Fresh Collective Pome: New York Words Bus Ride Home
New York Words Bus Ride Home
Harlem is where children play
In new fallen snow
The horn heaves slow, staccato,
Filling light with butter knives
A thousand dollars doesn’t mean shit.
I feel like a soft street person
A prince and his princesses
Open your heart, open your mind
Let possibilities take you everywhere
Plastic bags can keep your feet dry.
I stepped into a magic
world of complete
emptiness, quiet and
the white of the now
heavily falling snow.
Plastic bags can’t
keep your feet dry. just sweaty
That was some damn good
(big) apple!
Took a bite of the apple
That’s my chapel.
Got caught up in the Big Apple,
In Harlem,
In a Big storm with nothin
But art and adventure on
My mind! Excitement, Energy
Struggle, Journey, and Dance
Never ends New York, New York,
New York!!!
feb 28th
my over politeness makes me as a stranger
to this city. blunt surprise and
unbidden smiles spring to lips at my
“thank yous.”
New York City has become my muse
Every street corner, every face has
inspired me to keep writing.
I like fluffing my pillow. It’s
more comfortable that way.
MY FEET HAVE DRIED, AND I’M SATISFIED
But, I can never be satisfied,
So, I just go along with the
ride.
The streets never end
And corners never bend
In the big city land
Where stories go on and…
In the face of all of this, I return
home. Cross the border into bed
to give my mind its due rest and
begin planning the next time.
(Exquisite Corpse / Collaborative Poem
By the passengers of Transtario Bus #3939,
Participants in Methinks Presents NYC Roadtrip 12,
En route NYC to T.O., February 28, 2010.)
Harlem is where children play
In new fallen snow
The horn heaves slow, staccato,
Filling light with butter knives
A thousand dollars doesn’t mean shit.
I feel like a soft street person
A prince and his princesses
Open your heart, open your mind
Let possibilities take you everywhere
Plastic bags can keep your feet dry.
I stepped into a magic
world of complete
emptiness, quiet and
the white of the now
heavily falling snow.
Plastic bags can’t
keep your feet dry. just sweaty
That was some damn good
(big) apple!
Took a bite of the apple
That’s my chapel.
Got caught up in the Big Apple,
In Harlem,
In a Big storm with nothin
But art and adventure on
My mind! Excitement, Energy
Struggle, Journey, and Dance
Never ends New York, New York,
New York!!!
feb 28th
my over politeness makes me as a stranger
to this city. blunt surprise and
unbidden smiles spring to lips at my
“thank yous.”
New York City has become my muse
Every street corner, every face has
inspired me to keep writing.
I like fluffing my pillow. It’s
more comfortable that way.
MY FEET HAVE DRIED, AND I’M SATISFIED
But, I can never be satisfied,
So, I just go along with the
ride.
The streets never end
And corners never bend
In the big city land
Where stories go on and…
In the face of all of this, I return
home. Cross the border into bed
to give my mind its due rest and
begin planning the next time.
(Exquisite Corpse / Collaborative Poem
By the passengers of Transtario Bus #3939,
Participants in Methinks Presents NYC Roadtrip 12,
En route NYC to T.O., February 28, 2010.)