What would you think Whitman this second?
What say you of your visions of America today?
There is fire blazing in the sky,
flames bursting from the Pentagon,
ashes of the New York World Trade Center,
people running through streets of the great city.
Blood, dead, rubble, tears, screams,
shock, fear, & more blazes.

What would you think Ginsberg?
wish your Mantras were with us now,
your beard & wisdom upon us with
your hands chiming Buddhist bells,
chimes to clamor for world peace.

Today on the news all we see is evil,
grief & President Bush promising more blood.
What do we see America?
Roethke, can we recover from this wound?
The innocent are dying all around us &
on TV some Arabs are smiling in celebration.

The death of the innocent is never something to celebrate,
there were people of color in the rubble, janitors, mothers, daughters.
Killing is never something to celebrate,
but Nations seem to retaliate daily and
grandmothers, children, babies die in this insanity.
Where will it get us?
There are rivers of blood forming.

I find myself crying throughout the day for the fallen Americans,
for the fallen of every Nation & for the falling of those to come.
I never felt it fully until today,
the brittleness of my bones.
Knowing this, how should we live life?



Splendid buildings & thousands die in seconds,
as if all of beauty can be destroyed in a flash quicker
than lightning.
It can all be over in a breath.
It can all be over in a breath.

What do we do with this wisdom?
Bomb another Nation so
their children can weep too?
What conditons have created this battleground Earth?
An eye for an eye and all will be blind.
Turn the cheek and love. peace. communication.

I hear the screams of sirens,
and smoke is in the sky today,
images of planes colliding into towers,
screams from living rooms as people watch the TV in horror,
we cannot feel the isolation anymore.

Those on ground Zero reporting of
the foul smell and taste of the stench of burning flesh.

The young wonder if there will be war,
and the word TERROISTS gets imprinted in brains &
a wave of fear is rumbling .
There are moments where things are never the same,
moments when everything collapses & must be rebuilt.
This is such a moment.

Frantic searches for loved ones,
unanswered questions,
No one is talking in America but of tragedy.

There is a mourning in Americs,
a sorrow too deep for words.
Tom Clancy saw it,
planes as bombs,
how all things can be weapons.

Blood banks fill,
American flags go up,
people are searching for something to do.

Prophecies are everywhere.
Is this fire in the sky that of Nostradamus of the New City?
All our worries seem so absurd today,
the girl we couldn't sleep with,
things we didn't get,
problems at work,
lack of friends,
financial concerns.
Does it really matter when there are sufferings so great we can
not speak of?
Does anything really matter but love?

Buildings & malls shut down--
Never seen anything like this before.
What would you say Ginsberg?

Security will tighten &
America will not be the same.


I live near an airport,
but today is the first time I heard no planes in the sky.
It's eerie how silence can be frightening.

High rises still blaze & blaze,
hundred feet piles of rubble,
rescue workers searching for alive & dead.

O Whitman, will we find what we are looking for under that rubble & dead bodies? Will we find peace somewhere in another's grave?
will we start to form new visions of America or what will
future poets write on America's tombstone?