Love Poems About New York or New York Love Poems

New York love poems and/or love poems about New York. Read, share, and enjoy these New York love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Carolyn Devonshire |
Categories: dedication, lost lovelife, love, new york, time,

Tribute to Daniel

“In this life there’s been heartache and pain”
How could I begin to find love again
Desperado walking a tightrope
I looked down and Daniel gave me hope
“The first time ever I saw your face”
Cold heart melted, longed for your embrace
Your compassion and character shone
No longer could I live all alone
“You took my love and you took it down”
Felt lighter than air with feet on the ground
A love without chains, a soul unbound
But walls closed in as I watched you drown

"In a New York minute everything can change"
Sometimes life takes twists that seem strange
A human chain was formed to find my man
Reaching up was Daniel's lifeless hand
Efforts to save, resuscitate
Proved futile to fight the hands of fate
Casket sent home, called his folks to explain
“Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane”

*Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is” 
*Roberta Flack’s “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” 
*Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide”
*Don Henley's "In a New York Minute" 
*Elton John’s “Daniel”

By Carolyn Devonshire for Tracie's "Sing a Song for Me" contest.
Dedicated to my fiancé Daniel Sammons who drowned while we were swimming in a 
lake near Tallahassee, FL.

Poem Details | by Matthew Anish |
Categories: love, urban,

Night in New York

This city demands to be explored
   It aches with the yearning of a living metropolis
The broad masses of the people 
   take sustenance from it 
    One cannot help but believe that 
the city is a living organism 
Does time tell everything? 
   Time is a manic relative of this city 
   If you know this you can survive in this urban homeland 
You can thrive when 
    you know that 
the swift pace of life here 
   keeps you on your toes 
   You can survive 
when you realize 
that the millions pounding the pavement 
are searching for the peace you seek 
The bright lights which shine in the shadows 
are reflected in a million eyes 
Every time you see a smile in this city 
      Treasure it 
for the hectic pace of this asphalt homeland 
allows for only brief moments of love

Poem Details | by Jimmy Anderson |
Categories: cute love, feelings, imagery, love, new york, nostalgia,

Valintines- Our Year In Love

It was 2014,
how could I forget?
Most gorgeous woman i'd ever seen,
and yes, you were smoking my brand of cigarette!

Outside Starbucks sipping coffee,
in the most beautiful red dress.
I noticed how you looked at me,
yet, I thought I looked a mess!

You would later say;
"Baby, I loved that scruffy look."
No, I could never forget that day,
for the magic in your eyes was all it took!

Small chit-chat about this and that,
as we sipped coffee eating pastry.
As we got up, I grabbed my hat,
and thought, 'we are like universal poetry'!

I wondered, how could a woman of such beauty,
could be spending time on Valentines alone.
Such a breath of fresh air was your company,
and I had this flutter beneath my breast bone!

Hand in hand through Central Park,
February had a chilly wind.
We both smiled, feeling loves spark,
and released heart never break- just bend!

We walked and spoke for hours on end,
just as 'hopeless romantics' spoke of;
I held you close from the wintry wind,
and I knew it was going to be Our Year In Love!

2/10/2016 wrote for Contest Year In Love

Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: absence, angel, betrayal, business, car, career, celebrity, change, childhood, dance, death, death of a friend, dedication, devotion, england, farewell, fear, first love, for him, freedom, friendship, funeral, goodbye, grief, heartbroken, history, identity, international, london, miss you, money, murder, muse, music, mystery, new york, peace, political, power, remember, rights, spiritual, tribute, truth, visionary, wisdom,

he is leaving home

                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        ThenAbbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one It wanted silence

                    Going back.remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      Nothis was not my hero in music and song

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of.coming together
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                        Too many years gone bylet us tell the TruthLet us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~

           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "


Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: absence, america, art, books, business, celebration, celebrity, christmas, city, culture, dedication, depression, family, farewell, farm, feelings, film, freedom, goodbye, growing up, history, home, house, i love you, image, life, lost, money, music, native american, new york, paradise, patriotic, people, places, political, pride, today, tribute, truth, usa, world,

young American days

                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 



Poem Details | by Agatha Jetaime |
Categories: adventure, fantasy, love, lust, new york,

New York

Each single morning on my way to work
I fantasize what happens in New York
If I were to spend a long weekend there.
I'd ask you out of the blue, not despair.

