Shadows of New York, poetry by Francisco Bravo Cabrera at

Shadows of New York

Shadows of New York

written by: Francisco Bravo Cabrera


One day I sat and listened to the choirs of Babel.
It took me back to when I painted shadows in New York
which cast skyscrapers high above your garden.
And I wondered if an island, in the seas of nowhere,
would have served as shelter if our ship should sink.

Did a siren with her song lead you so far away from home,
and has that made you forget me?
Have you removed the old tattoos?
Did you forget the sailing trips?
Was it because Manhattan’s winds destroyed your jib?

Do you still lie when you convince the juries of your peers
that guilty men regret the fear that they imposed upon their victims in the night?
Whatever happened to those days when you would ride upon the leaves
that floated by so carelessly?
Whatever happened?

Now as I step upon the skies of all these buildings you call home,
I see the footsteps that your smile has left behind.
I don’t see those orang-utans that craved the punishment you gave,
to every soul that came to smell, to gaze, to eat.
Some came to dwell upon your castle in the clouds,
and now I have my doubts…

So now it’s me that can’t believe
that there are buildings in New York,
that cast their shadows over your green oaks, and pines.
It’s me now who can’t bear to hear
the soulful choir of the rabble,
the tearful voices that in Babel sang their praise.
And I’ll be waiting for the sun
of Indian summers in the rain,
‘cause white skin rises like the dawn,
and fears the pain…

And there’s no islands in the sea to shelter us from coming storms.
No siren’s ever graced these sidewalks where only lie forgotten drunks,
and old tattoos of sailing days, begin to slowly fade away,
And all your lies corrupted justice and all the leaves have blown away.


So it is best if we just sit and drink this gin with lemonade,
beneath the shadow of the statue of that woman on the bay.
And think we’ve reached the lonely shores of home,
where no one listens to the screams of those
that slowly die of too much love,
scratching the surface far from home,
beneath the shadows of the green trees of New York…



Relationships bring happiness in more ways than we can ever imagine, and when they do not, they bring forth wonderful poetry, songs, stories, novels, films, and theatre plays…

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