QuietStorm Vol. 1

September 12 (poem by Shavon Meyers)

911-wSeptember 12

Wounds still soar from salt poured on raw skin

Birds splash in blood stained puddles

The city that never sleeps was caught napping with

Eyes wide open

As cries lingered on the day after

We navigated through cloudy streets

As neighborhood delis passed out yesterday’s treats

Hoping to lift our defeated spirits and erase

Yesterday’s fears

We were not niggers or spicks or crackers or chinks,

Gay or straight, rich or poor

We were one under a weeping sky

The trains stopped, buses re-routed

But we marched on

Emotions paralyzed by fear

We kept moving through silent memorials

from those who watched it unfold in their nation’s

backyard via CNN’s up to date coverage of

“America Under Attack”

Brought to you by Chevrolet… “Like a Rock”

Empty faces gazed at the sky above

Twin silhouettes stood tall as if they were oblivious

To the obvious

Down below the search continued

Dogs desperate to please their owners with human remains

Authorities having seen it all are left astounded

While our nation’s leader casually turned the page

Tear stained faces never stopped digging

Never stopped searching, praying…questioning

Battered and bruised

Soar arms attached missing posters to every soot covered surface

The smell of death lingered

While resting bones took shoots of defeat

chased by pain as the days went on

And when a new building stands tall

And the crowd applauds at the ribbon cutting ceremony

A new generation will be waiting, ready and willing

To sweep the remaining dust from crushed bones

Under the dreadful rug of the past

They will carry on

But for those who saw it unfold, crumble and rise again

Those who ride past the Courtland St. station in silence

Those who lived through the day and went on to tomorrow

Can never fully move on.

From QuietStorm Vol. 1.