Ten mile peninsula in Queens, N.Y.,
nighttime jetties of moonlight white caps,
waves rising and ebbing.
My grandfather walking with me on the
daylight shore so many summers ago.
My dreams of Rockaway unfaded.
Watched the WTC twin towers being built
through binoculars.
Rockaway, in my soul's nostalgia
you still beckon.
Salted lips quenched by Coca-Cola.
The youth within me can still hear
the seagulls calling in the breeze,
and still see the amusement park
under 4th of July fireworks.
Dada, I miss you and Rockaway.
Categories:
rockaway, 7th grade, 8th grade,
Form: Free verse
Rock away baby
in your tree top,
When Earth winds blow
our cradle can't stop
And all Her Queen's horses
and all old bald white men
can't put Her regathered
together again.
Her welts raise our stories
of struggle and sin,
our strengths are new songs
about old wounds gone wrong.
Categories:
rockaway, age, earth, health, integrity,
Form: Lyric
to walk a tightrope, to engineer a train, to walk into a lions cage, to freefall from a plane
to ride the cyclone in coney island, to ride the bumper cars in rockaway park
to ride a ferris wheel at a carnival, to ride the carousel in central park
to captain a tugboat, to work in compressed air
to sail a boat around the world, to race a horse at a fair
to capture a moment with a loved one, to enjoy sex with the person of your dreams
to act out your wildest erotic thoughts, to skinny dip in a cold stream
to play poker for stakes you cannot afford, to hoist a few with friends
to do anything you love to do, that's living. The rest is waiting
Categories:
rockaway, inspirational
Form: Narrative
White lips curl furiously as warm hands reach for the mouth that speaks so loud.
Swallow—swallow.
Gracious god falling from the sky; there dies my warmth, there dies my youth.
Silently rushing, chasing—gulping. Lips curling kissing the soft, demure land.
From this window I’m perched to picnic and think.
White lips—kissing—such fizzle frazzled as salt spread thinly, plainly across her bare
back...she needs a hand to smooth her lines of fault.
Oh the age she hides!
...the years she’s gone without a crank to lift her bare boned backless face.
Sinking, sinking---SANK.
Green illumination garnished the canvas sky.
A flash, a bulb, another shard of life to wake.
I fog---I fold and yet they curl! they snarl.
Categories:
rockaway, nature, sea,
Form: Blank verse