Once passionate lovers, can we be friends?
No regrets, hesitations or amends.
Where do we meet? The hotel? The lobby?
I spot youElegant, somewhat snobby.

How do I greet you and what do I say?
Hi dear..soul mateMissed you dearly? In may
Decided to fly out to NY and meet.
By then I will figure out how to greet 

You and not feel awkwardOh how dorky.
You'll play alongYou're a little quirky
Just enough to find you so exotic.
You grew mustache with tint of quixotic 

Cervantes look and easy Spanish feel
Hey Danny! What is the bloody big deal?
Are we just friendsAre we also lovers?
Let's go upstairs and dive deep in covers!

I was in love but I cannot resist
Your sweat, smileI really do insist!
It's just beyond meYour hair, torso, mist,
Your shoulders, fingers, buttocks, it's your gist.

What a miserable challenge we faced!
Day after day we tango, I'm amazed.
Manhattan, landmark of Times Square, Broadway.
Home I learn I am two weeks lateHurray! 

The first day we most certainly behave.
We drink a lot of coffee and I rave
About you, NY, delight of sightseeing.
I feel as if it was all worth being

So depressed, heavily stressed months ago.
With you I feel like Marilyn Monroe,
Have never ever felt like this, I swear.
Sweet-talk me and make love to me, I dare!

You take and hold my skinny shaking hand.
Do as I will say, it is my demand!
Your sharp mind, pretty body I possess.
Our New York trip turns out a huge success!

List of emailed fantasies we fulfill,
I tremble and shake as if on treadmill.
Simplest of ever changing life's pleasures,
Not in green US dollars does it measure.

At night it's time to head out to ballet:
We enjoy, chit-chat, sip on Chardonnay.
We walk back, temperature is awesome.
You make me peak ten times so I blossom.

I stare at you as you glow and beckon.
How late is it, so what do you reckon?
Hear you, feel you, scan you, have ambition.
Tasted loving with no inhibition.

I dream of youYou are hereTake me rough!
You read my mind, our eyes meet and you cough,
Signaling end of dining and way out
Retrieving the directions of the route

That would take us back to our simple room,
Oftentimes New York just resembles "Doom"!
A yellow cab pulls over to the curb.
There's a sign on our door"Do not disturb"...

Poem Details | by Davin Payne |
Categories: analogy, beautiful, best friend, boyfriend, care, confusion, culture, devotion, dream, emotions, feelings, for her, friendship, girlfriend, grief, growth, happiness, heart, heartbroken, how i feel, i love you, joy, longing, loss, lost love, love, metaphor, miss you, missing, missing you, moon, moving on, new york, nostalgia, relationship, romance, romantic, sad, sad love, song, star, stars, storm, thank you, time, uplifting, woman,

the love we had seemed so far away

i look to stars and wishes flew through space never to be heard again
fun to friends hearts do meld and break facing until time ends
this loop that plays and beats that syncopate become but a gem
pleasure a chest opened in surprise feeling no need to defend
galaxies away lonely planets  please keep me in mind
 distance could grow something fond or lost between the lines
gps my love you can see  its still where I  left it behind
thoughts fade away with life love lives forever in my rhyme

