Twin Towers in the Clouds
They rose above the Clouds
as my charter passed downtown.
An April day dawning,
thirty thousand feet from ground.
It was as if they, alone, had been spared
And all New York was gone.
The future was quite different,
Something I could not have known.
Two other planes approaching
on a clear September morn.
changed utterly, the world;
Twin Towers, smoking, gone.
The death of one or several men
Might barely give us pause,
but as we read two thousand names
We’re still fighting two wars.
Peace continues to elude us
No matter whom we catch or kill.
Sometimes, in dreams, I think I see
the towers standing still.
But in the cold grey light of morning
I know I never will.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Related quotes
A Bad Day In September
People woke up on a September day
Not knowing what price they would pay
The Twin Towers stood so tall
Who ever knew they would fall
Reaching high, up to the sky
People lived and people died
There was smoke, people screaming
What the heck, was I dreaming?
Planes hit the towers
In the early morning dawn
Everyone knew something was wrong
Chaos, confusion, aghast, looks of fright
Running screaming terror in sight
Where were you on the day?
Where you there?
Did you stop and stare?
Stare in shock?
Stare and scream?
People were fighting to get free
Families calling on the phone
Hoping to hear “I’ll be home”
Instead they heard
“I love you and goodbye”
Give my kids a kiss
And tell them they will be missed
Once twin towers
Now ground zero
We’d like to say
“Your our hero”
To all the hero’s
How brave you are
Risking your life
For one for all
We want to say
Thank you god bless!
You’re the best
People woke up on that September day
Not knowing what price they would pay
Our lives are forever changed
But are faith and freedom
Will stay the same
poem by Emmy Huffman
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Beethoven In Central Park
(After a glimpse of a certain monument in New York, during the
Victory Celebration)
The thousand-windowed towers were all alight.
Throngs of all nations filled that glittering way;
And, rich with dreams of the approaching day,
Flags of all nations trampled down the night.
No clouds, at sunset, die in airs as bright.
No clouds, at dawn, awake in winds as gay;
For Freedom rose in that august array,
Crowned with the stars and weaponed for the right.
Then, in a place of whispering leaves and gloom,
I saw, too dark, too dumb for bronze or stone,
One tragic head that bowed against the sky;
O, in a hush too deep for any tomb
I saw Beethoven, dreadfully alone
With his own grief, and his own majesty.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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War In Secret
I don’t know much about war,
at least first hand I don’t.
But in my neighborhood,
when I was a child,
there was an old man
who had been in world War I.
He would ride his bicycle daily
up and down the streets,
pumping only the left pedal.
He didn’t remember about the war,
and all he got from it was
an artificial right leg.
I don’t know much about war but,
my uncle flew bombers
during World War II.
In an old album there is a picture
of him standing by a plane which
is painted with a big white star.
My grandparents were so proud but,
he never wants to talk about the war,
he only wants to remember
and talk about the planes.
I don’t know much about war,
but I know of two magnificent towers,
ones I’ve seen only in pictures.
Once they stood in New York City.
Proudly they stood,
jutting twenty-five years into the sky,
slicing the clouds.
Now they are gone,
taking with them approximately
two thousand seven hundred fifty lives.
This is what I know about war,
war in secret, plotted and
executed with ease,
with no remorse.
And this, I will always remember.
poem by Betty Bleen
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September Eleven Anniversary, USA
Another year has gone away
Another September has come
The memories of that fateful day
Will linger on alive today
“The chaos,
The pathos
The tragedy
Sans remedy! ”
No more are there Twin Towers
Razed to ground by evil powers!
Unleashed was Hell upon the earth
Lives precious lost for no reason!
Sad memories are evergreen
It proved what terrorists have been
It showed their hearts, wicked and mean
a sample of that seen, unseen!
A glorious nation’s people meet
Their hearts in unison all beat
“Let stronger towers arise neat
Let’s undo the enemies’ feat”
“Terrorism must be wiped out,
Most anguished souls simply cry out!
