#peddlers
T'is a curious thing,
these verbal peddlers,
these tribal members,
famously well known to no one,
perhaps at best,
a kindred few, fellow-travelers.
Each a troop,
in the army of orphans,
bloodied, purple hearted,
word-wounded,
anonymous unto each other,
yet all bonded intimates,
in solitary struggle united,
yet sea-parted by the very nature
of the solitude of composition.
All poets are Cain scar-marked,
purposed for everyone to see,
a warning to the rabbled boors,
the imagination suppressors!
World:
cherish these flawed ones,
gentle these frail but gritty,
the Lord has tasked them
to be prophets in one tongue untied,
undo the strife of Babel's division.
Poets!
Be the harpooners
of the unexamined life,
with unfettered rhapsody,
comfort caress us,
exhort the loopy
to light their illusionary candles,
turn the sad eyed lowlanders
into crinkly eye-lined smilers.
With clinical observation,
dense and demanding,
make us laugh at
the comedy of our situation,
teach us our free-to-see peep show,
reveal, unseal us
with **** empathy!
For who's who in poetry
is all of us!
saviors and failures,
recorders and decoders,
night writers of the oohs and aahs
of dreams and nightmares.
*When this poet cannot,
no longer, anymore,
taste his poems upon your lips,
keep your poems within his heart,
then he breathes no more,
becoming one who was, yet still is,
because of you,*
because of poetry.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 4:53 PM UTC
He’s got natural rhythm, a girl in a red dress, a suit of clothes, a hat and a silk vest,
A set of brogues, a packet of cigarettes, a 20 dollar bill with no regrets.
He’s got a fast mouth, a slick deck of cards, chequered blues and a V8 ford;
He’s got jazz, gospel, and ragtime too: a carpet bag and a jug for *****
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik!
He’s got it, he’s got Jake,
His feet will roam from town to town.
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik, Sheik!
He’s the devil with a big black snake,
Your feet may never leave this town; not alive anyway!
For he’s on the board walk,
She’s on the board walk,
We’re on the board walk now!
He’s got mojo, see him switch and walk, a winning smile, a stick of chalk,
He’s a hot shot, man about town, his skin is sweet and his eyes are brown,
He’ll strut that rooster, beat them gums, take cash or cheque before she comes.
He’s got jazz, gospel, ragtime too, a carpet bag and a jug for *****
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik!
He’s got it, he’s got Jake,
His feet will roam from town to town,
Sheba, Sheba, Sheik, Sheik!
He’s the devil and no mistake
Your feet may never leave this town; not alive anyway!
For he’s on the board walk,
She’s on the board walk,
We’re on the board walk now!
Song Link: https://youtu.be/l5papPgYaBc
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 6:53 AM UTC