92...New York Minute X: Masked Bandit

Masked bandit by the window
night creature of constant flight.
You looked at me with sad eyes
then scurried off out of sight.

Around the neighborhood I've seen
you often treading lightly.
Your ashy pelt reveals years long
of survival and scrounging.

On a restless night of many times
deep thoughts I surmised in the dark
as moonbeams come down upon them,
like clockwork each twilight embark.

Truly out of sight...out of mind
a New York revelation spewed.
Strutting existence is for all
but survival is for the few.


DionWorx



New York Minutes; Sober Poetic perspectives...
humorous and provocative insights of New York
as experienced by a native from the other side of the divide.

91...New York Minute IX: Braindead

Brain-dead in front of the doors

I run into you all the time
At times you bring your partner,
twice the fun to squeeze by.

Brain-dead on the seven train
if only I can exit kind.
This concept so eludes you
robber barons of my time.

If you steer to the right
chances are you’ll get by.
To the left you’ll do the ch-cha-cha
the dance for New Yorkers-lite.

Knowingly I have given some
a lot to digest at once.
Imagine a city without people
then say to yourself this is not one.


DionWorx

Authors Comments; Obviously in rush hour things are different..this is written for those times that it is not.

New York Minutes; Sober Poetic perspectives...
humorous and provocative insights of New York
as experienced by a native from the other side of the divide.

90...New York Minute VIII: Rhetoric

Don't give me rhetoric
or surmise your allegories.
Don't place my existence
into your categories.

Don't divvy up your prejudices
from centuries old stables
taught not meant to be revealed,
to expediently label.

Erect barriers and divisions,
dissections and invincible fences
to segregate your fears
learned misconceptions.

Arrange words to articulate
oxymoron’s of defective
thinking and vocabulary;
cultured green eyes unimpressive.


DionWorx


New York Minutes; Sober poetic perspectives...
humorous and provocative insights of New York today
as experienced by a native from the other side of the divide.

89...New York Minute VII: Anticipation

Going nowhere fast, getting lost
brow beating down thirty degrees
stumbling over pages of text,
you don't see me crossing the street.

Anticipating someone to blame
excuse yourself in hindsight.
Rules don't apply to you
contempt pays no one mind.

A thing is attached to your hand
you couldn't possibly let loose.
You need to mind peoples business
contribute nonsense to the pool.

Red light to green unnoticed
flashing yellow so soon.
Proceed with caution, stop talking!
You can't see what's in front of you.


DionWorx


New York Minutes; Sober poetic perspectives...
humorous and provocative insights of New York today
as experienced by a native from the other side of the divide.

88...New York Minute VI: Guest Of Honor

The guest of honor every day,
No one dares sits next to he
Who always has a seat,
Plenty of room for his feet.

Everyone takes notice of him
Distinguished gent of little charm,
Articulate ramblings his calling
Adequately dressed for the part.

Sympathetic hearts don't shy away
Empathetic New Yorkers stay.
The real pathetic ones afraid
Move to other cars far away.

A nuisance they must get use to
Them who don't understand pain.
You'll see him again tomorrow
The guest of honor remains.



DionWorx




New York Minutes;
A series of poetic insights and perspectives, viewed through the looking glass of a native New Yorker.

87...New York Minute V:Look at me!

Look at me! See who I am,
Hear what I say, know what I do.
I am crass hear me roar,
On the phone sitting next to you.

Inconsiderate to say the least
Never mind you! I talk this way.
I need to say something,
Not that there's something to say.

Distracted and detached I hold
Big name bags on minimum wage,
Filled with vanity and disdain;
You're not in my class today,

So pardon me for having none,
I am insecure to tears.
Let me take a picture of you
To reminisce on whom I jeered.




DionWorx



New York Minutes;
A series of poetic insights and perspectives, viewed through the looking glass of a native New Yorker.

86...New York Minute IV: Robots Around Me

Who are these robots around me
Disguised in human apparel?
Fine gadgets stuck to their hand,
Deaf ears plugged up as well.

Busy fingers running rampant
With ease of touch you ignore.
You don't have to pay attention
Or even listen anymore.

Lined up in competition
New players arrive each stop.
Breaking records of mindless games
Don't dare interrupt you clod!

Designed by snobs to snub
Personality is a bother.
One percent seems not, but the rest;
Robots imitating each other.


DionWorx


New York Minutes;
A series of poetic insights and perspectives, viewed through the looking glass of a native New Yorker.

85...New York Minute III; Creatures Without Tails

Alarm bells ring! Off and running,
Fashionably late as usual.
New York's rat race begins
Above city sidewalks "beautiful".

As those below scurry about
Unabated to and fro;
Creatures without tails above,
And creatures with tails below.

We look better, we dress better.
They multiply, survive and thrive;
Visit the best restaurants,
Live in the best buildings at times.

We eat better, we dance better.
Perfectly gross in many ways.
We ride taxis and limousines,
But they own and ride the subways.


DionWorx



New York Minutes;
A series of poetic insights and perspectives, viewed through the looking glass of a native New Yorker. 


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84...New York Minute II; The Main Attraction

Night does not fall on a city
That sports sunglasses at night.
It crawls as the centipede
A hundred legs at a time.

The curtain draws, lights go on,
Distractions gain traction;
The greatest show on earth
Welcomes the main attraction.

It's all about you none other,
Moment to seize not ponder.
Won't remind you what matters,
It's not time to be somber.

With things to do, places to be,
Photos and comments to post.
Better boorish than bored,
City lights beckon, time to go.


DionWorx



New York Minutes:

A series of poetic insights and perspectives, viewed through the looking glass of a native New Yorker.  

83...New York Minute I; Staten Island Grey

Ferried to the other side
A retrospective is honed.
Beyond the bay hilltops lost,
A dreary fog finds a home.

Faint towers appear to paint
Billows of clouds and smoke,
An impression of the bridge
Disappearing with the boats.

Harbor side is invisible
As the glisten of the waters,
Silver lining in the clouds,
And her torch over yonder.

Tyranny of grey in array,
Golden charm plainly missing.
Unpredictability,
Is the standard of living.



DionWorx   


New York Minutes;

A series of poetic insights and perspectives, viewed through the looking glass of a native New Yorker.