A My Private Coney project Flash non-fiction, brief moments and old memories of a city and mother's emotional and physical real estate disappearing at the speed of heartbreak.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Knockin' On Heaven's....
These were the doors of childhood walks, parents meandering behind, sister somewhere and me running ahead seeking ways that led to hope.
2 comments:
Anonymous
said...
Hope lies not within a door but lives instead on an inward shore. Live where you may, die where you can hope will live and live again.
Did you notice the word "woe" on the last door. At least that's what it looks like to me. Doesn't sound too hopeful.
no I didn't see that. that doorway is on Market Street literally across from the Manhattan bridge and constant train traffic. I passed that door for years as I went to visit my grandmother who lived on Monroe. The building was a mystery to me as were all those doors around that area. I kept thinking they were the passageway to or out or in....
One door in this series is from 10th Avenue in the 30's. That door belongs to one of the few remaining walkups left as that neighborhood is being razed into high-rise luxury houses.
wonderful poem and thank you as always for your visits.
MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.
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2 comments:
Hope lies not within a door
but lives instead on an inward shore.
Live where you may, die where you can
hope will live and live again.
Did you notice the word "woe" on the last door. At least that's what it looks like to me. Doesn't sound too hopeful.
Woe= NY hope.
LOL!
no I didn't see that. that doorway is on Market Street literally across from the Manhattan bridge and constant train traffic. I passed that door for years as I went to visit my grandmother who lived on Monroe. The building was a mystery to me as were all those doors around that area. I kept thinking they were the passageway to or out or in....
One door in this series is from 10th Avenue in the 30's. That door belongs to one of the few remaining walkups left as that neighborhood is being razed into high-rise luxury houses.
wonderful poem and thank you as always for your visits.
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