128...New York Minute XVI: A Sign

A sign reappears in the sky
no occasion to be worried.
Your sign is at forty second
commissioned for the cursory.

With the likelihood you'll miss
a season that brings change.
A scandal will lead front page,
baseball and the latest craze.

An omen will visit soon
with new horizons forecast.
Whether you believe it or not
will not change matter of fact.

You'll trivialize and label.
Post, text, tweet and gossip.
Three more times it will visit
yet the riddle will persist.



DionWorx

117...New York Minute XV: Afternoon In The Harbor

Afternoon in the harbor.
Helicopters above roaming.
Back and forth coming and going,
one leaving another arriving.

Gunboat escorting, sporting
a yard of steel imposing.
Ski mask covering identity.
At the helm no one posing.

New York Waterway streaks by
gallivanting the waters.
Only the ferry merits
measures of caution to ponder.

On the west is all the action.
On the east the gawking is most.
Two seagulls hastily dash by
and I wonder what they might know.


DionWorx

113...Sandy and Laura

Uninvited guest she was who came
Obtrusive intruder into his home,
To sweep him and the rest off their feet,
Make a name for herself well known.

She grew unkind and intolerable,
No stranger to the neighborhood,
Old Captain Jack seen her kind before
Cloaked in ominous tides of doom.

Overbearing grey complexion
Steeped in hazardous shades of bleak,
A surge of fear loomed out of the sea
Breaching barriers of protected peace.

Flooding her mark with confusion,
Emergency calling card disclosed,
With roars of chaos in her tone
Signature creeping waters rolled.

Up to his knees in pessimism
Soaked in groans of anxiety;
Indeed she was in no mood to leave
Before imposing her calamity.

A clamor carried by the wind
Journeyed to unsettle a conscience,
Tuned-in to the frequency
Of a distress call sent by providence.

Rushing to meet instincts head on
With a singular purpose and drive,
Old Captain Jack from down the road,
A recluse by the shore came to mind.

Laura perceiving Sandy's ill will
And Jack's plight evoking distraught;
A land-line became the lifeline,
Love for your fellow man the cause.

A lone phone stood to be answered
Through murky waters above the knees;
Disoriented by the darkness
Picked up to hear an angel speak.

“Don't worry I’ll be there soon"
I am your neighbor he was told.
In a nick of time to rescue
What Sandy came to take and boast.

On that day two unexpected visitors
Descended upon his sensibilities;
One pushed him inch by inch to sleep,
The other pulled him out of the deep.

It seems those old bones still matter
Of the highest value to love offered.
An angel made that perfectly clear
When love saved the day to remember.



DionWorx


Authors comments; Dedicated to Laura and John who’s unselfish acts of love and human compassion became Angels in their own right and found their way, especially into the hearts they have touched. These humble words are my tribute to them and the true story that unfolded when the cyclone named Sandy came October 29, 2012

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110...New York Minute XIV: Hypothesis

Taking in the sights by day

not of the kind promoted.

Insights from acute angles

prompts curious attention.

Concrete grass and steel trees,

gray is the color of a city.

A sea of cars embody

waves of noise driving plenty.

Horizons can only be perceived

through slivers and rooftop peeks.

Hera over the harbor

standing as Lady Liberty

brilliantly displayed magnet

deviating compasses.

Beyond steep stories of glass

reflections of a hypothesis.

DionWorx

96...New York Minute XIII: Deja Vu

Subway ads portray across
models with contrived joy and smiles.
Just below these sitting polite
a countenance worthwhile.

A human in drenched jacket
buttoned up with safety pins.
Heavily stained with despair
blue eyed man with asphalt skin

peeking out to the skyline
for any remnant of a dream.
Reluctant to be noticed
his faint smile imposed on me.

A single tear rolled down my cheek
for one who had none to shed.
A "déjà vu" profound and surreal
in his eyes I saw myself instead.



DionWorx

95...New York Minute XII: Old Man Winter

All is still for old man winter
master of the day unconstrained.
Uninvited guest from up north,
always a surprise when he arrives.

He's not cranky as usual
as he demonstrates in kind.
The wind blows in soft whispers
as the moon smiles in the sky.

Undisturbed snow with no footprints
a peaceful night settles white.
The sound of bliss is quiet
with hints of sparkle from twilight.

Only the sound of a kiss is heard
that fell upon my cheek in my sleep
as she leaned over and whispered
"I love you...good night my sweet."


DionWorx

94...New York Minute XI: Stains Of Poverty

Stains of poverty lay strewn
on city sidewalk littered
in mosaic patterns of thoughts,
resentment and hopelessness.

Blowing mindlessly in the wind
riding on a gust of disgust
weaving a collective disappointment
tarnished promises full of rust.

A million and one frames passed
before my eyes to process
as a second in time to wonder;
Can there be art in this?

If only what I've written.
What is broken is not fixed easily.
The state of being poor only means
lack of money...not dignity.


DionWorx

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.