South Bronx Cyber Mural On The Colors Of Genius
Eye Have A Dream For The City That Never Sleeps
By Danny Aponte for The Reading Rainbow on PBS
LOL
Now Playing Sweet Deposition By The Temper Trap
Monday, December 15, 2014
Saturday, December 13, 2014
You love to see new ideas on stealing heART
Once upon a time, my community was like science fiction in
The Illustrated Man by Ray Bradbury who also wrote Fahrenheit 451. I carried
Anne Frank in my arms as the shadows of burnt-out buildings and bullies fell
over us in The South Bronx of America.
After following a path on paper white snow, I pulled down my
hood before entering my Fortress of Solitude where I discovered A Winkle In
Time. One millennium later, after Waiting For Super Man at our library, I flew
ideas to make true a dream for my 6th grade English teacher who believed one
day I would write The Great American Novel.
Write what you know, she encouraged the boy with the 11th
grade reading level.
I know, like Thomas Jefferson, I can’t live without my
books.
I know a writer wrote
if everyone knew how to write on his or her life everyone would have a great
story. I know The Founding Father who
wrote We, The People. I know he resides in a church nearby the fireflies of
Saint Mary’s Park, where I was The Lone Ranger in The Space Age. I know the
next generation: a super schoolgirl who carried stories of our lives in her
arms with a smile that left the borders of her bright little face.
The End of this very short story begins the tall future of
children.
Again.
The money would be used to help finish a homework assignment
on creating a tour book for our hometown that draws the spirit of we, the
people at The Hunt’s Point Public Library. Imagine Supreme Court Justice Sonia
Sotomayor, Colin Powell, Al Pacino and others who grew up in The South Bronx
reading the books of their lives to an audience.
In other words, book them Dano. Of course, it’s unavoidable.
Books go straight to DVD.
Here comes Hollywood.
LOL
Saturday, November 29, 2014
If everyone on Face Book was to pucker up in a kiss ad for a beautiful planet we can be like a song. We can be Heroes just for one day and forever and ever.
If everyone on Face Book was to pucker up in a kiss ad for a
beautiful planet we can be like a song. We can be Heroes just for one day and
forever and ever.
Monday, November 17, 2014
See book. Read movie. LOL
In The South Bronx, when I was a boy who wanted to earn an
NYPD gold shield, I followed footprints in snow that lead me to the home of
Where The Wild Things Are.
Write what you know, Danny, advised Ms Raesade, beloved 6th
grade English teacher who believed I would write The Great American Novel. I
know The Hunt’s Point Public Library was my Fortress of Solitude and The Bat
Cave to boot up ideas.
In spite of having Patience and Fortitude, I got tired of
waiting for Super Man.
I wanted to go where no one has ever gone before. I wanted to be a science officer to make
computers talk. I found a book called From Sand Tables To Electronic Brains.
I recall this because of a photographic memory in childhood
enhanced by gifted ones.
Imagination is more important than knowledge, Albert
Einstein wrote to me in this mansion of geniuses that made me feel like Richie
Rich in The South Bronx
I have a dream for The City That Never Sleeps.
I dreamt of Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor reading
from her book from her hometown libraries to inspire future dreamers with
homework on Earth as I figured how to do my homework on creating a tour book to
draw tourists to The South Bronx. To quote Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day
O’Connor, no one gets a dream done alone.
That applies to a former South Bronx resident who wrote We,
The People in 1776.
I’ve been around like The Man In Black sang. I was a US
Marshal or Lone Ranger
Reckon its high noon to serve this here NYPL warrant for
arrested development.
Book them, Dano. Poetic Justice writes again on sunset of
centuries and sunrise
Once upon a time at The Public Library, the boy I was found
A Winkle In Time.
Know the past. Just never repeat bad things in history
again. Find the future.
This has been a mural of words for dreams and other planes
of existence.
I died in The South Bronx of America and went to Google
Heaven
Thanks for sharpening super visions, NYPL.
It’s my time to make you see.
See book. Read movie
Hope sequel’s better
LOL
First Cell Contact With The Better Aliens of Human
Imagination by Dan Aponte
Saturday, November 15, 2014
See Book, Read Movie
On Veteran’s Day, I heard “What the F you crying about?” I
looked through a peephole and saw a black man shout at his 4-year son who was
trying to climb up the stairs.
