I’m creating a Niagara Falls Poetry Map which so far has about 50 pins on it. Each pin represents a spot where there is at least one poem written about it. Each pin has one poem written out, and if there are others associated with that spot links to those poems on the website will be at the bottom of the pin.
The poetry map can be accessed anywhere on the site by clicking “Niagara Falls Poetry Map” on the menu bar. The whole of the Niagara Falls Poetry Project site, including the NFPPmap is searchable using freely available search engines also.
Postcard showing the American Falls, Luna Island, and Luna Falls (also known as the Bridal Veil Falls). Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
(Luna Island — 1904)
In drifty spray like unicorn,
She saw one splendid golden horn
Where windy crests were silky bright
And fulvent in the summer light:
Nor did she err in mind or sight:
Eltrich creatures, snowy maned
Had sought the Island unrestrained:
She did not know the beat and pound
Of her young heart within the sound
Nor that The Mystical was found. . . .
Luna Falls, and Luna Island
Seemed a faery vision, highland —
Whence to see through lucent space
A Higher realm, a different race,
Born from Youth’s Immoral Grace. . . .
She felt, she lived, the poetry,
Enmeshed in Nature’s mystery,
But when she said “They are not paired”
Her unawakened friends but stared!
They little knew, much less they cared.
Source: Evelyn M. Watson. Poems of the Niagara Frontier. New York: Dean & Company, 1929
Author’s note: The unicorn is a fabled creature said not to mate — symbol of the Quickened Mind of the church too — the manes of these (or of “horses”) may be observed in foam if one has the imagination of youth.
try to imagine
Niagara as music
there are the Falls themselves, of course
sombre and awe-inspiring
but also:
the din and shriek of Clifton Hill
“at the house of Frankenstein… kill a little time with us”
if you tell me
you didn’t hear those words?
I’ll call you a liar.
the cacophony of sights and sounds
from the Midway on a busy day
or from Casino Niagara, the adults equivalent
endless cries and bellows from these arcades
a bazaar of peoples delights, backlight by ringing, screaming machines
bellowing players, young and old
while the fireworks echo out a beat of joyful thunder
busy traffic on Queen Elizabeth’s Way
summer tourists, coming to visit
residents fleeing to Muskoka, summer tourists themselves
the harsh buzz of helicopters
over Stanley Avenue and River Road
contrasts nicely with the steady whock of golf balls on countless courses beyond number
the Boulevard’s nightclubs and bars
keep their own pulsing, sensual rhythm
the great Horseshoe is a hymn
to nature’s power and might
but Niagara itself is calliope music
a happy carnival tune
Source: The author, 2019
atlantic was born and raised in Niagara Falls, where he still resides. A selection of his work is available on Instagram
Mr. & Mrs. Harry Lewis At Table Rock Observation Platform, Horseshoe Falls In Background. Photographer unknown. Francis A. Petrie Collection. Courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
I visited Niagara Falls only once. I was sixteen
And with my family. The Customs Man
Came to know us after a few days.
But every time we crossed the bridge,
He asked us “Where were you born?”
Because he had to.
I spent much time on the Canadian side
Because it was exciting to be in another country.
I watched the trains that ran through the center of town.
Longest trains I’d ever seen, Canadian railroad.
I saw the bell tower where an unfaithful blonde
Was strangled by her husband in the movie Niagara. But the Falls? The three waterfalls,
Demonstrating the full force of water at top speed—
All I did was look at them.
My parents had been under them.
It had once been the fashion
For honeymooners to travel
To the Falls. For the maximum
In daring romance, they’d don clumsy raincoats
And clunky boots
And ride the boat Maid of the Mist
As it passed beneath the muscular shower,
Getting each marriage off
To a drenching start.
As if to say: “We are not wed
Until we’ve been soaked
And cleansed
In the spray of the Falls.”
I wonder if this magic might work in reverse.
If I were to go to Niagara now
And stand beneath the Falls
And let the water change me,
Make me ready
To receive
Love that streams
Like non-stop water.
It is not a question of where I was born
But rather a question of where I will revive.
Under the rainbow arc of water
Where love and courage have been tested
And children are conceived.
No age is too late for a honeymoon.
To stand beneath the Falls
Is an item on my list.
Lynne Bronstein is a poet, a journalist, a fiction writer, a songwriter, and a playwright. She has been published in magazines ranging from Chiron Review, Spectrum, and Lummox, to Playgirl and the newsletter of the U.S. Census Bureau. Bronstein has published five books of poetry, including her latest, Nasty Girls from Four Feathers Publishing. Her first crime story was published in 2017 in the anthology LAst Resort. Her adaptation of Shakespeare’s As You Like It was performed at two LA libraries. Her story “The Magic Candles” was performed on National Public Radio. She’s been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize and four times for the Best of the Net awards.
