In Memory

from here no lines are drawn from here no lands are owned 13,000 and holding swallowed in the purring of her engines tracking the beacon here “is there a signal there on the other side”…
on the other side? what do you mean side of what things? and you said and you did and you said you could find me here and you said you would find me even in death and you said and you said you’d find me but i can’t see new york as i’m, circling down through white cloud falling out…
and i know his lips are warm but i can’t seem to find my way out my way out i can’t see. of this hunting ground from here crystal meth in metres of millions in the end all we have, soul blueprint. did we get lost in it do we conduct a search for this “from the other side” from the other side? what do they mean side of what things… and you said. you again it’s you again i can’t see i can’t see new york from the other side from the other side i hum from the other side…..
I’m usually not one for cliche poem things.. but I found this while surfing this morning.. I found it touching..
Two thousand one, nine eleven
Five thousand plus arrive in heaven
As they pass through the gate
Thousands more appear in wait
A bearded man with stovepipe hat
Steps forward saying,
“Lets sit, lets chat”
They settle down in seats of clouds
A man named Martin shouts out proud
“I have a dream!”
And once he did
The Newcomer said, “Your dream still lives.”
Groups of soldiers in blue and gray
Others in khaki say
“We’re from Bull Run, Yorktown, and the Maine”
The Newcomer said, “You died not in vain.”
From a man on sticks one could hear
“The only thing we have to fear…”
The Newcomer said, “We know the rest,
Trust us Sir, we’ve passed that test.”
“Courage doesn’t hide in caves
You can’t bury freedom in a grave.”
The Newcomers had heard this voice before
A distinct Yankees twang from Hyannisport shores
A silence fell within the mist
Somehow the Newcomer knew that this
Meant time had come for her to say
What was in the hearts of five thousand plus that day
“Back on Earth, we wrote reports
Watched our children play sports
Worked our gardens, sang our songs
Went to church and clipped coupons
We smiled, we laughed, we cried, we fought
Unlike you, great we’re not.”
The tall man in stovepipe hat
Stood and said, “Don’t talk like that!
Look at your country, look and see
You died for freedom, just like me.”
Then, before them all appeared a scene
Of rubbled streets and twisted beams
Death, destruction, smoke and dust
People working just ’cause they must
Hauling ash, lifting stones
Knee deep in hell
But not alone
“Look! Black, white, brown and yellow
Side by side helpin their fellow man!”
So said Martin, as he watched the scene
“Even from a nightmare, can be born a dream.”
Down below three firemen raised
The colors high into ashen haze
The soldiers above had seen it before
On Iwo Jima back in ‘44
The man on sticks studied everything closely
Then shared his perceptions on what he saw mostly
“I see pain, I see tears,
I see sorrow - but I don’t see fear.”
“You left behind husbands and wives
Daughters and sons… so many lives
Are suffering now because of this wrong
But look very closely. You’re not really gone.
All of those people, even those who’ve never met you
All their lives, they’ll never forget you
Don’t you see what has happened?
Don’t you see what you’ve done?
You’ve brought them together, together as one.”
With that the man in the stovepipe hat said,
“Take my hand,” and from there he led
Five thousand plus heroes, Newcomers to heaven
On this day, two thousand one, nine eleven…


September 11th, 2003 at 2:22 pm
that was beutiful
September 11th, 2003 at 5:06 pm
Very nice hun..