The Faceless City Poem by 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.
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.
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
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
It sounds like a melting pot for all humanity. A good poem Valsa.
This is a beautiful poem on faceless city having touching expression and nice collocation. The following lines are much impressive. 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?
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. A real thoughtful poem.
, , , you even gave the minutest of the detail, , , , , great representation, ,
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
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.
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 10:10:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
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.