Im sorry, I wanted more,with  all this space between
disconnected and I still look to that day
we talked on the phone, our separate homes
the love we had seemed so far away

without air i couldnt breathe squeezed until I'm passing by
no water flow my skin would dry and I return to the sky
sunny days would blacken out, attracting need for desperate lies
to make up for the beauty lost from death slowly closing my eyes
that fire once sparking motion snuffed in huffs slipping away
drifting I sway shaky grounds where once I sat easily and stay
upon my feet I still float drowning out all thoughts that stray
Tho these ends can come swift its worse to miss and hear you say

Im sorry, I wanted more,with  all this space between
disconnected and I still look to that day
we talked on the phone, our separate homes
the love we had seemed so far away

down the road,flying free, I ride the wave and hope for your return
through several seas and cloudy peaks, storms of sand, I will not turn
helpless to fate and future events, nothing prevents something to learn
  sights may not sore, nothing much looking more, isn't my concern
I hope the best and happyness is true to bless you, not just in dreams
we can meet when we sleep discussing life while sleeping seems
thanks for trying Im not exactly dying, banes of  sentient beings
real enough moving on is rough, i'll love you forever, writting my means

Poem Details | by A.O. Taner |
Categories: beautiful, blessing, celebration, cheer up, cool, courage, crush, cute love, drink, emotions, feelings, first love, for her, forgiveness, freedom, fun, happy, heartbreak, i love you, i miss you, longing, lost love, love, love hurts, metaphor, new york, people, relationship, romance, romantic, sensual, social, soulmate, symbolism, true love, wisdom, word play,

To us

One shot of envy
Two shots of love
Few drops of luck
Just a hint of fear.

Pour over cubes of the past
Shake well, shake well
Top with hope
Garnish with joy.

Poem Details | by Matthew Abuelo |
Categories: addiction, blue, mental illness, new york, political, society,

Last Love Letter

Oh to vacation behind the heavy metal door
To escape another election year.
All news is stopped at the door by the guards
Whoever sit in the same place
Waiting to retrieve all banned goods
And outside time
Between med time and bed time is empty time
Where those evicted from their bodies
Are stuck staring at their feet.
But all have the midnight carousal 
Under their tongues
“If that bitch doesn’t give me my meds
I’m going to kick that door down.
Either that door will break or my leg will.”
The one mercy in the sexless hotel
Memories fall way, sooner or later
Memories of what building was torn down.
What now empty store front housed
The latest failure
Now lays in the darkened reminder of memory
And constant reminder of becoming 
what is left behind in the 
this is the city o
Of the buried 
and forgotten.
In their place every mind
Is fixed
With a retread with no memories at all
And setoff to the outside and the vacation ends.
But retreads always fall off and litter the roads
Before they re-enter to antiseptic air
Only letters are allowed past the guards
I can’t remember the last time a received 
A letter.
Its all emails
And telephone calls these days.
Perhaps this is how I lost my sense
Of anticipation.
When was the last time 
I sent a letter?
we all can sleep the sleep of the forgotten
Some of us have gotten our fill of the stars 
and prefer a ceiling to an indifferent sky
and the empty heavens.
All others from these ranks who never returned
have wandered beyond 
the light of day
into the trainless subway tunnels 
and into the fold 
of the disconnected brotherhood/sisterhood
of the mole people

The mole people
This is the real lost tribe of America
living beyond the reach of landlords 
and their thugs for hire.

For each there is no need to peer into the shadows
of yet another condo.
Their hidden jungle
is not of the Amazon
but the Subway system
where no natural light ever penetrates
The soul is the first
and cheapest thing
to leave behind.
 I’ve heard the tribe will let you in
as long as you mind
Your own business.
There are no eviction notices at these depths
Their moon comes 
with the thunder overhead 
from passing cars.

Those who wish to be forgotten,
stay forgotten 
and are certain to replace
the hopes for a headstone with that of a serial number
marked for a pauper’s grave
This is the wish of the shut in
to die nameless in their SROs
or over priced
one bed room pad
in Washington Heights.
(Hiding from who?)
Hiding from those they wish to forget.
A psychotic lover
whose love is serrated
and cuts too deep 
till it reaches bone
Their own home town
which they attempted to cut the tether to
in a desperate escape.
Or death.
Death is what comes too cheap for most
and too soon for some
or too late for all others.
But if you dance forever you will never die.

