Wednesday, September 10, 2014

A Poem Years in the Making by a Very Talented Poet Please Share


The Woeful September

 

Here at Ground Zero,

    my soul could hear

    the fear-sired cries

    of the maimed and martyrized.

Here at Ground Zero,

    wrathful phrases—

    alien as battlefields

    before my being became a being—

    exploded off my tongue,

    and this wrathfulness—

    deadlier than a butcher's cleaver—

    lacerated away love with hate. 

Here at Ground Zero,

    I lamented

    the twin metal-constructed mountains.

    I filled urns with tears for each stranger

    who was assassinated

    by Lucifer-conceived hijackers.

Here at Ground Zero,

    the police, firefighters, paramedics

    and construction workers,

    Archangel-Michael-comparable heroes,

    were trying to sever

    tragedy’s girders

    on the buried masses.

Here at Ground Zero,

    I realized,

    despite the bereavement-filled rubble,

    the brave made the vanquish   

    of numerous natives

    and visitors appear victorious.

Here at Ground Zero,

    our rescuers declared

    why zealotry-impelled cells

    could not defeat a need for

    “Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.”

Here at Ground Zero,

     I saw respect remove a woeful wound.

 

by Bob McNeil

Copyright 2014

1 comment:

  1. Dear Mr. McNeil
    What a touching tribute to honor those innocent men, women and children who were massacre by extremist murderers without conscience. You captured in your verses the feelings of anger and hopelessness that all Americans and people all over the world felt on that faithful day as we watch in horror what took place and came to the realization that life as we knew it would never be the same in America for future generations. You came through brilliantly as you capture in your prose the true spirit oof what makes us Americans as people from all walks of life rally together to stand united and show the world what living in a free Democracy is all about for us.
    “Here at Ground Zero, our rescuers declared
    Why zealotry-impelled cells
    Could not defeat a need for
    “Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.”
    At the of your poem you reiterate that no matter what happens, we are united in our determination to be there when we are needed and to honor those who honor deserve.
    “Here at Ground Zero,
    I saw respect remove a woeful wound.”
    Beautifully expressed as only you know how to do it. Congratulations!

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