Incarceration

City Lights are a night light

Thru my window here in the city,

And tho I sleep sound

All I dream about is her;

The personification of New York.

Not exactly the Statue of Liberty.

She doesn't liberate.

She incarcerates me

In her smoky blue eyes

As she takes another puff.

Her red hair smokes

And burns if it's touched.

But that doesn't stop me.

Some may call it love.

I call it incarceration.

Raindrops on the windshield

Blurs city lights into a cartoon.

I see people of all shapes, sizes, and colors

Through those fallen raindrop tunes.

Hands-on the wheel

Like hands on a clock,

Foot on the petal

Trying to speed time up.

Thinking that I'm dreaming

But not knowing about what.

I honk the horn, again and again,

But I never wake up.

Incarceration.

The rain stops,

But the wind keeps blowing

Hard.

I amble down the sidewalk.,

Right neath a tree; an umbrella,

As the wind blows thru its leaves,

Like running fingers thru knotty hair,

The rain-drops again briefly.

Drenching me completely.

I shake my head, mad,

But I laugh instead.

Incarceration.

The paint is so fresh

Her eyes are still wet,

And the red dye hasn't faded

Despite all the wind

Blowing through it.

Her top is sparkling

Like a-NYC building

Tucked in her apple bottom jeans,

Got my head spinning.

Let me taste those smoky lips.

Let me bite that apple

On bended knee,

Popping the question,

Popping the ring

Out of a little black box,

Like Mr. Las Vegas

With tricks up my sleeves.

You look at me

Like I ain't got a shot,

Then you shoot me down.

But I'm still in love.

Incarceration.

So I left on the next flight to Vegas

Leaving New York, she's like its

Personification.

I say "Oh well."

But the voice in my head says,

"Pray do tell."

He calls it love.

I call it incarceration.

Sep 15, 16-17, 2020

Author's Note

What made reading this worthwhile for you??

reaL

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Everything made this worthwhile...the personification of NYC...the analogy to the red haired woman the speaker is with...she is both who she is and the city.
Being from the Bronx I especially appreciate this...the blaring horns, the statue we drove by so many times...the lights...the one tree on each block...I spent my summers up in Vermont and grew to hate
living in the city...it did feel like a prison. When my dad said we were moving to Illinois, I said..."what's that? well it must be better than this"-
I did feel incarcerated...I wanted country, farms, cows...anything but hopscotch on the hot pavement.
Thank you for this journey, Cyprian.
j.

[Titilayo Sarah Eguridu]

Whimsical!
Yes, you are incarcerated and she is your jailer!
The Lady might be a statue but her presence owns the city.
First time I set my eyes on her I was seven years old.
She made and left a strong impression on my young heart.
Beautiful stories….
So layered…

Your wrote this magnificently Cyprian.
Thank you for sharing.

[Travis Gibson (poetic h..]

I'm a Jersey boy, but still enjoyed the imagery and tempo of this piece. If she feels like the personification of NYC, it means you'll always go back to her. Well done.

[Foxemerald]

I spent 5 years living in NYC, leaving only after the pandemic hit. Don’t know what inspired the NY personification, but it’s fitting of a romance you can relate to incarceration- I find my relationship with NY was very much how you describe this romance. Brilliant!

[mattavelli]

Hello, Cyprian! :)
I really enjoyed this.
I like the personification here. Thats not helpful. Haha
What I liked most was how you gave motion and texture to your metaphors. Its all sort of blurry, yet vivid. Thanks for sharing.

[Relic]

I enjoy your writing very much. Every line is understandable, like reading a book. The personification here is exceptional. Great writing.

[KWP]

this reminds me of Pablo Neruda's Valpariso poem - that alone made it worthwhile.

I have read a couple of your works now - you do have a way ...

I apprecaiate that :)

Whats with the Kangaoroo's?

[Ladysue]

Wow, this was masterfully written. You descriptions and images were vivid and held my attention all through. Ingenious piece of writing as how you weaved thoughts of city and a women, love, incarceration and wrapped it into a poem that truly should be published.

[barleygirl]

This is brilliant writing, vivid & lively & planting a constant stream of images in the reader's mind. The constant refrain of your title word is worked perfectly, not too repetitive, but just often enuf to remind us that your pounding image streams symbolize all the ways this narrator feels trapped by this woman. It's compelling & convincing as a relentless spill of addictive longing (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Jazz, beats, kaleidoscope of the city, strobe lights, smoke swirls, green woman, red woman- like the movie Taxi Driver with De Niro driving...Cyprian, your poem tells a city story of passion, streets, addictions and yes, incarceration of the mind. Great stream of consciousness free-write with stellar sinuosity, musicality, mood. "Her top is sparkling..like a-NYC building"...yes, I can see it from here, though I am far from my Bronx home. Kudos!

[Chris Shaw]

This is a wonderful read. I am pleased I didn't miss it. Loved the journey you took me on with the red haired woman. It reminds me that I feel incarcerated if I can't get out of doors. That's why I love the country, our river and my garden so much. The imagery in this write is marvellous. Thank you.

Chris