A few insane shan’t spoil the peace
Of millions, innocent with ease! ”
‘May hope rebuild towers anew! ’
poem by John Celes
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Day of Grief
Day is...
Day is not...
The sun
Continues to rise...
And set...
Only to rise again.
Life goes on...
Day in...
Day out...
And yet, somewhere,
Buried deep in my soul,
The tears continue
To fall,
And the pain goes on,
Always and ever,
For those lost souls
Of September 11,
And for the loss
Of the world
As we knew it.
As FDR said about the bombing of Pearl Harbor, at the start of World
War II, 'A day that will live in infamy...' So is the day the Twin Towers
fell, and thousands died...Thousands who planned to go home that night, and yet never had the chance. Thousands who never dreamed their world would end on that day, in that way, became immortal before the setting of the sun, September 11,2001. God rest their souls.
Linda Treat
September 11,2001
poem by Scarlett Treat
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The World Trade Centre Doesn't Exist Anymore
Two-thousand and one. Eleventh of September.
A day we will always remember
When the world watched a city go ablaze;
Two tall towers were what caught the people's gaze.
Planes had flown and crashed like a missile,
With tragic consequences proving absolutely vile.
Every person left stunned, many with tearful eyes,
Not very common under pleasant blue skies.
The Pentagon next, and then followed by a field;
Shame the innocent passengers had no shield
To save themselves from their fiery end.
Man had witnessed evil like never before,
And one to take responsibility was Osama Bin Laden,
Laying back and not participating - the coward,
Possibly laughing at those who wallow and sadden.
It was a terrorist attack, one never seen before;
Who knows what else Al-Qaeda have in store?
A brutally callous attack claiming the lives
Of nearly three-thousand and two,
Including Brian Dale, Mike Cahill,
Dong Lee, and Todd Beamer, too.
We will not forget those who were victimised
For such history is always memorised.
New York City is not the same as it was before
Because, as all broken-hearted people know,
The World Trade Centre doesn't exist anymore.
poem by Stephen Cahill Furlong
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September 11th
Remember the two tall twin towers,
the crumbling ash that fell not in hours
but just mere minutes,
minutes of horror and disbelief
watched over and over with sadness and grief.
It was played repeatedly on the TV,
ripping apart viewer's psyche.
And whom did we blame for this blatant act?
A man in a cave that can't be tracked?
Suspicious minds say, 'This cannot be.'
Planes that flew unmercifully
while our president sat and read a book,
safe in a school while the towers shook.
And so we remember, yes we remember
that treacherous day in the month of September
when husbands and wives, sons and daughters
were gone in minutes from instant slaughter.
And who were the brave that came to the rescue?
Ordinary Americans that had a job to do.
And where were the officials?
Nowhere in sight
Scurrying like rats in the middle of the night.
So we reflect today and what do we see?
Empty space
and a memory
of what can happen when our leaders vacate
and don't do their job until it's too late.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Inspired By A Radio Story
Monarch butterflies were flitting above the smoke
And one of the New York firemen dousing the still smouldering ashes spoke
Saying those are the souls of the many who died here
On silent wings to heaven's gate they near.
The souls of those who died on that September day
Towards a better World now slowly wing their way
Of all sufferings and troubles now quite free
For to re-live in love and joy and harmony.
The smoke from the smouldering ashes their souls did release
And they now can live forever more in peace
In that paradise somewhere beyond the skies
The fireman wiped the teardrops from his eyes.
On September the eleventh New York's blackest day
When tragedy came to the U.S.A.
The great Twin Towers by aerial terrorists destroyed
And the souls still live of all of those who died.
Butterflies flew towards the sunlight above the clouds of smoke
And his comrades listened as the fireman spoke
And said those are the souls of the people who died here
On silent wings towards heaven's gate they near.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Man's Inhumanity
We have read about New York's Twin Towers and Hiroshima in Japan
Just for us two examples of man's inhumanity to man
And of Hitler and his Holocaust one who lives on in illfame
And of Stalin and of Mao and their awful crimes of shame.
