The Greatest Poems Ever Written on Extraordinary Events



Central Park: Water Fight, Flight, and Tears

June 1 2001, N.Y. C., U.S.A.

(1) From the five boroughs

of N.Y.C., sixty soulless

monsters came, not knowing

each other, they all found

each other in agreement:

water all the women with ICE

and bring them to tears.

(2) Disarmed, each woman,

-fifty and counting, and

countless others - is disrobed,

robbed, sexually pawed, and

clawed. Concentric circles form

around a sole woman; a first

circle of raging participants;

a second circle of cheering and

jeering spectators; and a third

circle of indifferent police;

4500 police on duty; 900

in the park; eight calls to 911.

(3) Videotapes abound: Sexual Abuse

and Violence Against Women. Madams,

did it or did it not happen in our park;

in the heart of the BIg Apple?

Men are everywhere but no real

men are anywhere to be found:

Too afraid: IMPOTENT are our men of

the possible knife wielding soulless

monsters attacking.There are no HEROES

marching in this Puerto Rican Day Parade


(4) In childhood my father gave me

an emergency whistle. Senselessly

murdered, crossing Central Park, with

the sun at her side, the tragedy of Joan,

the beloved daughter of our distinguished

Cantor, Jacob Singer, of my synagogue,

sent chills down the spines and tears down

the cheeks of the choking congregants, whose

heart-felt ears heard the horrific news that

severed their throats. On that Sabbath prayers

went unheard and unanswered. An ICEBERG:

compassion, mercy, and justice did not exist in

that space in that place in the park. A sign must

be posted. Where does the EVIL come from?

Why does cold-blooded, soulless Cain have

the wrong right of way to destroy the body

and soul of Abel? And why is Abel unable

to protect himself from his own demise?

(5) As a young adult, a canister of mace

hung from the belt loop of a pant

pocket or from my keychain;

who knows who lurks behind

unopened doors, and the upper

east side rapist is still at large and

nightly, he is on the prowl. Flyers

of his mug hang in every doorway.

At 6 a.m., I jog around the placid

Central Park Reservoir, not knowing

whether I am getting more fit and healthy -

or am I going to have myself killed.

(6) As an adult, in full bloom, it is time,

says this breast bearing woman, to

bear arms. Nothing less than a gun will

protect my sacred soul from the soulless

monsters who have no fear of daylight

or police and no shame of ganging up

on women, children, or the elderly.

This remedy places the victimhood

on the victimizers, as they are now

the victims of their victimization.


(7) Provoked, even a dog would bite

off the hand or chew up the leg

of one of these soulless monsters

and remain on the right side of

the law. Quick on a trigger, a cat

would extend its sharpened claws,

engraving blood lit scars into each

and every face. Defenseless, women

do not strike back, unable to poke

out the eyes or kick in the groins of

any of these soulless monsters.

(8) And another concentric circle of soulless

politicians say that there are not enough

laws on the books to protect women from

domestic violence, stalkers, rapists, and

hate crimes, at home, or on the street, or

in the dark, back alley of a court room:

When all women file police reports, to

stand up to stand tall, the history books

will show that violence against women

was a national and international pastime.

(9 ) All Women, Please Hear My Cry!

Fight back, learn to pull the happy

trigger in front of the monster cocks

that by force, dare to squirt their

poisonous venom inside the wombs

that gave them life. And then justice

will be served cold, and the tears we weep

will taste bittersweet. We will visit their

graves, and weep again, ICE cold tears.

Sharon Esther Lampert

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