Poem #7 — Growing up Urban

By Bonnie Lieberman — From my Poetry Portal

I knew the sacred scent of family

Excited children Friday afternoons

Climbing steps to their apartments

Tantalized by whiffs of chicken soup

simmering on kitchen stoves.

I knew the comfort of routine.

. Cold hands on the doorknob, “We’re home!”

Welcoming the Sabbath

as Dads rushed in

Lighting candles, semi-singing in prayer

Enjoying a festive meal.

I knew the double knock and walk-in

the open-door policy of neighbors

Moms sipping coffee- light, no sugar

Admiring their children as we played

jacks, boardgames, cutouts, and pretend

Dad opens the folding tables and chairs

Jiggling coins and playing Poker.

I knew the expectation of safety.

.Our neighborhood watch.

“Strangers”? only watchful adults

Nodding to boys and girls

“Please, watch me cross the street.”

Eyes fixed till our shoes reached the pavement.

I knew the sound of unspoken trust

Tenants becoming family members

Lending and borrowing

tools, milk, eggs, sugar, bread

Dresses and coats for formal events

I relished the enchanting aroma of Christmas

of fresh-cut evergreens hauled up the staircase

of sugar cookies baking in the oven

of sliced glazed ham and stewed apples

A festive holiday dinner.

I knew the shrieks of laughter

Broom handles batting Spaulding

playing hide and go seek in alleyways.

lifting off the tops of sewers

Fishing with hangers for lost rubber balls.

I knew the comfort of belonging

Grown-ups setting up beach chairs

Placed out front in a semi-circle

Rising to grab their children’s hands

chasing the ice cream for evening treats.

An enclave of shops on the avenue

Fulfilling all of our basic needs-

Keys, food, books, stationery

Clothing, shoes, restaurants

Open well after dark.

Screenless windows overlooking still air

Perhaps a harbinger of what was to come

On a Sunday afternoon, a purse was snatched

From an open apartment -a family inside

A random, insignificant crime.

A child grabbed by the neck

forced to give away his bicycle

Baby carriages left outside

Taken in daylight

A fire set under the staircase

A liquor store hold-up

On a larger scale, a local bank

A knifing in a courtyard

forced many to rethink

That crime is not random here.

I learned the stench of addiction

Fetid, stale urine

From cold-blooded drug addicts

waiting to score

Nodding out under the staircase

I learned the state of apathy

Cigarette butts and shards of glass

From broken beer bottles

their trademarks- spray painted

on hallway walls with crown moldings

I learned the rage of malevolence

Courtyards, once adorned with greenery

Decaying from litter carelessly tossed

left unwatered and preyed upon.

Dog poop, hypodermic needles, and trash.

I learned the revulsion of inertia.

.Supers, mopping up urine with urine-soaked mops.

Hallways in darkness- fearing every step.

Wobbly banisters with sweaty grease.

Garbage spilling out of trash cans.

.A vermin’s delight.

I learned the cries of panic-

Muggings and shootings

And neighborhood gangs

Valuables stolen from apartments

Police locks and chains

I celebrated the wealth of starting afresh

Trucks with a lifetime of belongings

moving families from vicious decay

to a refreshing life of carefree strolling

within the confines of sought-after safety.

I knew the mistake of believing in forever

That everything that is- will always be

I learned the cycle of reality

The dreamland soured too quickly.

Here is astory about poetry @judedoyle

Here is another Poem By Bonnie Lieberman in the poetry portal @LewisCoaches

Author: Bonnie Lieberman is a poet, and a children’s book author. She is also a wife, mother, and grandmother.

“I grew up in an apartment building in The Bronx, NY, spending time jumping rope, playing catch, tag, hide and seek, riding my bicycle, and roller skating on the sidewalk. My friends and I loved creating our imaginary world, often pretending we were the characters in our favorite books. As a young child, I immersed myself in books about friendships. I am a licensed elementary school teacher and reading specialist passionate about helping students recognize their creativity and individuality. Although I treasured the years I taught primary school, I am most proud of most of my career working with adolescents in a children’s psychiatric hospital. I live in Bergen County, NJ, with my child therapist, husband, and dogs. I enjoy spending time with our adult children and grandchildren.

The Takeaway by Lewis Harrison “Ask Lewis”

I love writing and reading poems. Poetry bypasses my left brain intellect and connects that part of me that seeks meaning, rhythm, emotional resonance, and literary texture.

For me, the best poetry has a natural richness of meter, intonation, and rhythm.

Many readers of poetry, aren’t aware of the fact that rhythm and meter are different, though closely related. Meter brings the definitive pattern established for a verse, while rhythm is the actual sound that comes from poetic words, and phrases.

I have many friends and associates, who write wonderful poetry. Usually, they drop their creations into a Facebook post where it is likely to be noticed by less than 25 people. I have decided to create a Poetry Portal in a number of wonderful publications on Medium.com. Here I have gotten permission from my poet friends and associates to repost the writings of these gifted creators.

I have known Bonnie for over a fifty years. She is a great writer and has produced three wonderful books for children.

Here is an introduction to the Poetry Portal series of poems.

When it states written by Lewis Harrison at the bottom of this poem it refers to the Poetry Portal. This specific poem is by Bonnie Lieberman.