This Poem was Submitted By: Jesus Manuel Lopez On Date: 2005-07-11 10:55:36 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Another Bronx Day

the bored Bronx sun  watched  with humid eye a brownish boy running  praying  crying  dying collapsing half-on half-off the curb and melting street a crowd gathered like curious buzzards around him mesmerized by the growing red stain on his shirt a football huddle blocked the withering sun and watched as life ebbed all this over  a bicycle

Copyright © July 2005 Jesus Manuel Lopez

Additional Notes:
I was a teenager when this happened. It happened very quickly. We found out later that the victim had stolen a bicycle from a girl. Her brother had been watching and waiting. This was not really that unique in neighborhood where you could be shot for your new sneakers or stabbed for staring at the wrong person.


This Poem was Critiqued By: Latorial D. Faison On Date: 2005-08-07 23:37:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.84615
Jesus, This poem cuts deep and reveals a great truth about the society that we inhabit daily. I'm so glad that you wrote this poem because you paint a brave and daunting picture for those millions of suburbs, miles and communities away from the madness. You point your finger at a social ill that is killing not only our youth, but it's destroying people daily. It's destroying values, hope and love. All we can do is pray and continue to make good choices daily. This madness has to end some place, and your poem will leave a lasting impression of this kind of violence for those who may otherwise never know it or observe it. Great job. Latorial www.latorialfaison.com


