New Haven

SHE’S MY CITY
By Sharmont “Influence” Little, Poet Laureate, 2023 -

When I say New Haven
She sounds like safety.
Sounds like you can dock your fears.
Like this haven will hold you
Until heaven calls for you.

She sounds like Elm City
Like the exchange of carbon-dioxide and oxygen
From these free trees, are your gift to breathe.
Because poverty may choke you.

Maybe the sound of pistol waving New Haven
Is more suitable.
She knows it’s the money we’re craving,
Even living around the corner from billions.

My city, may sound like
A beautiful walk along the water.
Just don’t forget Quinnipiac,
Is no longer for the natives.

Steal, her waters run deep.

More like a collection of multifaceted narratives,
But from my perspective.
New Haven sounds like loving kinfolk.

Smells like southern food
Migrated up north.
Smells like seasoning

Like the Caribbean done dropped anchor
Jamaicans, Dominicans, and Puerto Ricans
Know they still got to fight here.

That being said,
There’s something about her!
Something about New Haven,
How she holds you tight.
Like I got you, you gonna make it!

That’s why you can’t tell me,
There’s no good news about life in my city.

Even though channel 8,
Want to show 8balls,
In the pockets of corner boys

I’ve never seen a villain in New Hall.
Just Hungry children,
That play alongside the ones,
Whom mother’s get yelled at, at YALE,
To feed them

That’s the beginning of New Haven’s creativity.
The inner most part of her heart
Pass the façade of the green.

Lives the most artistic of artist,
Basking in the soul of art.
Painting murals on corner stores.
That puts a song and dance in your spirit.

Because music schools are only in her neighborhoods.
So, she gave her ghettos PHD’s in rhythm.
There’s a captivating cadence to her movement,
Feels like a melanated progression.

Feels like the prayer from Church corner,
Are being answered.
Like community boardrooms are getting darker
But the ideas are getting brighter.

When I say New Haven
She sounds like unconditional love,
Like she stood beside my mother and raised me.

Then whispered in my ear,
Your pen and your nursing
Is going to help me heal a generation.

When I say New Haven, to me,
She sounds, tastes, and feels…… like home.