The Clocks

Here clocks talk to each other
Of all the collected hours
by those who live by the clock
or all who can exist in confined rooms
as a natural environment 
with a waiting bathroom down the hall
and one foot on the third rail
The shut in turns a blind eye to the amateurs 
who fear being forgotten
several stories down.


After all the deals are made
and all the SROs torn down
and those of us who grow tired of waiting for the eviction
notice to be handed down by a judge on the take
 have moved on
 or held our ground
and after all New York 
becomes “open for business”
every street becomes just another bizarre, 
and when those who have been out to sea for far too long 
and wish to return home
are met by closed port cities
with indifferent silence
(Even the circus of your life has moved on
long ago.
Do you care?
The noise of the carousals have become muted)

you can peer closely through the crowds
to see the better ghosts
among us
the last of the American Tribe
forever flailing in the
last light of late evening

Poem Details | by Creative Chaos |
Categories: city, culture, cute love, home, immigration, new york, urban,

Rush Hour 24-7

A stranger bumped into me 
He never said sorry, neither did I 
It's New York rush hour

Poem Details | by Blake Holland |
Categories: beautiful, body, cheer up, cute love, december, desire, destiny, first love, girlfriend, love, lust, mountains, nature, new york, paradise, passion, peace, rain, romantic, true love, wine,


I see you every day
near the Hudson Bay.
Your body is like wine
but, your mine.
I know other men tried to win you over-
they all failed-
because you are meant for me.
Your name is like a lost French folk song,
or New York City in the rain
I seek no sorrow and feel no pain 
when I hear your name, Jayne.
Our love will never go wrong-
you look like the sun rising over the mountains of Montana,
or the misty moonlight over the Black Sea
because you are the only one for me.
Some call you glory in your grace of glory
but, that's another story.
even then, 
I will love you
your my psychedelic lover-
will you love me too?

Poem Details | by Barbara Zinnamon |
Categories: devotion, nature, people, love, new york,






Poem Details | by Davin Payne |
Categories: dedication, desire, devotion, emotions, for her, heart, how i feel, i love you, introspection, longing, love, missing you, new york, passion, relationship, romance, romantic, sad love, trust,

manifest destiny my only cure

i dont mean to be pathetic
wishing  my phone would sound
the little things the biggest
my ear lay to the ground
waiting for that signal
reception just a symbol
i tried to keep it simple
heart crashing like a cymbal
every thing i see  kindly a reminder
where I want to be out of place
stealing the covers id like to find her
lately my bed is having too much empy space
i guess never say never 
sometimes i know better
since I ever met her
my heart wouldnt forget her
quest for my questionin to be quenched
matters of this nature puts people in a pinch
my best for blessings stuck by a wrench
disaster while riding despite tightening a cinch
i made my bed now rest assured
manifest destiny my only cure
my arms not as long like I preferred
let it go, watch, help it grow, I concur

Poem Details | by richard ferry |
Categories: devotion, me, world, tree, love, me, new york, tree,

Always you with me

Before the world began     Before the apple fell from the tree     It was always you with me  Heard the cries of my first born     Made love till early morn     Beneath the stars     In a rocket      Jupiter to mars     With you only you     It was always you with me     A love so great     It spans from New York     To the Golden Gate     Even before I came to be      It was always you with me     Traveled far and wide     My love at my side     To guide the way     Listen to what I say     If I die tomorrow     Please no tears of sorrow     I have seen the pyramids     Made love on the eiffel towers     In a bed of flowers     With you only you It was always you with me     A million years before man walked the earth     Before I could see    It was always you with me     Put the angel on top of the tree     Bounced my newborn on my knee     It was always you with me     When I close my eyes     Only you only you do I see     The truth never lies     It was always you with me     Alexander conquered the world     Before Julius Ceasar came to be     In all the books for all to see    It was always you with me    Romeo and Juliet gave their lives to be     A history of love        For all the world to see      It was always you with me      A love so great      It spans from New York       To the Golden Gate      Even before I came to be     It was always you with me

