Cityscape

N.Y. at Night, Vivienne Gucwa

Another story rewritten

under smooth, new skin—

rough worn paths

and broken dreams

  well-hidden within.

Almost invisible in the night

 all forgiven under pale light

  of streetlamp or moon…

Concealed in the shadows

the glory, the beauty

once held as her own,

as time stakes its claim;
 her innocence lost

  much too soon.

© Ginny Brannan 2013

Written for The Mag #201. Image provided by Tess Kincaid, she provides the image, we the story!

Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night #127

After all what is NYC but a woman always preening, upgrading, reinventing. I love how the beauty of her early years still peeks through in her architecture and old cobblestone streets!

City Sub-Texts

Feel the Beat

To know the pulse that beats

beneath the streets, the trains

that flow through blackened veins—

one must discover the world

awaiting through the gates,

past the turnstiles, down the stairs.

Mingle the crowds…breath the air …

pungent, offensive; assails the senses—

residuum of 5 million that

swarm this maze every day.

The dirt, the grit, the true city awaits--

          just below the surface

©  Ginny Brannan April 2012

Under the Hustle and Bustle 

Stepping out of the bright sun

to enter the subterranean

world under The Garden,

Get a ticket, find the gate;

maneuver the maze of halls

and stairs down to the platform.

Train stops: bodies off, bodies on,

Commuters, a strange breed,

heads down, read a book, read

a newspaper; whatever happens,

don’t make eye contact.

Train starts, slowly speeds up,

rocking and swaying on the tracks

New York City, Center of the Universe.

From here head north to the Bronx

riding the el past the war zone of

boarded-up, graffiti-laced buildings.

Or east to Brooklyn, Queens, the Rockaways.

Or maybe south, through Little Italy,

Chinatown, to Battery Park --

emotions still grip in the

shadow of buildings long gone.

To ride the subway is to experience

the world incognito, to become one in

a nameless, faceless crowd…

where people-watching is the norm

(as long as you don’t make eye contact)

© Ginny Brannan April 2012


*Images Wikipedia Penn Station
Written for and sharing at d'Verse Poets Poetics: Subway 4/15/12

Bright Lights, Big City

Written and recalled for Magpie Tales:

Uptown, Midtown, Downtown, Chinatown...

Twenty-two years old, exploring alien world of concrete and skyscrapers, eyes drawn upward, jaw agape and dragging on the sidewalk.  I smell the exhaust of a thousand taxis, the acrid odor of burnt pretzels from the corner vendor, the sour steam rising through sidewalk grates from unseen subterranean passages. Getting the grand tour today from city-savvy friends--Penn Station, Broadway, top of the World, dinner in Chinatown. We take the subway to Canal Street, north lies Little Italy: south, we step into another country—bright little shops with neon signs boasting their wares in strokes and symbols. As we pass by one I pause and stare, amazed to see whole birds, plucked, smoked and ready for purchase, not neatly cut and packaged like in the supermarkets I am used to.

February 1978, New York City --"Toto, we're not in Vermont anymore!"

©  Ginny Brannan October 2011

 Photo courtesy Tess Kincaid for Magpie Tales            

Shared at Magpie Tales: http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

This photo reminded me of my first trip into NYC with some of my friends. I was assaulted with sights, sounds and smells the likes of which I had never witnessed before. To this day I remember the total amazement of it all!