April 30, 2007

• Three Kings.

   

  [On my first day in NYC I was at Grand Central Station and was struck by this image of 3 homeless men sleeping in the middle of the food court, with everyone oblivious--or callous--to their existence.  I gave the remainder of a panini sandwich to another guy who was rummaging through the trash while everyone else walked on by jovially and then decided that during the rest of the trip I'd compose a little ditty for them...yes, I am dork like that.]

   

  Now here is the story of The Franksabunch’s™ search for the soul of New York

  (And I’m going to try to make it rhyme without sounding like a dork)

  It starts here in this city whose tragedy made the nations weep

  It starts here in Grand Central Station with three kings sitting silently asleep

   

  

  In a city where a thousand different languages are heard every day

  No one cares to listen to what these three kings have to say

  In a city with thousands of manmade fires stretching as far as you can see

  No one leaves a light on at home for any of these three

  

   

  Pondering why I set out to find out the reason for these 3 kings’ existence

  And found similarity in what should have been difference

  I found that it is the diversity of loneliness that permeates who we are

  Creating one million souls huddled so close yet living apart and far

   

  One million souls from many different worlds and places

  Still not a single smile can be seen on their faces

  In subway stations, the trains or the luminous streets

  Eye contact is treated like a tumble in Typhoid Mary’s sheets

   

  How have we become so devoid of warmth, care and concern in this day

  Where even the monuments seem to be running away

  To see Lady Liberty you must pay a fee to reach a distant shore

  

  As if to remind us that freedom is not so free here anymore

   

  But perhaps it is so because of what has been lost

  Love, you see, always comes at a great cost

  And with all those who died when the terrorists left their mark

  

  Keeping out others is an easy way to keep out the dark

   

  Yet there is more to this city than such a sorrowful sound

  This is also a city where strength and pride abound

  Where a simple promise brings architects, professors and engineers

  To this foreign place to peddle their childrens' futures in buttons, peanuts and beers

   

  A place where heroes were born and died on the very same day

  

  A place where our sorrowful hearts will eternally rage to stay

  A place where one million souls raise their fists amidst the fear

  That despite your greatest evil we are still here

   

  And for all my search to find what the soul of New York could be

  I did not need to look much further than these kings numbering three

  For it is the Morlocks--and not the Eloi--that define every nation

  It is not the rich, but rather the poor we see here in grand central station

   

  They have been broken and beaten but are still here surviving

  For in this city dreams are always growing and hope is always arriving

  So you can tear up the earth and you can bring down the sky

  But we are New York...and we will remain standing until the day we die.

  

  ----

  Okay, no mo' cheezey poetry.  Back to prose (after some pics) next time.   Have a great week! 

  And CONGRATS to UH who had 5 players drafted to the NFL!  Only 5 colleges had as many or more players drafted than UH!

  • 9:22 am
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