Poem Details | by kasim ishmael |
Categories: life, city, love, new york, , cute,


She runs in the cornfields
 Got twigs in her hair
Playing with her dog tilly
Her only friend out there

She grew up on a farm
  Fish by the water fall
Likes playing in the barn
Looking cute doing it all

Driving to Manhattan
Is a New York City boy
 Going to a show on Broadway
He is self employed

He’s opening a disco 
And a  grand wedding hall
He collects from craigslist
And for charity he gives it all

He is a city boy
And she’s a country girl
Wouldn’t they be perfect?
In each other’s world

Just a lonely city jack
And a natural country chick
Bet if they both meet
True love will click

She listens to old country music
Likes to cook, read, and dance
Her nails are broken
She hems her father’s pants

She goes hunting
Down by the creek
Then runs in the cornfields
A little dirt on her cheeks

He’s in his kitchen 
He’s baking a cake
His friends call him
 Football today he’s running late

He goes for long drives
When he needs to clear his mind
Driving fast down the highway
Leaves his problems behind

He is a New York City boy
And she a Texas country girl
Wouldn’t they be perfect?
In each other’s world

Just a New York City jack
And a pretty country chick
Will they ever meet one day?
For True love to click

They are people who belong together
But they will never meet in life
Sometimes faith and destiny 
Are cut in half by a two edge knife

He sits on his jeep Cherokee
Looking up at the night
She sits in her gallery
Looking at a star so bright

She runs to the cornfields
Long hair like gold
He drives to Manhattan
Let the future unfold

Poem Details | by I Dream In Poetry |
Categories: life, musicme, love, me,

730 miles to New York City

2060 to L.A.
But it is just 280 miles to Nashville, Tennessee
Where I can see the country stars of the Grand Ol' Opry
Like Faith, Alan, Tim and Toby

I have gone mostly country
But I don't wear those boots
I have gone mostly country
My blonde hair is showing its roots
Gone country...There I go

I never really liked Madonna
I tried to Vouge 
But I hurt myself
Not much for punk
But I love the Ramones

My bedroom wall was covered
Mom never needed to wallpaper
Floor and ceiling with the faces
Of 80's rock and roll

Poison made me want to talk dirty
Winger, I was only seventeen, but didn't care
Skid Row said I was a youth gone wild
And Bon Jovi said I gave love a bad name

Don't get me wrong
I still melt
When Jon Bon Jovi flashes that smile
And sings me his song

But when Toby Keith asks me who's your daddy (OH baby!)
Make me think naughty thoughts
And makes me have a evil grin
Makes me want to lay my hands on him
Sorry, I guess I am torn

They both make my mouth drool
But I am no fool
I may love country
But my first love
Comes from New Jersey

Poem Details | by Ravi Sathasivam |
Categories: sad, world, lost, people, peace, children, lost, love, new york, peace, people,

Tears of New York City

Tears of New York city...... On the day of New York city was attacked the whole world was waken and shaken up by terrorism. When the thundering air crafts brought down the twin towers The hearts of the people scattered in to thousand pieces. It is so hard to see people are falling down from buildings to the death. It is so tearful to see people were burning alive in side the buildings It is so fearful to watch people crushing down with the buildings Parents lost their children and children lost their parents Brothers lost their sisters and sisters lost their brothers Friends lost their friends and loved one lost their loved one The pain and sorrow covered entire world and the wet tears rolling The prayers are conducted to those people who lost their life We reached the moon but we have not achieved peace on earth Our law and order ignore our needs and terrorist are filled in our nation This is the time to eliminate those evil who are against human beings Let us pray for peace and love in the new world and to the heaven upon holding us on its wings of love and safe hands. Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka Copyright ©2004 Ravi Sathasivam

