Sunday, August 02, 2009

Forlorn in West: A Heart Broken by East

Sitting all alone
In New York
in a jazz bar
Way past midnight
With a drink in one hand
and tear filled eyes.
I look out
At dying traffic
And blinking signs.
In the background
Someone tries to sing
For those of us
Foolish enough
to stay behind.
I think she's singing
'Why do you have to be a heart breaker...'
She's ready to go
The make up is wearing out.
I look at her for some time
and think,
'Yeah, she got soul'
Then look at
The snow falling outside.
How many seasons
Since it snowed in New York?
I see it reflecting colours:
Red, blue, yellow and green
I think of the time,
I think of the times
I had thought of being here
But never alone.
I think of the times
I wished to call
Someone my own.
But sitting here
I just watch things go by.
Slowly even the bartender is gone
Someone says it's time to close.
I have to leave.

Down the empty streets
No walking hand in hand
No cabs to catch
No hurrying home
Because no one's waiting.
Snow falling on bare head
But I am oblivious to the cold
There burns a fire inside of me.
The cell phone is off
For who will call
There is no one there
Who would care?
Slowly the wind is catching speed
I pull my coat to my face
I wish someone would hold me close
To keep the cold away.
Suddenly I'm in a hurry
To go back to my empty place.

In the cab
An Asian driver
Chatters away
Absentmindedly, I listen.
The ride into Manhattan
Or out of it
Can sometimes be so painful
For some, because of the memories
For me, the lack of them.
The cabbie talks of back home
I ask him where he belongs
And even though he answers me
It's lost on my ear when
Something outside catches my eye
A man walking all alone
Down the street
Dark hair and brooding eyes
Seems like I've known him
Long time before
He passes by
And then he's gone
Like everyone,
When you pass corners
And lose track of what's behind.
I pay the fare
"Keep the change"
The cabbie waves with surprise.

In the elevator
All alone
The bellboy has left
Long gone.
In the midnight hours
There's no mystery
Just a sorrow that
Envelopes this building,
which I call home
And the silent cries
of tenants long gone
Their souls haunting
The very foundations
of the place they reside.
No one to kiss hurriedly
And then only to be caught,
With a face
Reddened more by love
than embarrassment,
By someone
that lives next door.
No, there is no one.
I'm all alone.

With trembling hands
I open the door
Move outside,
This 5th floor balcony
New York in all its
Man made glory.
No one to share the view
In this apartment I chose
With utmost care
And decorated with all my soul
All the hours spent
Searching, selecting, setting
Painting the ceilings and the walls
Since there's no admirer
In the bedroom
No lover awaits
With open arms
To hold me tight
To never leave out of sight.
With a sick feeling
I watch myself
in the bathroom mirror
Sunken eyes
Half drowned in tears
A heart floats forlorn.

Dressed in a black gown
I sit on the deck chair
And look at the half moon
in the misty sky.
Light a cigarette
and wait for dawn
Too late to sleep
To early to morn.
Think of the times
When there had been
Voices in this world
Now the whole place is covered
In silence and snow.
Far away in the night
Sirens scream
Then all is still.
In the distance
Long Island is just a shadow
Illuminated by lights
And where is Central Park?
Where I jog every morning
All alone
No one for idle chat
And when I come back
There's no one to tease
With the smell of fresh coffee
No talk of breakfast in bed
And no one to fight
Over the morning paper.

Beautiful New York mornings
Beautiful New York nights
Spent all alone.

And then I come back
to the present
Back in my chair
As the first rays of sunlight
Kiss my face
And rouse me from light sleep
And the first
Morning birds come out.
In some downstairs apartment
A canary sings
Perhaps a 'Sonnet to Freedom'
I smile a sorrowful smile
All knowing
Nodding my head in
Understanding and admiration
and think,
I am not alone after all.

(24th September 2001)


Ana Tapadas said...

Adorei o poema/história.

Tuishimi said...

Miss this kind of thing on dA.

Girl Khan said...

Obrigado! Adoro que você aproveite os meus esforços.

Girl Khan said...

I miss dA too but I don't have a camera. Since photography was what brought me there, I always feel poor when I go back because I don't have a camera.

سطحية said...

you've just made my morning more beautiful than it was ^^,
I felt so happy after reading this even though it's sad and lonely =)
Actually I envy the person in the story if she is old and pity her if she is young =/

Girl Khan said...

Thank you Satahaya. I'm glad I made someone's morning. (:
The person is one with a very young face but a very old soul. So she may be pitied and envied at the same time.