1.
The city challenges visitors, creates
skirmishes for all that work and live here.
Never enough parking, time, savings, legislation
money, too many murders, homeless --
no one can ever see it all in a single tour of duty.
Power pays no attention to particulars,
expects to be catered to, lives free
off all who suckle up to it. Bronzed heroes,
african-american veterans, marbled statesmen,
dashing warriors on horseback, farms became
planned neighborhoods, recovering from riots,
business, nightlife, a city within a beltway,
surrounding a government for the nation.
The fodder of greatness composts
across the river at the home of the greatest
rebel, most loyal officer. (All great citizens
true believers are inches from rebellion,
verge on heresy.) War after war
end up as white crosses in Arlington,
dogwood blossoms, garland thank yous,
lovers lost, liberty consecrated.
Tumble down these hills...
the Potomac is safe for swimming again.
National Airport’s last runway of choice,
Lincoln ever watchful, unlashed by storm,
more at peace, wiser than in life, sits
above the steps where voices still sing
the songs of rebellious freedom.
2.
Alphabet zoo, grid locked, east to west
by number, north to south by letter
defended by circles and radiant states.
School boys paths and farmers trail, now
paved and woven amongst the fashionable
dreams of Embassies and town houses, everything
planed to make sense obfuscated by the next
administrations efforts to clean up the mess.
White house painted to cover up the soot from the war
that was over before it started, Pennsylvania
Avenue closed to traffic because of a threat
papered over as more pedestrian and tourist friendly.
Green sward of the Mall churned each year to mud
for fireworks or a million other events.
Come ye from hither and yon, ‘cross nation
from sea to shining sea, for principal, for policy,
sports, for what ever reasons may abide in the heart
soul, sense of pride, the national glory, puffed out chest,
feelings of shame, stop the war, a parade, a protest
every act of conscience ringing in more than one human.
Stand in silence, wave a sign -- man, woman, child
walk these streets for tearful mile, in awe, in wonder,
in anger or glee -- hands over hearts they come to D.C.
Here is the center of the nation for which they bleed.
9:33 AM
October 30th, 2009
Dulles International Airport
Author notes
I am a military brat. I hitch-hiked all over America. My voice is singing about the capital. But this is the truest sound of my voice.
A contest entry
- Your Voice by silverscent.
700 points, ended November 15, 20 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think, what it makes you feel, how you are moved.
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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Wow, can't say I've ever been to this place physically, but you certainly do take me there with your immensely powerful words. This is an incredible piece of work, thanks for sharing and for your extremely kind comments on mine, they are most appreciated. Keep writing from your heart, your soul and your mind, but you do that anyway! Thanks for sharing.
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This is only a small sliver of WDC. I was primarily focused on the Mall area and the Arlington Cementary across the river. There is so much more and I want to work on writing a poem about this city again. Catch a little about Anacostia and the way the city is divided into quadrants. There is just so much in any place to wax poetic about
Love,
Tom B.
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Powerful
This is a strong and meaningful poem. It's like a pool, you start out on the stairs, very shallow and as you go farther and farther in, you get deeper and deeper and feel more and more. You started out with "Never enough parking, time, savings" and then went into "voices still sing the songs of rebellious freedom." and then ended with "Here is the center of the nation for which they bleed" the gentle incline of affect on my emotions was powerful and touching. I love DC, been there twice but wish i could live on the outskirts to be part of this wonderful "magic" that I always seem to feel there. It's not like the usual busy town, it's calm... This poem just is moving. Bravo and Thank You for sharing this with us. (I'd applaud, but it won't let me) -
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Washington DC from history, to center of power, to people just trying to survive, all of it is a true reflection of what you find in the USA, good, bad or indifferent. This isn't the last poem about DC. There is so much more to be said.
Peace,
Tom B.
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Amazing
That's amazing. I used to live in D.C, made me very happy to read your poem!
Monday -
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Thank You Much
Never meant to end up here. But, now I am glad I did.
Peace,
Tom B.
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True, true.
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Thanks
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Good Poem
It makes me feel as if I have missed a lot by not seeing these things. DC is as fameliar to some as the mountins are to me and in their own way just as important. Every four to eight years DC starts over. We never have hit a station we can go on with, it is always break it down and rebild it over again. will we ever establish a solid government.
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I am grateful
there is so much here that I didn't speak to. I have lived and traveled all over the USA and DC contains it all. Seriously. I often am in awe.
Peace,
Tom B.
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This left me fascinated...Much love and respect to the people of Washington D.C.
Hazel
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Thank You Much
I have lived here and wanted to try to give a reflection of the city, its pulse, beat energy. Glad you enjoyed.
Tom B. -
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It somewhat reminded of Glasgow a bit...But I enjoyed this write.
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awesome
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Thanks
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This is something!
Every line has clearly been well thought about and cleverly portrayed and that's what impressed me mostly about this piece.
Thanks for entering
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Thank you I am honored
Appreciate the HM. It was a challenge to write a poem about a city. This is where I have lived for the longest amount of time. I have learned to love the area.The hardest job was keeping it down to a decent size. I could of easily written four more chapters
Love,
Tom B.
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I loved every phrase!! your love for this country
shows the pride in this penning!! loved it
and the theme
love and blessings
Rend
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I am cynical, bitter, overly romantic and the list goes on. But, yes, I love my country even as I weep over its sin, shame and lack of contrition. Just as I worry about my child, I never stop demanding the best from this Nation. DC is everything, good and bad we got here.
thanks for stopping by.
Love,
Tom B.
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bravo..nicely penned my friend....i love the way you sculpt your work with such skill....this is great
T
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This is one of those eat at you pieces. I know there will be another one or a revised version of this one or something. I have had dreams about lines of this poem. There is one whole section written that I changed my mind about and left edited out. But... this thing has haunted me for about a week, now. Maybe, since I have put it out in the public eye it will leave me alone for awhile.
Love,
Tom B.
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