To celebrate National Poetry Month this April, we’re doing a follow-up to our 9 Poems About NYC post. This time around we’re covering Brooklyn exclusively. Our beautiful borough has been—and continues to be—a muse for poets who have immortalized Brooklyn’s spirit in countless ways, from writing about bridges, real estate and parks, to people, emotions and day-to-day life.
Whether you’re a lifelong Brooklynite, soon-to-be resident or just an admirer from afar, these poems offer a lyrical journey through one of New York City’s most iconic boroughs.
(excerpt)
How many dawns, chill from his rippling rest
The seagull’s wings shall dip and pivot him,
Shedding white rings of tumult, building high
Over the chained bay waters Liberty—
Then, with inviolate curve, forsake our eyes
As apparitional as sails that cross
Some page of figures to be filed away;
—Till elevators drop us from our day …
I think of cinemas, panoramic sleights
With multitudes bent toward some flashing scene
Never disclosed, but hastened to again,
Foretold to other eyes on the same screen;
And Thee, across the harbor, silver paced
As though the sun took step of thee yet left
Some motion ever unspent in thy stride,—
Implicitly thy freedom staying thee!
Out of some subway scuttle, cell or loft
A bedlamite speeds to thy parapets,
Tilting there momently, shrill shirt ballooning,
A jest falls from the speechless caravan.
Read full The Bridge: To Brooklyn Bridge poem.
(excerpt)
Some days I catch a rhythm, almost a song
in my own breath. I’m alone here
in Brooklyn Heights, late morning, the sky
above the St. George Hotel clear, clear
for New York, that is. The radio playing
“Bird Flight,” Parker in his California
tragic voice fifty years ago, his faltering
“Lover Man” just before he crashed into chaos.
Read full Call It Music poem.
(excerpt)
Sometimes when my eyes are red
I go up on top of the RCA Building
and gaze at my world, Manhattan—
my buildings, streets I’ve done feats in,
lofts, beds, coldwater flats
—on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind,
its ant cars, little yellow taxis, men
walking the size of specks of wool—
Panorama of the bridges, sunrise over Brooklyn machine,
sun go down over New Jersey where I was born
& Paterson where I played with ants—
my later loves on 15th Street,
my greater loves of Lower East Side,
my once fabulous amours in the Bronx
Read full My Sad Self poem.
(excerpt)
To the tune:
“Li’l baby, don’t say a word: Mama goin’ to buy you a mocking-bird.
Bird don’t sing: Mama goin’ to sell it and buy a brass ring.”
“Millennium,” yes; “pandemonium”!
Roy Campanella leaps high. Dodgerdom
crowned, had Johnny Podres on the mound.
Buzzie Bavasi and the Press gave ground;
the team slapped, mauled, and asked the Yankees’ match,
“How did you feel when Sandy Amoros made the catch?”
“I said to myself”—pitcher for all innings—
“as I walked back to the mound I said, ‘Everything’s
getting better and better.’ ” (Zest, they’ve zest.
” ‘Hope springs eternal in the Brooklyn breast.’ ”
And would the Dodger Band in 8, row 1, relax
if they saw the collector of income tax?
Read full Hometown Piece for Messrs. Alston and Reese poem.
(excerpt)
Give, Coolidge,
a shout of joy!
I too won’t spare words
about good things.
Blush
at my praise,
go red as our flag,
however
united-states-
of-America
you may be.
As a crazed believer
enters
a church,
retrea’s
into a monastery cell,
austere and plain;
so I,
in graying evening
haze,
humbly set foot
on Brooklyn Bridge.
Read full Brooklyn Bridge poem.
If you’re looking for more artists who have captured the Brooklyn spirit, check out some of our other blog posts including 9 Poems About NYC, Summer in Brooklyn Playlist and our latest ART BREAK.
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