We've heard of Pol Pot in Cambodia millions did suffer when he did rule
Some with power at their disposal they can be so very cruel
But in truth they were no different to some of the rulers of today
Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe as a despot now leads the way.
Streets in some Cities honour Oliver Cromwell yet if we go back in time
Against poor Catholic Irish peasants he committed many a crime
But 'tis said the winners write the war history with that one must agree
And Cromwell he is honoured for his crimes against humanity.
Idi Amin of Uganda of old age in exile died
The unmarked graves of his Homeland his shame forever hide
And up to a million Tutsis in Rwanda by their fellow Rwandans butchered to death
And this only in the recent past history repeats itself lest we forget.
We have not learned from history or so 'twould seem that way
So many despotic leaders in the World of today
And the Twin Towers of New York and Hiroshima in Japan
Are only two examples of man's inhumanity to man.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Thousand Years
Words by sting, music by sting and kipper
A thousand years, a thousand more,
A thousand times a million doors to eternity
I may have lived a thousand lives, a thousand times
An endless turning stairway climbs
To a tower of souls
If it takes another thousand years, a thousand wars,
The towers rise to numberless floors in space
I could shed another million tears, a million breaths,
A million names but only one truth to face
A million roads, a million fears
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balance of time
But if there was a single truth, a single light
A single thought, a singular touch of grace
Then following this single point , this single flame,
The single haunted memory of your face
I still love you
I still want you
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head
I may be numberless, I may be innocent
I may know many things, I may be ignorant
Or I could ride with kings and conquer many lands
Or win this world at cards and let it slip my hands
I could be cannon food, destroyed a thousand times
Reborn as fortunes child to judge anothers crimes
Or wear this pilgrims cloak, or be a common thief
Ive kept this single faith, I have but one belief
I still love you
I still want you
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head
On and on the mysteries unwind themselves
Eternities still unsaid
til you love me
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What will you Remember
As the red white and blue wave through the air on Memorial Day what will you remember. Will you remember just the towers falling on September 11,2001 and all the hundreds of lives lost but as you remember them don’t forget four thousand plus coffins that has come home with the red white and blue draped upon all in the name of justice. Will you remember the hundreds of families in America that has been torn apart because of September 11 and if you do don’t forget there are just as many Iraq Families torn apart because of this war on terrorism. When I wake up tomorrow morning on Memorial Day you know what I going to try to remember a world were war is not the answers but forgiveness that brings peace.
When they released Sidewalks of New York, there were some shots with the towers they were going to take out, and Ed told them no. I don't think they can deny the towers were a part of New York.
quote by Dennis Farina
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leaving White King City
White King City I left at dawn
in the morning-glow of the clouds;
The thousand miles to Chiang-ling
we sailed in a single day.
On either shore the gibbons' chatter
sounded without pause
While my light boat skimmed past
ten thousand sombre crags.
The House Of Dust: Part 01: 08: The white fog creeps from the cold sea over the city
The white fog creeps from the cold sea over the city,
Over the pale grey tumbled towers,—
And settles among the roofs, the pale grey walls.
Along damp sinuous streets it crawls,
Curls like a dream among the motionless trees
And seems to freeze.
The fog slips ghostlike into a thousand rooms,
Whirls over sleeping faces,
Spins in an atomy dance round misty street lamps;
And blows in cloudy waves over open spaces . . .
And one from his high window, looking down,
Peers at the cloud-white town,
And thinks its island towers are like a dream . . .
It seems an enormous sleeper, within whose brain
Laborious shadows revolve and break and gleam.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Irkalla's White Caves
I believe that a young woman
Is standing in a circle of lions
In the other side of the sky.
In a little while I must carry her the flowers
Which only fade here; and she will not cry
If my hands are not very full.