This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2005-07-18 08:22:51
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.80952
Good to see your work again, Jesus, Another Bronx Day great ironic title the bored Bronx sun I love this personification of the sun - the word "bored" is a marvelous way to indicate an apathetic audience to this tragedy watched with humid eye Not sure of "humid eye " though. I think I understand the intention of the phrase, the sun as of an eye of a hurricane - the quiet spot - with everything raging around it? and also the crying sun -But had to stop too long in the poem to consider it and it sort of got in the way of the action for me. a brownish boy running praying crying dying amazing list! however, if you use "dying" in the above line then "collapsing" in the next line seems a bit anti-climactic perhaps end the list at crying and add playing at the top? Just a suggestion. collapsing half-on half-off the curb and melting street [vivid and powerful] a crowd gather[s] to keep the tense consistant like curious buzzards around him mesmerized by the growing red stain on his shirt [yes vivid and tragic description] a football huddle blocked the withering sun [good1} and watched as life ebbed all this over a bicycle so very senseless and tragic, and you have captured it beautifully - best rachel
This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2005-07-15 23:58:38
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.92308
Hi Jesus, Our childhoods will always be etched with images and sounds, triumphs and disasters, happiness and sorrows. These are the formative years of our existence on this troubled Earth and leave their impact on our futures. Of these formative years, the teenage ones are when we are at our most vulnerable in terms of mind, body and spirit. Our defences are weaker as we stand on the threshold between adolescence and adulthood. It is then easier for life to leave its impressions ansd several of these impressions are scars left in our memories. It is no surprise then that you are easily transported back to the days when you too were a teen in a troubled neighborhood when growing up was hounded by the fear of not knowing if one would even live another day. Not only is your poem vivid and gripping in terms of your experiences in those days but also in its social relevance. We have all heard of life in the Bronx and the hardship endued by its residents. Bronx today has beome a part of American lore and social identity. 'the bored Bronx sun watched with humid eye' There is more depth in this verse than meets the eyes. It is apt that you allude to the sun as being bored. This line caries significance in the fact that life in the Bronx never seemed to get better. Violence led to violence, insecurity led to insecurity in a viscious circle of uncertainty. The sun sees all things and grows sorrowful but increasingly helpless towards this endless turmoil- 'watched with humid eye'. 'a brownish boy running praying crying dying collapsing half-on half-off the curb and melting street' You make some fine tuning in this verse by alluding to the boy's skin color. In doing this, you give your reader a more precise understanding of the bronx identity and draw him towards a particular section of american society. You thereby localise the theme and enhance the impact. The fear and heartlessness of all that this piece stands for seems to peak here with the escaping boy, literlally petrified at the danger that is about to end his life on earth. The heat generated by his fear and his will to flee seems to melt the street - if this is what you intended by using 'melting street' it is interesting and intelligent!! 'a crowd gathered like curious buzzards around him mesmerized by the growing red stain on his shirt a football huddle blocked the withering sun and watched as life ebbed all this over a bicycle' What I found most striking in this verse is the fact that this seems to be happening amidst the regular flow of life - 'the football huddle (there was a football game in progress) and the regular pedestrians on the pavements who crowd to take stock of this hunt. Isn't it haunting that eyes watch helplessly as the life of another ebbs away?. You could not have had a more powerful ending than 'a bicycle'. It all seems so simple and yet we readers know that a life was lost over it. Infact, your ending is a tight slap in the face of humanity. It's just disgusting that our material objects are som much more precious than the lives of our fellow-men. I liked the way you kept this piece so simple in terms of poetics and language and still managed to give it a very strong appeal. Thankyou for this insight into 'Another bronx day'. Judging by your title, you have given us just one instance of all the suffering, hardships and poverty in residence there. This was a powerful piece and a definite eye-opener. Take care, Duane.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Paul R Lindenmeyer On Date: 2005-07-12 14:06:51
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Jesus, just back from a trip to Newark and Jersey City to visit my nephew. Lived on the South Side of Chicago till I was 23.. The city is quick to exact quick justice, right or wrong and you have painted it with large brush strokes here. The verbiage is direct, and the picture painted vividly. The deft usage of l's and soft W"s at the conclusion sets the stage for the sharp "bicycle." ending. It is reflective of the inner city I know, and a well done piece. Peace, Paul
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2005-07-11 20:07:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.80000
Poet whether this happened today or when you were a teenager it is very sad.........stealing goes on all across this nation and around the world, people do not stop to think when they take or the conseqences of their actions and how they might affect others as well as themselves...... You have structured this very well, you have taken this young boy, tan in color, dying on the street surrounded perhaps by a gathering crowd......did they try to save his life or were they just their feeding their curiosity.......I know last week I fell in the town where I live, the sidewalk came up and kissed me as they say, people stopped, gathered, a cruiser drove by as he responded to yet another call but he placed a 911 call for my care, soon another cruiser arrived, the police spoke with me and the ambulance was on the way.........people cared, I pray they cared then too........it is sad when children take into their own hands problems that sometimes adults can't even handle properly..........the boy should not have taken the bike and the brother should not have seeked such revenge for his sister.......but it happened, your words brought us back in time to a place in the Bronx where this happended on a daily basis.........I am grateful I did not grow up in such a place........you left the wound and fatal blow to the reader for it could have been a bullet that killed this young man or a knife in stabbing through his heart or other vital organ.....the blood itself speaks loud and clear.....Thank you for posting, this is something that needs to be shared with the youth of today........God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2005-07-11 17:40:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.80000
Jesus, Hooray, another really good poem. You have a way of pulling on the ol heart strings. You know whats important and you lead us into seeing through your eyes. You don't waste words, you tell it as it was. Through childhood memories to today, the imprint impact sstayed vivid in your mind! I like your short sentences/single words pulling us into the poem. Each word felt purposfuly seleected. Very nice memorial to tortured children, as these. The crowd gathered as buzzards was vividly pictured in my mind. Good visuall. Me thinks this is a winner. Peace Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joyce P. Hale On Date: 2005-07-11 15:39:17
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.57143
How heartbreaking and stunning a write, Jesus! And even more so because it was not and is not now unique for children and innocents to die for a finite reason as a bike; and even for no discernable reasons at all! I loved the form and flow of your writing. The single-word lines seem to jab at you, and grabe your thoughts.... watched - running - praying - crying - dying - collapsing.... The lines, a crowd gathered like curious buzzards around him mesmerized by the growing red stain on his shirt..... stunning, horrifying, and picture-perfect! And the ending: all this over a bicycle What more is there to say?! You have told a sad horror story in 27 lines, and not that many more words! It tells the outward story, but not the inside story, of the grief of those who love those who die on the streets. I cannot really find fault with this write. Well-done....
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-07-11 11:33:58
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.70588
Jesus, Another Bronx Day {disturbing, very true, a sad note on humanity--well chosen} the bored Bronx sun watched with humid eye {is the humidity from your own eye} Your poem is very well crafted both verbally and in structure. The words entrap your reader taking them to a place they may not want to go but must. The imagery for me becomes almost surreal, the pictures painted here are deeply intense and vivid. It is hard to understand how our spieces can stand by an just look on, a matter of fact attitude which I abhore and want to rage against.....sometimes the apathy is so indigenous to cities everywhere, not a proud comment for us "civilized beings". What an impact this had to have made on you, it is a shame that it hasn't impacted others as much. You have authored a piece that speaks to our social concience, you have spoke out, more need to hear your words, feel the confusion, pain and disbelief of this and all incidences like this. Thank you for sharing your experience, may it make a difference. Lora
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