Then came the smell of pot in the hallways.
Instead of teaching his kids how to read, do math and draw,
he’s getting high while his five kids run back and forth for days and nights so
loud a stampede I can’t concentrate on watching 12 Years A Slave. I’m watching another crop of criminals to be
harvested by illegal chokeholds and bullets. If You See Something Say Something
A Mind Is A Terrible
Thing To Waste
Welfare took them out of plantation of poverty and into
building across funeral home and across river is Riker’s Island Prison. At night I stare out the window and Win98 to
write on Death’s Row with Jesus and Apostles behind me on kitchen clock.
Every night I run out of time and I would be so blessed to
get a last supper.
Stress is a killer
and here comes Black Friday and men without jobs.
Welcome to the belly of The South Bronx of America
I’m just a hobo with a library card. What can I do?
I’ll think of something to change the world.
First Cell Contact With The Better Aliens Of Our Human
Nature by D. Angel Aponte
Monday, November 10, 2014
I have to pay rent to prevent homelessness by selling story
on using movie logic to solve homework assignment on making tour book to draw
tourists to The South Bronx.
Good-bye South Bronx.
Hello South of France.
Life on Face Book is better than the next Great American
Novel of the 21-Century.
Fairy tales can come true if you’re young at heart, Old Blue
Eyes sang in my brain.
And here’s my mind’s MRI to prove I died and went to Google
Heaven.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Bronx Bucket List: Get Oscar For My Own Misery!
I spat out blood violently in front of two cops.
They called an ambulance: ETA in 9 minutes. Officer Gonzales
of the 41 Precinct and FDNY medics asked the same question: Have I been to West
Africa lately?
I wish.
I’ll do anything to get out of The South Bronx.
I always wanted to travel Earth and beyond.
Oxygen mask on as sirens wailed in rain.
Oh my! How exciting! An adventure!
I spent 10 hours on a bed at Lincoln Hospital.
I saw young and old crowded in ER. They all were like
children afraid of the dark.
Health care workers of different nationalities talked about
movies as they surrounded me. A medic strapped on gloves with a snap and a
smile. You remind me of Dexter, I said. Please don’t kill me. He laughed. Blood
work came back fine. No Ebola. No HIV. No Tuberculosis. X-rays came back fine.
No Cancer. My heart bled in gratitude.
I thanked every professional for his or her service.
I thanked God like a little boy saved from lions.
Ulcer, blood pressure too high and a violent reaction to Advil
were the reasons I was spitting blood like an actor screaming in agony in Alien
and gory sequels galore.
I humbly ate two hamburgers at Mickey D. They tasted so good
without extra salt.
I drank pineapple juice. I walked home past a park under
stars and saw new country.
I saw The Wonder Years go on forever for future generations.
Truthfully, I’m dying for salty fried chicken wings.
And hot sauce hotter than Hell.
It would taste so sweet.
It would be Heaven.
Friday, November 7, 2014
Homer
I spat out blood violently in front of two cops.
They called an ambulance: ETA in 9 minutes. Officer Gonzales
of the 41 Precinct and FDNY medics asked the same question: Have I been to West
Africa lately?
I wish.
I’ll do anything to get out of The South Bronx.
I always wanted to travel Earth and beyond.
Oxygen mask on as sirens wailed in rain.
Oh my! How exciting! An adventure!
I spent 10 hours on a bed at Lincoln Hospital.
I saw young and old crowded in ER. They all were like
children afraid of the dark.
Health care workers of different nationalities talked about
movies as they surrounded me. A medic strapped on gloves with a snap and a
smile. You remind me of Dexter, I said. Please don’t kill me. He laughed. Blood
work came back fine. No Ebola. No HIV. No Tuberculosis. X-rays came back fine.
No Cancer. My heart bled in gratitude.
I thanked every professional for his or her service.
I thanked God like a little boy saved from lions.
Ulcer, blood pressure too high and a violent reaction to Advil
were the reasons I was spitting blood like an actor screaming in agony in Alien
and gory sequels galore.
I humbly ate two hamburgers at Mickey D. They tasted so good
without extra salt.
I drank pineapple juice. I walked home past a park under
stars and saw new country.
I saw The Wonder Years go on forever for future generations.
Truthfully, I’m dying for salty fried chicken wings.
And hot sauce hotter than Hell.
