The Towers of Smoke
Hi guys! Sorry I haven't been on this as much lately. Anyways, this is a poem I wrote in school to commereate 9/11, which can be a kind of sensitive topic. This is also a poem written from a fire fighter's POV, so... well, I dunno, why I felt like I needed to tell you that, actually. I guess enjoy?? It's kinda sad..... :,( I guess that makes sense, though, with the whole 'about 9/11' thing.
Anyways, bye for now!!
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The Towers of Smoke
Sometimes, when the journalists come, they ask questions--
Questions like
How did you feel?
What did you think?
Who did you lose?
What do you remember?
That's always the hardest
I remember the sun,
Breaking through the clouds,
Lighting up the morning,
Sending golden rays through the rows of office buildings,
Like an army of giants' legs,
Forever marching to the sea
I remember the smoke,
Sharp and bitter,
Not at all like a campfire,
The first sign of something wrong
I remember the panic,
People running through the streets,
Fighting for escape
I remember a child's cry of pain,
As a skinned knee was born,
Of fire and mobs of frenzied animals
Then came the call,
The odd sense of terror-filled courage,
The surreal sight of a hole in the building,
Where dozens of cubicle workers should be
After that was the climb,
Hours of sweat and pain,
Of scratchy throats and screaming GO
Five floors, the smoke too thick to see through
Ten, twenty floors now, hundreds of people gone
By thirty I could see the flames
By thirty-seven, I saw the first raindrop
A human--I didn't know his name
I didn't know what coffee he drank,
What size his shoes were
I didn't know if he was married
He didn’t see me,
But I watched as he jumped,
Broken glass hanging in the air
As time seemed to slow,
Fire and sun joining together
I didn’t see any of the others, but
I know I saw him,
The First Jumper
A speck of humanity
Falling, falling, falling
But I couldn’t seem to move, even as
The raindrop burst on the pavement below
Moments before the thunderstorm,
Bodies colliding
With the unforgiving earth
I remember looking down,
After the first jumper
Thousands in the streets
Like ants, after their hill was destroyed,
Streaming from the towering buildings,
Cowering in the shadows,
Hiding from cruel reality
I remember continuing, fighting,
Forcing my way further and further up,
But turning back,
Compelled by the crackle of the radio
It could fit in the palm of my hand
But it saved my life
I passed a group,
On my way down
I couldn’t tell you when,
There were no windows, nowhere to look,
No horizon to offer hope,
In that stairwell brimming with death
I felt a tremendous shudder
We all felt sure then, I am certain,
That Earth herself was shaking,
Her tears mourning the dead
We did the best we could,
In this dark, hollow place
Then I was on the ground
They told me of the other tower,
Dissolved into ash and smoke,
Killings hundreds
When I was already blocks away,
I felt another BOOM,
And turned, only to see a gray cloud
Swallow the city
The puff of a giant’s breath
Into already-cool September air,
And the least thing I saw
Was a shadow
Before it swallowed me, too
Later, I found out what happened
How the North Tower was hit,
and then the South Tower
How so many died, trapped, caged, panicked
How so many more died trying to save them
How human beings did this
That’s the worst part, for me
That someone with a soul did this,
Someone who could smell the smoke, hear the screams
Someone like me
They call themselves, “Kamikaze”
I call them monsters
Who else could do this?
They say it was religious,
But they weren’t there
They didn’t smell the smoke, or see that first raindrop
They didn’t hear the screams, taste the ash
They didn’t survive so much death
Sometimes, they come
So I answer their questions
But when they ask what happened,
I say I don’t know, don’t remember
That it’s blocked out
Because they don’t really want to hear
And because when I talk about it,
The ghosts re-appear
The phantom screams,
The dim faces,
And I have to see all of those beings
Crushed again beneath a giant’s legs
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