±
Fiery antlers toss within the forests of heaven
And ocean’s plaintive towns
Echo the tread of celestial feet.
O the beautiful eyes stare down…
What have we done that we are blessèd?
What have we died that we hasten to God?
±
And all the animals are asleep again
In their separate caves.
Hairy bellies distended with their kill.
Culture blubbering in and out
Like the breath of a stranded fish.
Crucifixion in wax. The test-tube messiahs.
Immaculate fornication under the smoking walls
Of a dead world.
I dig for my death
in this thousand-watt dungheap.
There isn’t even enough clean air.
To die in.
O blood-bearded destroyer!
In other times...
(soundless barges float
down the rivers of death)
In another heart
These crimes may not flower…
What have we done that we are blessèd?
What have we damned that we are blinded?
±
Now, with my seven-holed head open
On the air whence comes a fabulous mariner
To take his place among the spheres—
The air which is God
And the mariner who is sheep—I fold
Upon myself like a bird over flames. Then
All my nightbound juices sing. Snails
Pop out of unexpected places and the long
light lances of waterbulls plunge
into the green crotch of my native land.
Eyes peer out of the seaweed that gently sways
Above the towers and salt gates of a lost world.
±
On the other side of the sky
A young woman is standing
In a circle of lions—
The young woman who is dream
And the lions which are death.
poem by Kenneth Patchen
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Skill is successfully walking a tightrope between the twin towers of New York's World Trade Center. Intelligence is not trying.
quote by Marilyn vos Savant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heaven Is Falling
As I walk beneath the valley
I shall fear no evil
for thanks to King George and his rainbow cabinet
today murder is legal
God I know that it's wrong
to kill my brother for what he hasn't done
and as the planes blacken the sky
it sounds like heaven is falling
it sounds like heaven is falling
you promises me a new day a'dawning
I've seen a thousand points of light
like so many points of hatred, shame and horror
God I want to be a man
but I don't want to die with a rifle in my hand
and as the planes blacken the sky
it sounds like heaven is falling
it sounds like heaven is falling
you promised me a new day a'dawning
well nothing here looks new to me
but a score of mothers' sons
caught 'tween the devil and the deep blue sea
song performed by by Ataris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swarming
A solid belief of karmic influence becomes
fluidus
but life was questioning again.
You take to wars
with thousand of nukes:
still the daffodils were dancing.
Float me on the bodies of bullet ridden
moons and clouds:
the red river, spiteful, has changed the course.
Ah, the snaky hate
hisses with split tongue.
Mockery of towers plays again.
The dumb leather did not forget
the shape of the baby.
million needles were still crawling.
Thick boundaries were steaming hard.
All nipples, no furs to walk
on the flames.
poem by Satish Verma
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September 11th
The 11th of september
A date all came to remember
Wounds were made that still remain sore
While razed was that none can restore
Amongst tragedy so severe
Heroes were born we're to revere
Unwitting souls lived a nightmare
Scenes of which all became aware
An evil act changed lives for good
Sited where twin towers once stood
Now dust has settled on the ground
And spirits have slowly rebound
Thoughts go out to all those that died
While respects are paid nationwide
A strength is found to move forward
In this world that's ever wayward
poem by Christian Lacdael
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NSA Policy Is Wars Protecting
reality in the world
political situation
is changing interesting
but sadly disappointing
welcome home realities
National Security Agency
can employ an extra ten
thousand new recruits sparkling
per year of operation
in a post 9/11 recruit world
ten thousand dedicated to spying
no policy warrant taps required
ten thousand new spying lying
within invasive codes secrecy
but hire a single guru of peace?
no profit policy is wars protecting
NSA numbered legal exemptions
from law requirements disturbing
time safeguarding oil wars spending
business profits from wars protecting
if we would spend as much on peace
if we would spend as much on peace
as we do in vast sums totaled on wars
we would be a happy little planet stunning
poem by Terence George Craddock
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