Berlin Wall, of course, is the translation of the title of this post. The Wall, closed on this date in 1961 when I was preparing for my sophomore year in high school, still exists in a short section, preserved quite close to the location of Checkpoint Charlie and covered with graffiti. As a matter of fact, much of Berlin is loaded with graffiti of all kinds. The rest of the location of the wall is marked with a double row of bricks or stones with occasional markings to commemorate this 38-year division.
A poem:
BERLIN: STONE CITY
Berlin, like Paris and London, is an old city filled with monuments;
Over seven hundred seventy years of history the city has collected memories.
City divided, city united; city filled with duplication from its separation.
Unlike Paris or London, it is a city that has tried to catch up, to outdo;
A city with a double row of stones marking its former wall and with
Old neighborhoods still dividing much of the East from West.
Its monuments, said our German tour guide, are all massive, trying to
Impress, and every one is fashioned from stone. Cold hard stone.
Berlin, like Paris and London, is an old city filled with monuments;
Over seven hundred seventy years of history the city has collected memories.
City divided, city united; city filled with duplication from its separation.
Unlike Paris or London, it is a city that has tried to catch up, to outdo;
A city with a double row of stones marking its former wall and with
Old neighborhoods still dividing much of the East from West.
Its monuments, said our German tour guide, are all massive, trying to
Impress, and every one is fashioned from stone. Cold hard stone.
Our visit to Berlin was exciting, but I must say that the amount of graffiti was astounding. Another of my poems is all about this:
GRAFFITI-LADEN
Graffiti-laden cities dot the map of European Capitols, London to
Paris and across to Berlin, the home of the most active taggers
Giant walls, covered with spray paint, suggest vandals with German
Concentration and intent, spraying on and painting everything.
Suddenly I pictured a man, standing just before a wall waiting,
Perhaps, for a bus, when the graffiti sprayers come upon the wall.
I pictured fast-moving automaton industry, gliding and spraying and
Tagging and re-vandalizing a wall the authorities have long since
Given up on, until the bus arrives and the well-painted man boards,
Leaving behind his silhouette, outlined in the vandalism and filled by
Old graffiti. Someone will certainly call it Classic Graffiti and a
New form of shoot-from-the-hip art will have been invented.
Graffiti-laden cities dot the map of European Capitols, London to
Paris and across to Berlin, the home of the most active taggers
Giant walls, covered with spray paint, suggest vandals with German
Concentration and intent, spraying on and painting everything.
Suddenly I pictured a man, standing just before a wall waiting,
Perhaps, for a bus, when the graffiti sprayers come upon the wall.
I pictured fast-moving automaton industry, gliding and spraying and
Tagging and re-vandalizing a wall the authorities have long since
Given up on, until the bus arrives and the well-painted man boards,
Leaving behind his silhouette, outlined in the vandalism and filled by
Old graffiti. Someone will certainly call it Classic Graffiti and a
New form of shoot-from-the-hip art will have been invented.
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