Daybreak Poem by Tom Billsborough
Daybreak
New York's dawn contains
Four mired columns
And a hurricane of black doves
Which paddle in putrid water.
New York's dawn groans
Along immense stairways,
Seeking between ledges
Tuberoses of delineated anguish.
Dawn comes and no-one welcomes it
In the mouth for neither morning nor hope
can occur. At times, coins in swarms of fury
Pierce and devour abandoned children.
The first to emerge know in their bones
There will be no paradise nor natural love;
They know they enter the mire of figures and laws,
And artless games and fruitless sweat.
The Light is buried in chains and noises
In the shameless challenge of rootless science.
Within the suburbs, sleepless crowds now stagger,
As if escaping from a shipwreck of blood.
I can briefly appreciate the spectacle of large cities, but could not live there; not even for one day
I feel the same. The only City I liked was Prague, mainly for the double meals at the University and the incredibly cheap beer! the spiced dumplings weren't too bad either. Actually it didn't feel like a City. Traffic was light and it had a very good tram system. London always strikes me as a cold place. Luckily I live on the outer boundary of a village and it's rural, mainly dairy farms nearby. Hope you enjoyed Independence Day and managed a wee dram or two! Your series with Wes is going well. Might join in again soon! Tom
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 2:19:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I have a friend who lives in NYC and loves it, but I have been there a few times and didn't enjoy it except for visiting the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty.
I find Cities tiring and an awful lot of queuing. Paris, for instance. Yet there are sights worth seeing. as you say.