Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Cityscape

for veronica


it is cold today.

the wind is bitter and on a rampage

- cold and deliberate

targeting every one in her path.

folks are finally packing up their folding chairs

and abandoning their porches by reason of autumns bleak blossom.

vibrantly colored scarves are draped for the draft

under ill fitting fall coats.

wooden toggles timidly stretch across satiated summer bellies.

the loquacious mouths of the bus-stop regulars keep quiet now

as mouths must double as warming devices for wrinkled fingers.

philly natives fall in to rhythm

while southern souls, like me,

stay stiff

and off beat

trying to get the hang of thanking god for the warmth of 40 degrees.

homeless men and women

waste no time in worry

the impending season,

sends them in survival mode

an intrepid scour

through downtown for shelter.

most settle for populated parks, heat vents in the middle of busy sidewalks

and underground train terminals that reek of desperate piss.

black garbage bags, heavy with scrap material and newspaper,

sit beside them like the loyal stray dog they can't afford to keep.

there is so much around me.

so much to see.

the streets are busy in whizzing whirls of traffic.

impatient drivers raise fists, pound on horns, and text with the free hand

pedestrians ignore crosswalk demands and chatter on cell phones but manage to keep their way.

i am rushing

- trying to catch the trolley i know is dropping off riders as a line forms outside of the double doors.

i try to run sometime, but only manage to muster a slight gallop.

most of the time the trolley has passed and i lean against the chipped green pole

and get a book out to read as i wait for the next one.

today, i was lucky.

i caught the line and even got a seat to myself.

i'm seeing the world with different eyes now-a-days.

i find myself looking out for things i'd love to share with you when you come visit

i tell myself that it is healthy to think about other things, too,

and i manage to take my mind off of you

but even when you're not in the front of my thoughts,

you blend into the background like the perfect soundtrack

as i navigate the cityscape.

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Womanchild, .know.love.be. Thyself.

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a womanchild in a land where nothing is promised. my belly births a bundle of sounds. words live inside my head. sometimes they stay there for years. aching to marinate. i await for spices to calm them. saturate them. give them life.taste.rhythm. i share it through sound.words. i write lovepoems & politicalprose. i stay singing. i'm often laughing. and always loving.