New York City Day And Life Poem by Captain Cur

New York City Day And Life



Steel and metal, bolts and screws,
Cement mixers, gravel crews,
Building highways, building roads,
Commuting far from our abodes.

Skyline structures, building plans,
Sewage systems, hydro dams,
Serpentine slithered ridge,
Arching braids, Cable Bridge.

Hollowed tunnels, strobing lights
Matrix seams holding tight,
Sucked inside, spewed without
Underwater submerged route.

Swerving, veering, honeycombing,
Traffic patterns, weaving, roaming.
Insect martyrs, stained glass shields.
Eighteen-wheelers never yield,

Climbing, crawling up your spine,
Upgrades fleeting they decline,
Downgrades wild maverick thrills,
Air brakes hissing through their gills.

Gridlock, fuming, traffic jam,
Imposition, idling hands,
Ruthless stealing parking sleuth,
Every gesture now uncouth.

Punched the clock at one to nine,
Time for coffee, then unwind,
Myriad meetings, liquid lunch,
Brainstorming in a crunch.

New York Post, right wing kernel,
Times, News, Wall Street Journal,
All the news that's fit to mint,
Propagandized cyber print.

Laptops, iPads, iPhones, Droids,
Captured eyeballs techno void,
Facebook, gaming, pull the plug,
Fattened calves are now our young.

Greed, graft, pillaged pensions,
Occupy Wall Street, rising tensions,
Trampling tents with police ponies,
Corrupt judges, political cronies.

Stocks, bonds, futures, hedges,
Market crashes, men on ledges,
Powerhouses that go broke,
Failing banks, worthless notes.

Culture, arts, diverse centers,
China, Italy, foreign vendors,
Soho, Chelsea, United Nations
Translating pronunciations.

Empire State, Liberty torch,
Freedom's crumbled horrid cost.
Phantom towers in the sky,
Tears that must refuse to dry.

Firefighters, police, medics,
First responders come and get us,
Devoid of fear to save a life,
Orphaned children, widowed wife.

Central Park, summer days,
Films, bookstores, theater, plays.
Diamond district, restaurant guides,
Nostalgic horse and carriage rides.

Subway, buses, dual port planes,
Locomotives, Metro trains,
Moving chattel, rolling stock,
Railroading round the clock.

One to five, sun is falling,
Diverse ethic foods are calling,
Traveling over tar pitched roads
Trailing back to our abodes.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Valsa George 10 April 2013

To those who have been to the mad rush, the stupendous swell of activities and the sky high structures and winding bylanes of New York city, this poem serves as a mirror to reflect over what they have seen there. A wonderful write in all graphic details!

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Shahzia Batool 17 February 2013

A filigree work... a studded poem... a graphic write up... a marvel of all nouns and noun-phrases... a lesson of inflections, and a pleasure-read! a pen-picture of New York City...day and life!

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