barbershop quartet
Dick Tom Jerry Chet
singing in harmony
a gorgeous melody
old school singing
their voices ringing
dressed identically
next choice they all agree
Good ole Dick Tom Jerry Chet
Get along super well I bet
all my favorite oldies sung
I feel refreshed when they’re done
Quartet belts out familiar tunes
Old barbershop proudly flaunting village vintage vibes
Haircuts surprise at today’s prices
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
My song goes like this
time after time I read bedtime stories
back then there were no worries
simple kids go to the store
big momma did her floors
pops cut all the boys hair
at the barbershop
snowballs in the summer time
wind mills in the wind
Italian ices on 18th street
Chicago style hotdogs
jew town polishes
Greek town old town
new town uptown
oh Lincoln park zoo
dreams of being the first black
Supreme Court Justice
I sing my song only after
the blues stopped playing
on Maxwell street
Written by Mrs Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
Written by Yolanda Joy Nicholsen
May 14th 2004 right before my
sons graduation Fort Myers Florida
My Sons Graduation Day
FOND MEMORIES GROWING UP
HEARING THE BLUES
ON MAXWELL STREET
CHICAGO
Last night's storm
has left its artwork on the beach,
a postmodernist exhibition
of brown seaweed strewn in clumps
like hair on a barbershop floor,
broken seashells
and a fallen rainbow of plastics
strung out along the shore
where now an exhausted sea
licks the leftovers of a meal.
Chaos has been distilled down
to washed up artifacts
and red bottle caps, drinking straws
and spoons buried deep inside a ball
of yellow twine. I cannot make
much sense of what is on display
or glean from this haphazard art
a hint of meaning
other than in its making.
All seems uncoupled, specimens
torn from lonely souls, bits
and pieces coughed up
out of the exhaust of a huge machine
whose pistons pump and drive
a spinning wheel that has no purpose.
I pick up a plastic sandal
and wonder whose foot
it once belonged to, then put it back
and walk home
alone.
Slick it down with wax
It fits a crook
Tho' it could also be
a circus-master's look
Let it grow long, wooly and wild
It's an over-age, curly-haired child's
Squish it together into three teen males' little nubs
Presto! -- a psychotic 'student rifle club'
Eliminate its last faint trace
A dapper gent your life has just graced
A moustache is versatile, you will agree
be it 'barbershop-quartet-ish' or a deep mystery
She has a certain savoir-faire;
always clever with the cleaver.
Young leveret wants to believe her,
follows signs for trim of hare.
Too old, her title to recoup,
waits patient at the barbershop,
then takes a little off the top;
a tortoise makes delightful soup.
Distant dogs bark
Rain clouds
in the internal weather
of the yet unknown
~
Did we, like satellite moons,
on the outer orbital rims
of a blind universe
just collide?
~
She brushes my long hair,
the hair is a ghost
long fallen.
A barbershop chorus
modulates its harmonics.
~
A deaf television blares
out of his coffin.
He has changed channels;
gone are ears of the watchers.
It was day one in August- I turned eight years old
and visiting my grandparents awhile.
I called them Nonna and Nonno;
with them, I loved to stay.
My Nonna had just finished braiding my long hair;
again I said, "these braids- I truly hate!"
As we so often did, Nonno and I head straight
to take a walk and breathe in the fresh air
at a small park across the way.
But, there, we did not go.
I looked at him and he looked back with a big smile.
Into his old-time barbershop, we strolled.
Needless to say, excitement filled me uncontrolled!
My hair was soon to be a brand new style!
Like magic, braids fell down below-
new me- my eighth birthday!
At first, my Mom beheld me with an angry stare-
but, then was thankful- I indeed looked great!
December 27, 2020
Contest: A Little Memory - My Invented Form
Sponsor: Constance La France
Rhyme Pattern ABCDEF FEDCBA ABCDEF
Syllables Per Verse: 12/10/8/6/12/10
The barbershop is buzzing;
My guy is running late.
At home, my dinner’s waiting;
I am hungry, which I hate.
The traffic out the window
Zips by quickly, heading home.
I sit and watch the city breathe
And write my daily poem.
Zebras and tigers and lemurs’ long tails
Have stripes both distinctive and cool,
As well as some convicts in old-fashioned jails
Who wear black and white stripes as a rule.
The American flag and a barbershop pole
Both have candy-candy stripes white and red,
While some p.j.’s and blankets and sheets have the goal
To add stripes that will jazz up your bed.
Lots of clothing is striped – shirts and sweaters and socks
In all colors, both vibrant and plain,
For in nature or otherwise, stripiness rocks –
Sporting some, much attention you’ll gain.
I took my grandson to the barbershop today . Tonight is prom night so very special i must say.
As I sat and looked around expressionless faces was all that could be found. All about gazing into their iPhones and androids it was engough to pop a hemorrhoid.
O tempora o mores as Cicero would say is this what our world has become today.
The ability to converse has become almost remedial. One day i fear our tongues will become vestigial.
Flip flop look what’s landed on top
Straight out of the barbershop
Bald head’s a bowling ball
Leg up high for aerial
Come swift stumbling to a full stop
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on January 4, 2018 for contest UPSIDE DOWN WORLD sponsored by EVE ROPER - RANKED 3RD
Opulence is not flatulence especially in a house. And onion peel is very useful for persuading a plant to float in a prism. It is often great to watch a pea boat sail past. Rather remarkable it is. Round swirling orb. The balancing of a metre thick rug is amicable when on a trapeze. Akin to turning around on a very high roller coaster. But when travelling does one not partake in crusts of buttered lava bread. Booming bongos bringing baking beads. And so tread carefully. And lightly. When mixing physical currants,raisins and particles of icing across the skyways. Skyways are often very interesting for the patterns arriving are never exact. Good. Great isn't it? Sunrises tell of faith in a sunflower. And thrice times a weapon is twenty times a sea urchin. Basking. Knead or need? Savour that in a barm. Belligerent barbershop breaks beakers. 1 2 3 4 huckleberry fin at a disco. And a fig dancing around to the tune of a saxophone played by a fat prawn with very googly eyes, buck teeth, and a stripey hat. Hum. Xxxxx humanitarian z plagioclase p and a custard donut assortment. Z
The county seat, a place of humidity and musical beats.
After many years, I decided to revisit my hometown,
Hoping to walk down memory lanes of warm treats, To visit my oldest brother and old friends still around.
Known by many as the birthplace of the blues.
It’s where my folks purchased my first pair of shoes.
Where I first experienced talking from a phone booth.
Where I watched my first movie on the big screen;
Where I experienced my first barbershop;
Where I received my first real job;
Where I ate at my first restaurant.
Thirty years ago, I moved 2,000 miles away.
A popular street corner, fourth & Issaquena.
Cotton gins and cotton bails.
Yes, cotton was crowned king.
There was only room for one king and one throne.
And the ruler ship of queens was virtually unknown.
There were the king and the cash; and if there were queens, they would be beneath the king and his cash, and nowhere in between.
I tell you, everything and everyone bowed to king cotton, even queens.
06262015 cj
You won't believe what I went through when I went to a black man's barbershop.
He was a racist jerk and when I left, I called the cops.
He forcibly strapped me in his barber chair.
Then that punk shaved off all of my hair.
As I looked at my bald head in the mirror, he laughed at me.
He laughed and said that I deserved it because I'm a Honkey.
But he stopped laughing when the cops slapped on the cuffs.
He said that he didn't want to go to jail and I said "Tough!"
(This is a fictional poem.)
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