GOTHAM GOSSIP |
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Written by: P: 212-332-9991 718-885-6576 A chatty, informative column of New York events featuring places, people and personalities and celebrities. demetriadaniels@gmail.com
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Tuesday, September 12, 2006
It has been five years since I started this column. I had decided to write about New York right after 9/ll and because of 9/11, to show the essence and heartbeat of Gotham, where I was born and raised. I have covered all the aspects of what makes New York so vibrant, its arts, literature, its culture, its social functions and nightlife because I am a part of the whole and I vibrate along with the energy and the non-stop creativity that exudes from the island. I feel the pulse and beat with it. Last night I was at the New York Public Library for a program to honor the book of photographs of 9/11, AFTERMATH, by Joel Meyerowitz. Paul Holdengraber, the organizer of the Library's series called "Live from the NYPL", spoke about "making silences speak". Mayor Bloomberg's message was that it was "the worst day in our city". The images and stories in the book took 9 months of shooting and being at "Ground Zero" and covers 8,000 images. Encouraged by the Museum of the City of NY, and published by Phaidon, it is an archive of the twin towers, so needed for our sorrow, our pain, a requiem for the city and its citizens. The following is my original poem about 9/11. A CHESTNUT TREE by Demetria Daniels I WENT TO PICK THE CHESTNUTS FROM THE TREE ON THIS DAY OF MOURNING THEY HAD FALLEN IN THEIR SPINEY SHELL AND I FOUND THREE ON THE WET GROUND IN PROSPECT PARK SOMEHOW THEY MADE ME FEEL BETTER FOR I HAVE FELT SO BAD, SO SAD FOR MY COUNTRY FOR I HAD STOOD ON THE ROOF AND WATCHED TWO TOWERS DISAPPEAR THREE DAYS LATER, I AM WITH TEARS AND I FELT LIKE A FOOL, DUMBED AND NUMB UNABLE TO SPEAK TO THIS FREAK PICTURE IN THE SKY ISLAM HAD CRUSHED NEW YORK TO CRIPPLE DEMOCRACY, IN THEIR HYPOCRISY AND I SAW ALLAH, RIDING A BLACK HORSE, SWINGING A SWORD, AND CARRYING THE KORAN I WATCHED THE BURNING, I WATCHED THE SMOKE THINKING TO MYSELF, IS THIS A JOKE? BUT NO JOKE IT WAS, A VIRTUAL REALITY THE ACRID SMELL FLOATED IN THE AIR TO BROOKLYN AND BEYOND, LIKE A PYRE, I COULD SEE THE FIRE LIGHTING THE BLUE CLOUDLESS SKY AND THEN JUST SMOKE, STILL NO JOKE AND I WONDERED, WAS THAT THE WORD OF OUR GOD, OR SOME MONSTER BY THIS BARBARIC MOB HAS OIL SO WON, SHALL WE TURN TO BUTTER, OR THE OLIVES FROM THE TREES SO AS I PICK UP CHESTNUTS, FALLEN IN THEIR SPINY SHELL AS ALL THE DEMONS, ARE TURNED LOOSE FROM HELL I CRY FOR ALL THOSE LIVES LOST AND ALL THOSE SOULS NO MORE DREAMS, NO MORE GOALS ASHES TO ASHES, DUST TO DUST, WHERE IS OUR DEFENSE SYSTEM, GONE TO RUST? THIS IS A PLAN, OF WELL FIVE YEARS, HURTING US, BRINGING US TO TEARS, AND BEFORE THEY CRASHED, AND BEFORE THEY DIED, THEY SCREAMED ALLAH, IN THEIR PRIDE. BUT OUR PRESIDENT HAS SPOKEN, BLINDED WITH TEARS, THAT WE WILL OVERCOME, WITHIN YEARS. EACH FLAME LIT, A VIGIL DONE, WE'LL WAGE WAR, AND MAKE THEM RUN, AND FROM THOSE ASHES, THE FLAG STILL FLIES, WORLD TRADE WILL GO ON AND THE PHOENIX WILL RISE AND I WILL GO BACK TO THE PARK TO FIND MORE CHESTNUTS, FALLEN FROM THE BARK SEPTEMBER 14, 2001 |