Poem Details | by A.O. Taner |
Categories: dedication, emotions, how i feel, i am, i love you, i miss you, inspiration, inspirational, life, loneliness, lonely, lost, lost love, love, new york, remember, true love, urban,

One-way Street

down the road from you
not too far away 
there once lived an I
alone and together
with hopes and dreams
always keeping an eye out
for that right moment
who never made it
to our one-way street

Poem Details | by Krisallah Da Yah |
Categories: fire, love, new york,


Sexy ass ass, God
wonderful breast that make Virgin's love
so which ones?!?
you love those Debbie Downers!?!?
they might cut it off just to make it incomplete
you gotta be the best thing that happened to me
if you were a whore 
I might take you off the cornerstone
and make cash with it instead of Ass Kissing
and I am the one YOU sex
in the symbol of a woman to make you feel flesh
Don't listen to rabbit
he ain't got love in which is like pleasure
Our pleasure is the best because our love connects
I love you dark hair
wheat field smile
cuz not even an Angel can reach it
and that my city
and you are the most beautiful so I'm snitching

Poem Details | by Agatha Jetaime |
Categories: addiction, celebrity, fantasy, i miss you, love, music, new york,

Marc Broussard

On June 5th Marc Broussard's performing in NY
I spot you in the crowd, come up and ask "May I?"
Why oh why, dear Lord, I met you once again?
It's bitter sweetThis awful joyI don't complain.

You turn 'round, surprised to see me standing there.
You are caught off guard, you smile and touch your hair.
Hi Olga! Wow! Looking great! Who could have thought?
Meeting's delightful, many memories it brought.

You're approaching closer, give me greeting hug.
I waited for this moment for such a long time.
I'm so damn happy as if a squeaking pug
As owner's face appearsShortly but you'll be mine!

Right, so how long are you in town for? I ask.
Still trying to keep my shy face under the mask.
Oh just for the weekend to see Broussard's show
But now that you appear here like summerly snow

Well I might just spend a few more extra days.
Bloody fire! Wait! Oh are you for real, I wonder?
I stare at you drowning in the eyesAmazed.
It's summer storm inside and loud roaring thunder.

Marc sings, we sing alongSuch great atmosphere! 
Met againAt all odds we weren't supposed to meet! 
I wait out to ask you "Let's get out of here?"
Here goes all self growth work! I'll start with empty sheet...

Poem Details | by kasim ishmael |
Categories: history, inspirational, introspection, people, love, people, universe,

9 11 new york

I remember my friend Clifford
Saying if I heard bout the plane
That had hit the trade center
Then I feel a chill run thru my vein

We all went outside to see
There was smoke from the building
Then the next plane comes again
And struck as we stand there looking

 We were right in the edge
Of the famous Hudson River
Where all the ships would receive
Then leave with their cargo to deliver

 I said hope every one is okay
And make it out alive
But I was so very wrong 
Because so many did not survive

And from that moment on
The world change for the worst
Wars and terrorism will forever
Spread through out the universe

So many innocent people died
Children, Husbands and wives
Muslims, Hindus, Christians, Jews
So many people losing their lives

And I remember being a Muslim
You start to live with a fear
Because there were random attacks
On Muslims and Indians every where

But it was just the acts some fools
Just like the fanatics on the planes
Because of the hatred in their hearts
The innocents will bear the pains

Some people will use a situation
To spread the hate that they feel
And some will use their understandings
To look at the facts the are real

9-11 will always be in my mind
It was the worst day of my life
And every year on the date
Will cut my heart like a knife

We all are made of flesh and blood
Regardless the color of our skin
And if we all try to live together
Then peace and love will win

I believe in and respect all religions
Although it was made by man
God just wants us to lover each other
It’s the biggest part of his plan

To the families who lost love ones
I can’t find the words to say
But on this date for ever
Together we all will pray

Poem Details | by paul holmes |
Categories: appreciation, child, feelings, hope, life, love,

A Rose in New York

Encompassed in a concrete enclave
Choking fumes swirl all around;
Long shadows steal the sunlight
And yet, firmly it stands its ground.

