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Valsa George


The Faceless City


Once I have been to that city
The city of ritzy splendour,
of hoary grandeur,
a gargantuan pile of steel and granite.
It stood an enigma
on the banks of Hudson,
lulling the waves to sleep
in the garish light of neon bulbs
with an eternal tumult
heating up its nerves

Walking down its streets alien
scenes eerie scurried past-
Men and women-
of all climes and continents
all ethnic denominations,
all shapes, sizes and colours,
Blonds, brunettes,
Blacks and whites,
Tourists and nomads,
in flashing styles
outlandish costumes,
Tonsured, dyed
and tattooed,
on shoulders, back and chest
with bizarre shapes,
Some dressed from top to toe
many bordering on nudity,
splurging with life
feverish and frenzied
speaking different dialects,
some tall, some lean, many obese
trundling down busy streets
that never go still
with sleep and awakening
but action, commotion and agitation,
where each day is an eternity
and each night- a New Year’s Eve
where business runs without pause or cessation
rife with sounds and noises -
the incessant roars of fevered minds
muffled, stifled, excited, agonized
mixing with music flowing from concert halls
merging in sounds of siren
and speeding traffic
A banal hubbub-
A hoarse discordant clamour!

I passed through avenues
where sky scrapers
huddled together on either side
where once stood the Twin Towers
stabbing into the clouds –
those titanic monuments of Yankee pride,
now razed down to Ground Zero
where terrorists wreaked havoc
and wiped thousands unwary -
still frozen in that day light nightmare!

Passing down Wall Street,
the nation’s Money Mart
that spawns an industry
of ruthless dreams and fantasies,
I saw,
the mammoth Bull, charging feral
under whose crushing hooves
many fall dead
and rise again like Phoenix
or soar into indefinable heights
or bury their dreams ever
under the sod.

Broad roads that stretched endless
seemed to lose themselves
like the mazy tangle of complex minds,
and pavements
littered with a thousand moving feet
Men and women in pairs,
hand in hand,
lip to lip,
bodies entwined
seen in beaches and parks
staging an interim drama
in whose brain
Marriage- labelled an anachronism!

In these hurricane of faces
with fleeting passions
or fixations of their own
What chemistry could I discern?
A zest for life- or its absence?
A search for a life lost in living?
A fight for survival
Or
A passive surrender to the inevitable?
I do not know—
I fail to define
I fail to divine.

Submitted: Thursday, November 07, 2013
Edited: Saturday, February 08, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The city is described faceless because in New York, you can see a larger medley of men of all countries and climes than in any other city and perhaps foreigners outnumber the New Yorkers!

Comments about this poem (The Faceless City by Valsa George )

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  • Kanav Justa (12/10/2013 12:47:00 AM)

    , , , you even gave the minutest of the detail, , , , , great representation, , (Report) Reply

  • Roseann Shawiak (11/21/2013 1:49:00 AM)

    Wonderful poem, it's depth scurries through the city, seeing and explaining everything in rapid detail. Loved the descriptions of people, can imagine being there and seeing all this as you're seeing it. Have been to New York also, used to go to the Village every weekend, always something going on there. Want to thank you for your comments on my poem: Nightmarish Dreams. I'm delighted that you enjoyed it. It's nice to know that I'm doing something good. Thank you. RoseAnn (Report) Reply

  • Patricia Grantham (11/18/2013 6:16:00 PM)

    I lived in New York for many years in the borough of Brooklyn. It is the
    city that never sleeps. It is a mixture of many races, religions, cultures,
    and creeds. Even though this is the case it seems that this mixture
    comes together to make a good tasting stew. If you can overcome its
    hectic life and constant source of entertainment you will make it. The
    city that never sleeps but is never tired can't be all bad. Nice write. (Report) Reply

  • Aftab Alam Khursheed (11/14/2013 11:57:00 AM)

    A passive surrender to the inevitable?
    I do not know—
    I fail to define
    I fail to divine.
    Valsa George very nice imagination a complete journey well thank (Report) Reply

  • Susan Lacovara (11/12/2013 9:32:00 PM)

    After just spending last night, on the streets of Manhattan, I can see how you would find the city racing at a maddening pace, with a never ending parade of personalities. At times, seemingly impossible to fully digest, or keep up with...but, do not miss that they is indeed an underlying heartbeat, that pulsates fluidly, and offers the very lifeblood to those who seek a cacophony of culture and creativity. While it can be overwhelmingly abstract, it is also pure in it's warmth, humble and welcoming. Amid the titan towers of marble, stone, steel and glass, you'll discover and uncover the true heart of the city. What an excellent, descriptive tour of the town, you've provided...
    I loved it...and I AM a native New Yorker..PEACE (Report) Reply

  • Diane Hine (11/11/2013 6:33:00 PM)

    I enjoyed my one short visit to Manhattan - walked all day every day, buying fresh blueberries from street vendors and the coffee's cheap!
    Fascinating poem - lots of interesting details. (Report) Reply

  • Danny Draper (11/11/2013 3:03:00 AM)

    I thoroughly enjoyed this narrative of a open minded take it as it comes trip along New York streets. Sydney is also very multicultural and the whole world will soon walk past. What a great hope for a blended humanity you have painted. A fine read and journey with an inconclusive end which could allow the writer another trip to find a conclusion, no matter how elusive or illusionary. (Report) Reply

  • Krishnakumar Chandrasekar Nair (11/10/2013 10:15:00 AM)

    The city of twin ghost towers
    Is yet a city of hope
    Where some find true lovers
    And others live on a thin rope

    In many ways, it resembles our Mumbai and I have been stunned by the sight of crowds spilling out of local trains in CST station. It is almost like looking at the raging frothy sea and you suddenly feel insignificant and with that a feeling of divinity too. Very good work! (Report) Reply

  • Dinesh Nair (11/10/2013 9:14:00 AM)

    I have read Adam Mayblum`s article ' We are on the 87th floor- something is wrong that traces the moments of terror experienced by the author and his colleagues. Madam Valsa, your poem is an appendix to such an essay with enough stuff for much more inner reading. A poem with in depth analytical strength of the kind required! Well written Madam. (Report) Reply

  • Noreen Carden (11/9/2013 5:56:00 AM)

    Wow Valsa this is a wonderful poem great description of the twin towers stabbing into the clouds now frozen in that daylight nightmare well done a definite ten (Report) Reply

  • Kee Thampi (11/8/2013 9:30:00 PM)

    again with a love of this great poet - lullable lines to the soft corners

    lulling the waves to sleep
    in the garish light of neon bulbs
    with an eternal tumult (Report) Reply

  • Tirupathi Chandrupatla (11/8/2013 7:31:00 PM)

    Keen observations of the great city of New York which faced the devastating terrorist attack and rebounded. There are many contrasts yet it moves on resilient. Your poem is a powerful presentation of critical observations of contrasting facets of the city. Living within 100 miles of the city I see it differently every time I visit it. Thank you for a beautiful poem. (Report) Reply

  • Tribhawan Kaul (11/8/2013 9:06:00 AM)

    2020-2027 hrs. A wonderful trip to a faceless city. Such city are everywhere spread in every district, state and country. Last few lines are telling and do bring alive the question whether have such cities are of any worth.living. (Report) Reply

  • Randy Hogan (11/8/2013 12:33:00 AM)

    Beautiful write! I live so far in the country, If I go out back and scream at the top of my lungs, only the bears would hear me.
    ~*~ Randy (Report) Reply

Read all 17 comments »

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