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NEW YORK BEACON – Promote Yourself


Driving along in New York City

One cold stark Saturday night,

The city alive, the tenements dark

Save a harsh fluorescent light.


What were you doing that Saturday night?

Making love, planning your life

That dark Saturday night,

That cold Saturday night.


I saw your light, that lonely light

That cold dark Saturday night.

In the distance a beacon calling us home

As we wandered through darkness that night.


The city was dark, the hope departed

That cold stark Saturday night.

But work was done and dreams were dreamed

In the shadows that journey towards light.


That time is gone, that time is past

Yet my mind recalls the sight

Of you alone amidst the sea,

That fluorescent beacon of light.


You planned, you dreamed, you lived your life,

That cold dark Saturday night.

Where are you now, what have you become?

A demon, a memory, a light.


Did you succeed, did you escape?

Did you survive your plight?

Does your beacon still shine showing the way

As we journey this lonely night


  Walt Trizna

The poem was published by Bewildering Stories in 2007.


Let me tell you its history.


Back in the mid 1970s, I was working in New York .  You already know this if you read the background for The Camera’s Eye.  I would sometimes spend weekends with a coworker and her husband.  They lived in Queens, but knew Manhattan which I often visited with them.


One cold winter night, I was sitting in the backseat while they drove.  I happened to look out the window at a landscape of tenements, high-rises that packaged the less fortunate. 


I will never forget this.  Most of the windows were dark, yet one had a glaring light that drew my attention.  I was mystified by this and thought about it for many years; then I finally wrote this poem.

Saturday night – Promote Yourself

I hope I see you Saturday night.
You’d be dressed in your best clothes,
You’d smile shyly when you see me see you,
and you’d smell the red thorn-less rose.
You wouldn’t wear heels,
‘Cause you don’t like being taller than me.
But I’m cool with it, honestly.
I feel lucky.
You’d sit across the table and quietly say
“Don’t look at me like that”
I’d keep looking, straight in your eyes,
and you’d say again “Stop that”
You’d forget about your studies,
I’d forget about work.
You’d kiss me deeply,
& I’d try to hide my smirk.
I hope I see you Saturday night.
I have thought about it a lot.
I really want to try,
This time, I think we have a shot.
Jidvish Ruparel
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