What little light it does receive
Are of colours red, amber and green,
And often at night time neon pink
And brilliant scarlet can be seen.

As each of the seasons change
From spring to summer to fall,
Its lovely silken pink petals
Appear more prominent to all.

Alas, the biting, bitter chill 
Of winter’s hostile breath
Blows on the rose for days
Sending all flowers to their death.

Yet, this pink rose in New York
Endures all that comes its way
As a little girl goes to school
She gently touches it every day.

Love flows to that flower
From her fingers so kind and soft
And thus, it blooms for her daily
And her heart is raised aloft

Poem Details | by Brendan J. Simons |
Categories: love, nature, new york,

Adirondack Air

At the foot of the massive massif bluffs which bounce atop upstate New York,
The air is thick with suburban smog bottled beneath the mountains' unpopped cork.

The fumes from factories of the foothill folk have feigned a fluorescent flora:
Sickly neon trees which litter the mountains' feet with a parasitized dimming aura.

Yet through the upward winding roads which sprint through the veins of Troy,
A thinning air begins to brag of a bigger breath that which a tree might better enjoy.

For in the Adirondack Park, where a mile up is met by one hundred and sixty wide,
The savior of the Mountain Air sits above the broken boundaries beneath her sides

Rescued from the valley below where breath is but a wanton worry of what comes next,
I've been blessed with a chance to escape from the underworld of wires, screens and texts.

I thank these mountains for their unblemished air which echoes with songs of loons,
Who skim across the trickled placid puddles of lake where people party upon pontoons

I owe the Mountain Air for my view of life as love,
A sight some miss without a chance to see from up above.

Poem Details | by Matt Caliri |
Categories: love,

New York

What can be said
That hasn't been said?
This: The newness of experience
Of every sentient searcher
In their inability, their complete futility,
Of  "staying in"
With the magma buzz beyond the window,
The heat and expanse
Beckoning the poet's aching heart
In the coldest month of Manhattan.
February in New York.
All desires derivative of a single step.
We arrive and splay outward the reckless fit of our passion
As we love and learn
New York.

Poem Details | by Michael Rossillio |
Categories: inspirational, religion, love, time,

Miracle in New York

She woke up late that morning
From the fight the night before
She had argued with her husband
About what, she wasn't sure

He left for work some time ago
She never said goodbye
And now she felt a sense of guilt
As she began to cry

The tears cooled down her coffee
And she quickly rinsed the mug
Then took her keys off of the shelf
And gave the dog a hug

Halfway toward the door she saw
A horrifying scene
The TV was still on and showed
Disaster on the screen

She saw the tower burning
And could not believe her eyes
She watched the people running
And she heard their frightened cries

The telephone began to ring
She grabbed it, said "hello"
Her mother on the other end
Was speaking soft and low

"Beth, did you just hear the news
The tower has been hit"
Just then she felt her legs give way
She took a chair to sit

"Mom, this can't be happening
I feel like I could scream
Please say it's not reality
But just an awful dream"

"I better keep the line free
Just in case Dan tires to call"
She said goodbye, hung up the phone
And ran towards the hall

She stopped before the mantle
Where the little statue stood
Then fell down on her knees
And hoped her prayers would do some good

"Please, dear Blessed Mother
Dan's inside that building now
I couldn't live without him
I don't think I would know how"

"I never should have yelled last night
Now he may never know
How much I'd like to take it back
And how I love him so"

The strangest thing then happened
Tears fell from the statue's face
The Holy Virgin spoke to Beth
In sorrrow and with grace

