In memoriam
I thought it appropriate to post something for the anniversary of the most shocking event I've experienced in my young life. I remember waking up on September 11th 2001 to my ringing cell phone. My roommate Justin was calling from work to tell me that a plane had crashed into one of the twin towers. I immediately turned on the television news to watch in disbelief as the first tower poured thick dark smoke into the air. Moments later I watched live as the second plane dispeared into the other tower. I will never forget that day.
I decided that I would post a couple of things I wrote that were inspired by these events. Actually, the first piece is something that I wrote well before (July 2001). I wasn't really writing about anything I was just putting things down as they came to me. Some time after 9/11 I came accross this and it was kind of eerie. It seemed somewhat pertinant after the fact. The other piece is one that I wrote after the events of 9/11 occurred and were inspired by them.
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the beginning of a war (July 2001)
I'll tell you now, though i know you're not listening
the beginning of a war is at the very door
and no one will be left to stand
no guard will be left undropped
no vessel of blood and water unburst
no nightmare unrepeated
every triad overturned and balancing on the point tentatively
eyes have filled the room but no room for ears
to gather attentively to lips with torn out tongues
I tell you there is a war
and hell, mouth open wide, inhales
try and throw your stones, but harder than that
a dent or a scratch is hardly noticed
but a mile gets further and further to walk, further to run
thick gray smoke puts its hands over your eyes
puts its fingers to the back of your throat to scratch
there is lead in the bloodstream forming a candlestick
to hold a shaft of wax without a candlewick
there is nothing incandescent to campare to the expiring moon
and the thinness of the air is a brilliant strategy
the placement of the sun, obtrusive and defensive,
an advertisement for light
my turniquet loosed, the blood rushed, the concrete gasped for air
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9:11 a.m. (nothing but a sterile page of paper)
Oct. 2nd, 2001
the four frames
holding the earth in place
are twisting in commotion
earth separating from ocean
and land becoming sea
a worthless worry
why my hands can't
stop my eyes from bleeding
leaving salty stains to mark this
separation
(of matter, of mind, of spirit)
my thoughts, quieted enough,
most resemble this image of you
in the kitchen, at the table
staring through the saline
at my picture
i laid up for days
with nothing but a sterile page of paper
and a broken pencil
trying to write a letter
and it's been hell and five days of waiting
to find you (named as a survivor,
i waited in hell for five days
just to know if i could write her)
under a blind focus
and blistering heat
the city's bones upon my back
a melting earth beneath my feet
my sinews twisting on the rack
and silence
the air as still as the broken ocean
for days, for hours, then...it ends
memory ripples in
sends you through me in a shiver
makes waves follow wave
and back again
brings me to you like a whisper and
spills onto me like the rain
you are the strength still remaining in my diaphragm
and the air its pulling in
the ground beneath my blisters
splits and separates
under the wave of wings still beating
and this incredible climb is like
a lifetime chasing after the light of the new moon
in the whites of your bloodshot eyes
just keep singing and
i will find you by the breeze
the body heals and the heart is a compass
pointing home
where you, in the kitchen, at the table
still set a place for me
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