did this and sipped on a Corona
her boyfriend sat behind her playing the guitar
and no attention to anyone. I wanted him.
A few days before that I was in his room
He asked if I ever heard Shaggy's "Mr. Bombastic"
that's what was playing when she walked into the room
she stared at me like a cat plotting an attack
walked past me like one too
the night before that I lay on the floor
of his room. There was no furniture
a motor bike in the corner. Some drums,
and various painted wood boards hung up, some laying
on the floor. Oil pastels scattered along with
screws, and bolts. while he played
maxwell on his guitar, acrylic paint under his finger nails.
I woke on the floor with a fuzzy purple throw blanket over me he was still in the same spot strumming and,
smoking a beedie when the sun came up
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
*1970
He sat next to me in Junior school
when I was just a little girl.
Always so sweet to me
I really liked him…
well ….
no much more than that.
1974
At middle school
he carried my books
home from school.
we became best friend's.
1979
At high school
I gave him my pin
he gave me
his friendship ring.
he was my date
for the prom.
1983
we both went away
to college together.
I was lonely and slipped
into his bed he held me safe.
we broke the chains of friendship.
And he became my lover.
my one and only lover.
1988
We married young.
Our parents were
not surprised.
They were expecting it.
1994
we have three kids now
two girls and a boy.
Our son looks just like him.
when we first met
so long ago.
September 10 2001
He came home from work
just like any other day.
Put burgers on the barbeque.
We got the kids to bed
had a glass of wine.
And went to bed at Ten.
He wanted me
but I was exhausted
the kids had been terrors all day.
September 11 2001
he left early for work
with a cheek kiss
and a see you later Honey.
The kids went to school
I poured a coffee
the phone rang it was my
best friend.
Have you seen the news
she said.?
I put on the TV.
the towers fell to ashes
as did my life at that moment.
No tears came
All I could think was
I wish
I had made love to him last night.
September 11 2015
The kids are all grown now.
he would be so proud of them.
Our son looks just like him.
We all stand
at ground zero
and say a prayer.
I whisper
it was you honey
always you.
He answered me.
At that moment
a huge arc of a rainbow
circled the sky over NewYork.
And I know for sure.
It was for me.*
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
Oh, it was so romantic
and he put it on his computer
where I have my password taped
that I look at every day and can't remember
and I didn't ask for his, and I left it all up in the air
where it should stay, and at times I can barely remember his name
So the same, stepping lightly out over the abyss
will I float or fall or float for awhile and then careen down to
the ground and smash? And It was in the teacher's lounge and he still
gave me that look of genuine interest that makes me sure
he wonders what I look like naked, and
I wonder if he's cute enough or if he'll be mean
Because a lot of them are I've found and for some
reason an early memory surfaces from a dinner long past
with my boyfriend who I'd marry,
and we were finding out about a dinner party me and my boyfriend
who became my husband and what
was to be served and the Madame said "Eet will be a fish and
eet will be cold." And we laughed later and it was a cold fish but not fishy,
and not good, because who wants to eat a cold fish
in December in NewYork?
And now my number is on a Post-it on his computer and I can only
wait and see and I do admit I wonder what he looks like naked.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 9:59 PM UTC
sometime
s
I wish
I
was a fashion designer or someonelikethat maybe living in newyork being botheredbymynicotineaddiction but happy to not have to go stand intherain
wearing bellsleevesonatuesday and feeling n i c e and callingmymotherbefore dinner and having lunch withmybest friend and her dog
and living a life asleep
sometimes
it feels good towishicouldbe someone else and to know that instead i will alway
s
b e m e
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 7:00 PM UTC
What Love commands the train fulfills,
The six thirty bounds to Coney Island
Where the green Ubers awaits the passengers
Morning greetings, (Urdu) of few words, were the
Pakistan, rules Mermaid Street with the neon green
Were too mama? where too, two dollars:
A repeat routine for most of us,
Whether you’re a morning person or a night owl, we all start our day at some point. And we all seem to start it differently. (Kevan Lee)
Five forty showers, get dress out the door before six a.m.
Grab the garbage, and walk three to the subway,
where love commands the train fulfills, which lessened
My morning depression until midday, (who control whom)
Why was I born, why am even here, what is my personal worth?
Timeless question, who would remember me, when I am gone?
The train, the cabbies, would the streets miss my dragging feet?
Self-observation, is it worth a Newyork minute of whom will miss us. (really)
Void, void, void, void, void, void, void, and more void,
Just allowed the few that might to do some adjustments
For the sake of remembering me, for the sake of losing my car fare,
For the sake of not receiving, my monthly fees, and T-Mobile
you definitely would, release me from my grandfather plans:
Today, I sit in silence, away from all sounds, only the sounds
Of a keyboard, and my heartbeat, as the mouse goes click, click
For the sake of remembering is that a poet is only good at recollecting, reflecting, and making his audience believes in his words:
Oct 27, 2021
Oct 27, 2021 at 8:42 AM UTC
off the aeroplane
meeting me is christ
he doesn't say a word
he only fries rice
useless tables
are useless politicians
they should be practical
but you can't throw them in the chipper
i'm in-between cupboards
and in-between wards
playing drunk on the piano
so i'm not drafted into war
born sick
and commanded to be well
asking jesus for the secrets
that the useless **** cannot tell
back on the aeroplane
which only now is a spitfire
i'll see you all in newyork
and with all our hearts tired
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 6:10 AM UTC