Here's New York for you ...

I always like to see New York in the eyes of people who visit for the first time. I almost want to ask them how they made it so far without checking this place out and how will they go on and leave it after they have lived its charm. Here’s how Manhattan goes… As you leave the borroughs, you’re almost surprised by its grandeur and beauty. Every city has its feel and its identity. It’s a recipe made of the little details and the ones not to be missed; the different architectural patterns, the street signs, people’s attitudes and the landmarks. New York’s charm is hidden behind the giant concrete monstrosities and the cold distant glass and the undependability of the bridges. As you get to know it, you start to understand. Away from the comfort of the familiarity, it wraps you up in a still cold blanket only to warm up to you. It’s a city that needs to get to know you before it can embrace you. From the distant cold faces of upper east wasps to the almost bohemian relaxed attitude of the village inhabitants. From the museum stretch, the public library and the opera house to the street vendors in Soho to the hooka joints everywhere. From the magical peaceful atmosphere of the park to the havoc of Broadway and Times square. From little Italy to China town to little Brazil to the German quarter to the Latin quarter to the Egyptian streets. A real cosmopolitan pumping life. Restless imageries and never ending changing scenery. You have to live it to realize. This is not a place that grows on you and it’s not a city that you choose. This is a city that chooses you. Just like a lover, she teases you with unpredictability and constant bickering. She wears you down till one day, a random day, she warms up to you. New York is a story that needs a lifetime to be told. New York is not as majestic as Rome, not as delicate as Paris and not as pretty as Barcelona. It is New York. Just like that. New York is poetry,
Today the park will change its colors
for you
The bridge will lay blushed
on a glittering surface
Covered in foliage
colors of your palette
The cracked branches
will broil with the rays
will Send life
drip moisture
to the veins of the earth
The green will fade
the sky pale
The lovers splinterin calm
reinstating their vows
Gobbling down
the surging golden warmth
Before the white sweeps
Today the rain will shy
For youThe concrete will knock
On your soles
Reminding you
Of your aching limbs
Fault of the gray
Fault of the glass
A lazy saxophone
Will Warm the roads
Playing as the city changes outfits
For you
From the slick
To the earthy tones
To the drunken lights
That never fade
The lady that never sleeps ...
New York is all this but my heart lives in Beirut.


At Thursday, October 12, 2006 6:07:00 AM, Blogger hashem said...

Nyc is an amazing city....everything is there, and it's really the capital of the world....
but for me, it's so overwhelming....so big....so empire-like...
i love smaller great cities...Chicago downtown, George town....nyc beats them all by having 10X extra from everything....
I'de like to sleep from time to time...
I'de like to get bored, and have nothing to do....
this seemed impossible for me in nyc...
but the people like u in nyc, made it look more friendly :)

At Thursday, October 12, 2006 7:55:00 AM, Blogger _z. said...

Beatiful sensoriel description of Metropolis Mirvat. excellent post... very Urban (sorry:P).

I'll link to it if you don't mind.

At Thursday, October 12, 2006 8:00:00 AM, Blogger Mirvat said...

hashem i know what you mean.. it's too much.. it can look very schizo when you visit but when you live there you stick to your own little world within this big world, the nice thing is that you can design this world the way you want.. but again and again and again, i will take beirut any day over nyc.. in a heartbeat

_z thanks.. urban of course :) eh link it lesh la'..

At Tuesday, October 17, 2006 12:28:00 AM, Blogger RM said...


This inspired piece reminded me of the book "The tourist gaze" by John Urry. Just to quote one passage:

"The gaze is constructed through signs, and tourism involves collections of signs. When tourists see two people kissing in Paris what they capture in the gaze is ‘timeless romantic Paris’. When a small village in England is seen, what they gaze upon is the ‘real olde England’. As Culler argues: “the tourist is interested in everything as a sign of itself … All over the world the unsung armies of semioticians, the tourists, are fanning out in search of the signs of Frenchness, typical Italian behaviour, exemplary Oriental scenes, typical American thruways, traditional English pubs” (1981:127)"


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