Brooklyn Poems

I was once a Rose Blooming in Brooklyn

If I tell you I saw a rose blooming in the heart of winter, you might not believe me, especially if you're among those who struggle to stay afloat. But that rose serves as a powerful reminder of something we’ve forgotten. For me, it represents resilience and hope.

During summer, I often ponder whether we ever

Pave the Adirondacks

They told me, "Leave Brooklyn, find the green,"  
"Head upstate, change the scene,"  
Nature's arms open wide,  
So I took that long Amtrak ride.

I knew there were bobcats, I knew there was bear
So I took my pit-bull Chewbacca, any bear would beware
His last victim was a carjacker on the lam.
Teeth clamped on

My Brooklyn

There may have been neighborhoods
with green lawns, playgrounds, and ballfields
a short walk from houses with enough
bedrooms for everyone.
Houses that stood apart from one another,
so owners could park cars in garages
set towards the back and then walk on paved
walkway to back doors leading to kitchens
with modern appliances,

 
but I live with five others in a three-bedroom
six-room

Brooklyn

Brooklyn 

Salt beef with onion
sandwiches.
Goat cheese made 
near the wailing wall
The waiter
is a scientist.

Intelligent eyes
behind thick-lensed glasses
do not dare to leave a tip.
The burden of my ancestors
weighed heavy on my mind.

The chicken soup was excellent
I shan´t return
Before 
Palestine is a sovereign state

The Upper Room At Green and Grand In Brooklyn

A single blue bird perched above the rest
Not all birds of a feather flocked together;
Each mount with reverence brought comfort much closer,
Time's passages once feared, held a single test.

The test of a life time suited and disguised,
The unknown harbors lessons to be learned
Solitary souls do find their way home -
I have seen shriveled dead folks

Crooklyn

Brooklyn, New York is my hometown,
There's always something going down.

So many different places, Religions, and races,
Walking so fast you'll only get a glimpse of their faces.

A huge melting pot located in the County of Kings,
Where the sirens of firetrucks, ambulances, and cop cars sing.

Good Old Brooklyn, where the great times never end,
There's a Pub or

Brooklyn Cyclone Number Nine

Brooklyn Cyclone number nine 
Is not ready to decline 
Clipity clop it climbs 
Into the blue sky where the sun shines 
Until it turns orange while enjoying evening wine 
There is magic in the air 
Summer loving with the one who cares 
Flashing lights all around 
Tradition of a rural community fairground
Instead this is on

A Mango Tree In Brooklyn

A Mango Tree In Brooklyn
 
A mango is not only a fruit it’s an island
An image of memories, it organic taste
This represents the first bite to the last:
Tracing back to its originality, 
Tropical warmth, which smooths the lips
The sweet, succulent taste is noticeable:

Somehow, the roots refuse to grow
In Brooklyn, amount the sandy earth
Where the suffering

Evening In Brooklyn

The former home of the Brooklyn Dodgers lives on!  
Some of my loved ones still live there
Brooklyn has some things going for it
Such as the great Brooklyn Museum 
and the Botanical Gardens
Coney Island is unique 
  And the borough has the Brooklyn Cyclones team 
and the Brooklyn Nets
basketball team 
Famous people have called

Clothesline View of Brooklyn

Window viewing a wall
knows no world other than
brick square against nothing;
laundry blows in the yellow
tinged wind. Flaps mimic
birds flying. Bras trapped by 
wooden pins, splintering. Grey 
points piercing smoldering
dust and fiber on its way
to the refuse below. A push 
from an unseen hot whisper
of foul breath smashes it
into a window viewing a wall.

Pulaski Street

tired, chain driven trucks 
coal pouring into basements 
ice up five long flights

Brooklyn Bound

White ...

frost-clad

cabled vaults -

join thoughts to sky ...

my city slumbers 'neath its cloak of snow.






~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Make It Five" Poetry Contest, Joseph May, Judge & Sponsor.

( Syllables = 1, 2, 3, 4, 10 - counted at HowManySyllables.com )

Brooklyn Noreaster

White
Winter
Comes with snow—
Traffic’s banished,
As wind plays the Bridge like a theremin.

September 23, 2019

Brooklyn Bridge In Winter

It's
snowing
on the bridge
this winter day
with a pathway of awe inspiring drifts

__________________________
September 20, 2019


Poetry/Tetractys/Brooklyn Bridge in Winter
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1182-583-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.


Written for the contest, Make it Five
sponsor, Joseph May, Inspiration image #2

First Place

A Bigger Slice of Sky

A Bigger Slice of Sky

The sky was only visible
in long narrow slices
while we played on 
one-way
Brooklyn streets 
Thick with kids

apartment houses 
one next to the other
lined the sidewalks
like great canyon walls
rising six or eight stories
while the sun moved 
through the day
creating hard edged
shadows that flowed
and softened 
with each passing hour

street level storefronts 
shoulder to shoulder
with

• Short Brooklyn Poems
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