City of God

4 train at Grand Central 42nd Street

City of God

Into the breach again

All ties dissolved behind

Ahead a platform, a staircase

A daylight world

Of unformed possibility

A swirl of probability

When I don’t fall I throw myself

I forgo sunglasses, preferring

You see my eyes

What you’ve created

The beauty, the depth

The endless blue

At a certain distance

Blurred by a tear

Of recognition

That I am created

That what I see is only beauty

Stark, effortless

And human

Moving, climbing

Writhing

In the filth, in the sharp

Voices and guarded glances

Sirens, hawkers and

Wide-eyed children

In abject weariness of overload

And the poverty

Of disconnection

In the rubble of

Walls that crumble

Unexpectedly

At the gentlest touch

Of something human

I reach out, creator

At the strangest moments

To test the give in a wall

Dig a little dusty mortar

From between heavy stones

Moisten it with a tear

And build a home

.

©2014 Jason Anderson

Where We Live

From my travels in your dark heart

And every thing I’ve seen within

Among a million memories most clear

Are moments I met your eyes

Lucid wondering

Leering enticing

Bored guarded

Exhausted measuring

Aggravated yearning

Hopeful angry

Wielded alluring

Eager innocent

Lost vengeful

Delusional petrified

Tearful promising

Distant cutting

Wandering shining

Young callous

Rebellious derisive

Abashed urgent

Hungry ancient

Broken exultant

Level gazes and economic appraisals

In a town where up and down

Are the norm, instant fleeting

Entanglements, lives together

Lived in a shiver of a moment

And the shrug of a heartbeat

Lost to the turn of a corner or

The shutting of a subway door

Capricious loves lavished and quenched

Promised eternities foiled by a stray eyelash

A speck of dust in the whirlwind

Or an inverted umbrella

Always another, next more

Behind beyond again forever

Packed together we who watch

Will watch, and witness ourselves

In crescent moments of accident

And sliver heartbeats of insight

And know where we live

.

By Jason Anderson

Downpour

Bright-eyed gods looked on

As angels fell in legions

Men shadowed along in haste

Their pursuers left at the turning light

And their power outpaced, they ran free

Casting angels from their hair and chins

.

By Jason Anderson

New world

A world exists in a subway car

And from hemisphere to hemisphere

Tourists stare

At picture postcards of cities

They’ve never known

Unguarded, uninvasive

Behind borders

They will never cross

Down foreign streets

Where they never go

.

By Jason Anderson

The beat and the blood

4 train at Grand Central 42nd Street

I

In the hazy beginnings

And endings

Of days

Run,

Blood in these veins

Driven by beat

Mechanical

And beat divine

Subway wall

And station hall

Prophets change

Salvation

To bread

Their words run

Through me

As the drums

Pump youth

Through tunnels

Dying to be young

Steaming

Steel

Souls and bodies

Minds and wits

And dancing feet

Slipping on tile

Spilling hot and red

To the surface

To sacrifice their heat

To wintry breath

Through the veins

I run

The blood

Through hazy beginnings

And neon endings

Of days

To the place

Where the prophets

Fall silent

And all is flesh

And madness

And time’s jealous eye

And the beat

And the bodies

And the youth

Run steaming

Through gutters

Stopped up with

New-fallen snow

Cigarette butts

Nips and buds

And dancing feet

From the moon

They come

These feet to run

In these veins

And spill in

These streets

Driven, dying

By this beat

Through brilliant frozen

Midnights

Of surrection

Oblivious

To the neon beginnings

And endings

Of days

.

By Jason Anderson