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annh Jul 11
He
recites
poetry
before sunrise.
Belts out Broadway ballads as the dawn glows.
'If a street performer makes you stop walking, you owe him a buck.'
- Anon
Star BG Jun 4
On cobble stone street
people move in haste
as street connoisseur of sound stands.

He’s the mighty busker
with instrument of choice
poised and ready.

He’s a special breed
whose stage is one
in every city and town.

He's there to share grand talent
and give one a taste
with hopes a coin gets tossed.

Buskers attire matters little
for his art is there to
benefit.

Many passerby’s move
inattentive, uncaring
stuck in their whirlwind of their life.

Many a bystander
will listen for less than a second
breezing by without proper
acknowledgement.

Oh to the street performer
I pay homage
to the one who gifts currents of air.

Oh to the side walk master
I bow as my coin gets tossed
with prayer...
That their talents get posted
and their You-tube goes viral.
inspired from a chat with Ben Noah Suri  Thanks
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
Summer rain, summer rain;
I’ll come shining through,
They say that every cloud has a silver lining,
But it’s raining down on you.
You’ve forgot your coat and umbrella
and now you’re wet right through!
I’ll come shining through
~ this summer rain.

You can hop from tree to tree;
Use a bag, or a magazine,
Take shelter in a coffee shop
and soak up the caffeine!
The streets are ner deserted;
There’s not a soul to be seen,
Summer rain, summer rain,
I’ll come shining through!

There are clouds up in the sky,
Whistling winds are blowing by
There are rain drops big and round
What a sight, oh me oh migh!
Summer rain, summer rain,
I’ll come shining through,
Yes I’ll come shining through
This summer rain.

Summer rain, summer rain,
I’ll come shining through,
They say that every cloud has a silver lining,
But it’s raining down on you.
You’ve forgot your coat and umbrella,
And now you’re wet right through!
I’ll come shining through,
this summer rain.

I’ll come shining through ~ this summer rain.
Summer rain, Summer rain, Summer rain.


Youtube link to song
https://youtu.be/GDk_JtCQL2E
Raining whilst busking in the street!

Youtube link to song
https://youtu.be/GDk_JtCQL2E
Joe Bradley Mar 2015
His voice of crackling static
is known from round the corner.
It's raw from shouting news reports and
the music of an empty pocket
to a world, only half listening.

A toiling madness of chord and thread -
frayed, plucked fabric, strings
hanging from cuffs. This plaid ragdoll and
his bird **** stained guitar case are
collecting change like a magpie

His incompetent lips are their own shower
flecking the pavement. What music gathers
in the whited joins of his mouth is urban  
desperation, but their grubbiness suggests
you could still plant potatoes in his fingernails.

Twitching and lined, his visage isn't as old as his art.
The jarring strum and lacquered voice  
serve to remind us, that the tongue
is the only muscle in the human body
stronger than the heart.
Ruthie Jun 2014
Town was packed.
But today was a good day.
I noticed you as you put your guitar down from a long hard days work.
We said hello.
I have no idea who you are but something about you makes me feel a certain kind of way.
We start talking, I asked when you were playing next.
You said in 5 minutes.
Great.
Wait.
Where?
Oh another street in Dublin?
Awesome, I'll come.
We walked and talked a bit about ourselves.
You were from Australia.
Halfway over the other side of the world.
We sat in that old coffee shop/pub.
Wait weren't you supposed to be playing again?
We talked for almost two hours.
Then we went our separate ways.
You go back to tour on Monday.
But you invite me to see you again on Sunday....
I don't know much..
But I know I will be writing about you for quite some time..
I really liked talking with you......

— The End —