Just Say Something
Just Say Something
If you let me off
I’ll let you on.
The next ride (ferry)
is the one
that’s gonna take me home,
the next train
is mine !
Whenever
it comes along.
No rushing to catch
no running to get,
the next ride is mine
lest I forget.
I write it down
on this flimsy piece
of cyber-time.
Or on a piece
of paper
time within
time
worlds with
worlds
standin’ within
spaces
of the different
realities.
Yours...
Mine.
Of what we are
together
and how
when we’re apart.
The skyline dances
within the mirrors
of the clouds,
sailboat’s sails
feathering like darts
the New York harbor.
The whine of
the engines,
Staten Island Ferry.
The sky explodes
my eyes,
clouds feathering,
seagulls following,
Lady Liberty greets me
time after time
after all these years
I still drink to her.
Seagull take me home
to the places I belong,
you have done it
for all these years,
why don’t you do it
some more.
The curuba color
of the setting clouds
outlined in sun,
shaded by others
casts picture like
pictures
indelible in your mind:
the water, the ships,
the rainbow, the wall,
Lady liberty all wet,
the Verrazano Narrows bridge
grasping from shore to shore,
cargo ships awaiting
for the morrow.
Who gets
to see these words?
You do
and nobody does.
Darn piece of paper
got lost,
the copy was
lost in cyberspace,
but not from your mind.
What they mean to you
is not nearly
(what) they do to me.
Just say something.
© Roberto Isaza
June 9, 2005
If you let me off
I’ll let you on.
The next ride (ferry)
is the one
that’s gonna take me home,
the next train
is mine !
Whenever
it comes along.
No rushing to catch
no running to get,
the next ride is mine
lest I forget.
I write it down
on this flimsy piece
of cyber-time.
Or on a piece
of paper
time within
time
worlds with
worlds
standin’ within
spaces
of the different
realities.
Yours...
Mine.
Of what we are
together
and how
when we’re apart.
The skyline dances
within the mirrors
of the clouds,
sailboat’s sails
feathering like darts
the New York harbor.
The whine of
the engines,
Staten Island Ferry.
The sky explodes
my eyes,
clouds feathering,
seagulls following,
Lady Liberty greets me
time after time
after all these years
I still drink to her.
Seagull take me home
to the places I belong,
you have done it
for all these years,
why don’t you do it
some more.
The curuba color
of the setting clouds
outlined in sun,
shaded by others
casts picture like
pictures
indelible in your mind:
the water, the ships,
the rainbow, the wall,
Lady liberty all wet,
the Verrazano Narrows bridge
grasping from shore to shore,
cargo ships awaiting
for the morrow.
Who gets
to see these words?
You do
and nobody does.
Darn piece of paper
got lost,
the copy was
lost in cyberspace,
but not from your mind.
What they mean to you
is not nearly
(what) they do to me.
Just say something.
© Roberto Isaza
June 9, 2005
posted by Rob @ 12:03 AM
2 comments
2 Comments:
"This flimsy piece of cyber-time"--how beautiful and wistful.
Cyber writing and the cyber world are a different animal than any we've known before. They say that everyone's e-mails leave indelible trails, even if deleted by the writer. Dead or sleeping websites, long abandoned, may still exist in the parallel universe of cyberspace like living memorials. Hyperlinks connect us in ways we may not even know of or dare to guess.
Thanks also for sharing your perceptions of the wonder and majesty of New York City. We all have our own version of the city within our minds and memory--even if we've visited NYC only in a movie or on a websie.
Thanks for adding your thoughts to this flimsy piece of cyber-time, for what it's worth, it's stuck here forever...and a couple of minutes more. rob
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