"A heinous thing was done today
So many lives are lost
A vicious plan to get revenge
No matter what the cost"

"Evil has no boundaries
But there is a price to pay
When God brings down his mighty hand
At last on Judgment Day"

"Pray for all the victims
Their families and friends
Ask my Son to intervene
So war and hate will end"

The phone rang once again
This time she heard her husband speak
He said, "oh Babe, I love you"
And the tears ran down her cheeks

"Beth, it was so awful
I could not see my way out
The smoke was black and thick
I had to feel my way about"

"Suddenly a woman
Who I'd never seen before
Smiled as if she knew me
As she montioned toward the door"

"As I approached the exit
I encountered something weird
I reached back to pull her out
But she had disappeared"

Her hand flew to her mouth
As Beth let out a thnankful sigh
She knew the Blessed Mother
Had ensured Dan wouldn't die

Poem Details | by Andrea Dietrich |
Categories: lost love,

A New York Love Story

Two waiting for a train metInstantly,
they found themselves the recipients of
a thing that neither thought they’d ever see -
that crazy thing “at first sight” known as love

They’d said their names to one another, yet
their last names they’d not given, when by chance
the girl got shoved and somehow could not get
aboard the trainShe lost her new romance!

New York is a big city! Three years passed.
They searched, but neither found the other one.
Gloom was a cloud above them till at last,
the girl spied one wet day her ray of sun!

Right there in front of her, that young man stood.
It was as if their cloudy years of pain
were washed away foreverOh, how good
they both felt in that sudden burst of rain!

Oct 28, 2018 For Brenda Chiri's Tell Me A Story Poetry Contest

Poem Details | by Aileen Diaz Kavanaugh |
Categories: lost love, me,

New York New York

Anchor me here in your harbor of hurt.
Say you're in love with me, but please make it curt.
The water is shallow the people are too.
In the very beginning it was just me and you.
My heart is half empty and there's no one to blame.
I did it all myself, in this self destructive game.
So as I lay dying here on the floor.
Do whatever you want just don't close the door.

Poem Details | by Matt Caliri |
Categories: love, sad,

New York (III)

Like two detectives in the night
We walk the glass slipper.
I have to remind myself  I’m still learning.
To be alone is the soul’s paralysis.
Though in the solitude there is everything.
To be sad  is ongoing, and important for life.
And to be free is the starving mind,
Growing and starving.
Step and Stares.
New York wares.
Eat me.

Poem Details | by Allan Terry |
Categories: adventure, autumn, business, engagement, guitar, love, new york,

Yeastroll supper

10 eggplants sliced 1/2 inch thickness
10 yellow squashes 1/2 inch thickness
10 zucchini 1/2 inch thickness
marinade in.....
 1/2 cup of sesame seed oil
1/4 cup of olive oil
1/4 cup of parmesan cheese
5 Tablespoons of crushed garlic
5 Tablespoons of crushed red peppers
1/4 cup of dehydrated onions
1 tablespoon of salt
2 tablespoons of cayenne
1/4 cup of lemon juice
1/4 cilantro
mix together and allow to stand about 3 hours before you bake at 350 for about twenty minutes, or until browned.

4 cups of onions
1/4 c butter
1/4 c olive oil
4 New York Strips sliced (1/4 Inch strips
1/4 c of red wine
7 garlic cloves (crushed)

in a large skillet, bring oil and butter to a good heated temperature, add the meat caramelize the pieces, and remove from the pan(cook, rare, rare), add onions, allow onions to become translucent,
reduce heat, and brown the onions, then add the garlic and wine, and about 5 tablespoons of butter ,place meat back into the pan
place in oven for about fifth teen minutes, drain the juices, make a gravy.
serve with baked potatoes or mashed potatoes.

"beyond words
those which express devotion
and those that express the gratitude of 
people who love being together
people who love one another
and people who like being loved by one another"