2002
Pop Poetry 101
by William Sovern
on the other hand, I got to read poetry in New York three times / the last dancing with the Nuyoricans / hip hop slammers / three days before / 911
Ode to New York City
by Robert Gibbons
Oh, the pitch still reverberating through the universe such measure of the magnitude of our mourning.
Street of Flags
by Janet Buck
I don't recall another 4th where seas of U.S. flags / bedecked a solid mile of road. The avenue is lined in cloth,
a carpet to the wasted graves of those we dug and dug to find.
2001
War and the Wordless
by Kathryn Gresham-Lancaster
The moon wept giant ponds that plopped over the ruined earth / The moon sucked the trees into her craters / Licked the streets clean of hardened skin
The Fritz Chapel
by Brian Peters
There is a characteristic of that Great Faith I'm so miserably unable to define, which I think applies here. Universally when I have seen it, persons of Great Faith lead what might be called examined lives.
Speak and Doublespeak
by Jennie Orvino
Some words are allowed
to run rampant, others go to jail
without charge or bail.
Bankrupt language, how can I
make it solvent? Unlike
our enemies, we value
human life, says our President
as the mosque explodes in Kandahar.
An Echo of the Silence of the Dead
by Robert Gibbons
We took our sadness for the world to the orchard.
Nothing but green. Slowly the red, the black bark, ashes
of our sadness began to lift.
Poetry
by Scott Poole
If you fall while walking, you can expect one person, if any, usually someone who loves you, to help you
up off your bleeding knees.
Better Angels
by Susannah Indigo
Better angels have magical names like Maya or Arianna or Esmeralda, and
they live in crystal houses
Day 7
by Claire Cowan-Barbetti
Still, they glittered in that green water: mosaic of temples, markets, meeting halls /
The beckoning lights of the beautiful city.
Nervous Doorknobs
by Janet Buck
I was in the ladies bathroom dwelling on / the sheets we use to guard our ivory bottoms /
in the john, yet there's nothing for our souls
September 12 -- letter from New York City
from Liz Gilbert
It is late now, almost dawn, and I should go to sleep. I don't know what
more I can do tonight except what I have done all day -- continue to
believe in God, continue to believe in New York City and to steadfastly
refuse to hate.
Scattered Thoughts in a Scattered Time
by David Steinberg
We don't do well with fear. It's another thing that, as Americans, we're not
used to. One cyanide pill in a bottle of Tylenol, and we're all ready to
struggle with safety-seal jars for the rest of our lives.
God Angrily Clarifies Don't Kill Rule
from the Onion
I guess I figured I'd left no real room for confusion after putting it in a four-word sentence with one-syllable words, on the tablets I gave to Moses. How much more clear can I get?
(More voices will be added to September 11 over time)