It would taste so sweet.
It would be Heaven.
Monday, October 27, 2014
The
African-American kids upstairs began their usual stampede at 6 AM on
10/27/14.
On Father’s Day,
I woke up to find myself in the kitchen walking on water like Jesus on
Television. They left the faucet running again. Again, I empty pots and wait for
the Dominican super to show up to knock and bang on the door upstairs until it
reveals a bleary-eyed black woman Welfare had taken out of homeless shelter
with her kids and into building my disabled mother has lived in since Watergate
Scandal of the 1970s.
Calmly and with
consideration to the black woman’s problems, I asked again for a reduction on
noise pollution. No apology was offered as she closed the door with her last
words: I forgot to close the faucet.
The super once
caught her husband smoke marijuana in the hallway of graffiti that grew like
toxic mold on bathroom walls. He disrespected the super as he did me when I
talked to his blood-shot eyes about respecting my mother’s rights as a tenant.
I feared if I made a call to 311 he might retaliate by hurting or killing my
mother.
No matter how
patiently I addressed a jobless black man he kept pulling the pin on the
grenade of confrontation to make himself feel like a man with power.
Swastikas cannot
be made without black and white.
Again, I pleaded
for mercy on behalf of my mother who has several appointments at Lincoln
Hospital after an examination for breast Cancer. I saw in his eyes Apartheid
appear like a possible case
of Ebola in a
5-year old in The Bronx.
What happens to his children in this poorly designed
anti-poverty program?
Do the kids become another crop of criminals to be harvested
by bullets and illegal chokeholds? Across the river from this homeless shelter
of a neighborhood is the halfway house called Riker’s Island Prison. Across
this homeless shelter is a funeral home. There is higher education up the block
called The Public Library.
Read three ways to leave The City of Illegal Guns and Roses.
I know the road to hell is paved with many good intentions
but it would be a good try to get the mayor’s wife to give counseling to that
family in The South Bronx of America.
This would be Pre-K homework far from finished
Welcome to The United Selfies of Admerica
Art Design & Text By Daniel Angel Aponte
Friday, October 24, 2014
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
I seriously need a government grant to waste Time/Space!!!
When I was a child who wandered in the shadows of burnt out
buildings in The South Bronx, I wanted to be The Doctor, last of the Time
Lords, thanks to a ‘cultural wasteland’ called Television, home to Death Valley
Days starring a cowboy who rode into our wasteland of a town in his real life
role as President of The United States of America.
Just say no, urged The First Lady on TV, my first drug of
choice.
I tuned in, dropped out and went where no man one has ever…
To Be Continued
Art Design & Text By Daniel Angel Aponte
Copyrighted 2014
Friday, October 17, 2014
You read me?
I died and went to Google Heaven at The Public Library
And now to get revenge by dreaming well
Your chat transcript with a librarian at New York Public Library - ASK NYPL
Date: 16:11 2014/09/22
Question ID: 9857879
Chat Transcript: I am still waiting to recieve feedback to an idea I call Reading With The Stars. It's on getting celebrities that grew up in The South Bronx like Sonia Sotomayor, Al Pacino and others to read from their life stories at The Hunt's Point Public Library. Thank you for reading this part of my life on helping others to achieve their American Dreams
[Librarian 16:11:24]: Librarian 'Tony' has joined the session.
[Librarian 16:11:33]: Hi!<br>
Welcome to the AskNYPL Chat Service. I'm currently helping another patron at the moment. I'll be with you as soon as we finish.
< br><br>
In the meantime, please type in your question. I'll be with you shortly.
< br>
Thank you for your patience.
< br><br>
(At the end of our conversation, if the e-mail address you provided is correct, you will receive a complete transcript of this chat session in your in-box.)
[daniel angel aponte 16:16:08]: Patron is no longer connected.
[Librarian 17:33:47]: In this case, please feel free to contact Kelly Yim at kellyyim@nypl.org for any further assistance.
[Librarian 17:34:48]: Thank you for waiting, and thank you for using Ask NYPL's Chat Service. Have a nice evening! All the best! Bye now.
[Librarian 17:34:53]: Librarian ended chat session.
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Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Howdy
No more Waiting For Super Man.
How To Pitch Nightmares To DreamWorks
By Danny Aponte of P.S 161
Copyrighted by me in 2014!
So why is China LOL?
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