Best 1953 Poems
Lying still on the class room floor,
brown paper for a bottom sheet.
All the children were gathered round
and my outline was complete.
A cookie cutter girl was I
in bright black paten leather shoes;
with a gathered skirt, puffy blouse
of blue polka dotty hues.
Drawn silhouette, a paper doll,
not ashen as deaths cold harrow,
and I regret, my parents get
left Hiroshima's shadows.
Eight years gone the Rising Sun
was challenged in an earthy sky;
for bombs Little Boy and Fat Man fell
and two-hundred thousand people died
The Man of Steel, old Stalin
passed away in Russia this year;
the hot cold war was in full bloom
and our children hid in fear.
Beneath our desk tops we scrambled
as the shrill sirens shrieked away
the Committee of Five ruled Russia
and Khrushchev was on his way.
Dwight Ike was in the White House
as a veteran, he'd fought hard
the GI bill was now in affect
and bomb shelters filled our yards.
And little girls with ringlet curls
still made dollies on paper sheets;
while the doll shadows left by WWII
bombs blackened in Japan's streets.
*On August 6, 1945, the United States used a massive, atomic weapon against Hiroshima, Japan. This atomic bomb, the equivalent of 20,000 tons of TNT, flattened the city, killing tens of thousands of civilians. While Japan was still trying to comprehend this devastation three days later, the United States struck again, this time, on Nagasaki. Nagasaki was bombed on August 9, 1945 only three days after the bombing of Hiroshima. And we worry that other countries may develope atomic bombs???
In my travels around....
from town to town...
I found sitting next to a tree...
a red truck for sale...
that looked like _ell!
a ford, nineteen fifty-three...
So I knocked on the door...
and wasn't for sure...
if they'd sell it to me...
When they answered the door...
they wanted more...
but I gave them two-fifty, not three...
I got it running at last...
and oh! what a task!
I couldn't wait to set it free...
Yea!! it's really fast...
when I give it the gas...
ask those cops who gave tickets to me!
The body's intact...
just one ding and a whack!!
I'll paint it just wait and see!!!
Nothing Happened To Me – In 1953
Nothing significant happened to me
In nineteen hundred and fifty three.
And the reason for that is, I am sure,
I was born in nineteen hundred and fifty four.
Pacific Street
Brooklyn New York 1953
Mud-red clay bricks, hot and worn;
brown-stone blocks carved tenements formed.
Concrete sidewalks slit and cracked
where children skipped a hopscotch tack.
Hear the smack of bats to ball
of palm to rubber against towering walls;
Of jump ropes whooshing through the air
of giggling girls with bouncing hair.
Smell the pretzels salt and sweet,
the chicken soup and borsht to eat.
Bubba’s breast, the rose perfume;
seet cigarette smoke in dark hall rooms.
Taste the vanilla ice cream cone
with chocolate shell that
Dad’s brought home.
The hot red fire ball, candy treats
the egg cream soda down the street.
Do whop Ditty songsters
in August’s heat.
Bubba’s calling from window peaks.
And Tanta’s rocking babies sweet.
Brooklyn, Brooklyn in the street.
The saddest man you ever saw
Sang through his nose, his notes were raw,
His teeth were bad, his voice was flat;
Hank Williams wore a cowboy hat.
A hundred songs upon the shelf,
He loved us more than loved himself:
He sang of you, he sang of me,
To set our shackled spirits free.
His tritest titles bragged of pain,
“Your Cheatin’ Heart,” “You Win Again,”
And “Weary Blues,” “I Saw The Light,”
And “There’ll Be No Teardrops Tonight.”
He loved to drink, but he loved more
Composing melodies meant for
The words he couldn’t always spell,
But sang so well that they still sell.
A limousine, gold in the bank,
Were not enough to ease old Hank:
He cursed his loves, and feared his Lord
Would pay him back the debts he stored.
The debts were cleared on New Year’s Day,
The coroner could only say
That chloral hydrate took its toll
From Hank’s poor self-tormented soul.
You hear that yodeled freight-train whine?
It’s just a ghost, aged twenty-nine,
That left his flesh in ‘Fifty-Three,
But still he haunts Montgomery.
Hank Williams repeated the above form in nearly all his songs some of which are included
in the above verse.
Dust covered webs clinging to longevity
oily dirt floors aching to feel the sun
hanging pull string lights swing
eerie shadows a-dance on coal blackened wood
creaking boards arthritic lament
stone walls weeping in the dark
©10/10/2019
Goosebumps Poetry Contest
This was year I came into this world
so much changed in all that time
many events in society wouldn't believe
let's see if connection do rhyme
In UK Queen Elizabeth 2 was crowned
this great lady even now does reign
such a great example so very faithful
morally righteous without a stain
In the movie world beauty we saw
Russell and Monroe graced the screen
'gentlemen prefer blondes' was the one
simply stunning was to reign supreme
The wedding of the year appeared
JFK and Jackie Bouvier were matched
sadly the president's life ended
Jackie's dear hubbie from her snatched
The first colour television appeared
for just $1,175 it was on sale!
not knowing then how TV would advance
it's moved so fast overtake every snail
So 1953 was indeed my year
into this world I did appear
I maybe wasn't greatest highlight
but still here so abundantly clear
Peter Pan is off to Never-Never-land again
He has found his elusive shadow, it is on him.
Wendy is coming along with brothers Michael and John
They are traveling across the sky, Tinkerbell’s light is on
Nana their St. Bernard is horrified as they leave the nursery.
She is unfortunately tied up in the yard, as they fly past joyfully.
“You can fly, you can fly, you can fly, you can fly!” Song of warning….
“There it is, Wendy, second star to the right straight on til morning.”
Tinkerbell is Peter ‘s protective faerie companion of course.
She is as subtle as an amberjack lying across a goat-like horse
She would give up her life for Peter Pan, she revers him absolutely.
She tricks the Indians into shooting Wendy bird, jealous of her beauty.
Neverland is wonderful at first, with all kinds of unique levels of joy.
Captain Hook and his pirate crew, “a free tattoo for every boy”
Yo ho! Yo Ho! You Ho! Dancing and singing for everyone!
Join up with Captain Hook and his crew for barrels of fun!
Peter saves Darling children and orphaned Lost Boys in the best way,
The infamous crocodile with the tick tocking clock chases Cook away.
Peter heads back to Never-Never-land leaving us with a feeling
He will be back and often, possibly as a shadow on our ceiling.
Three years of 'police action,'
Conducted according to
The doctrine of 'limited war,'
In order to pursue
A policy of 'containment.'
Police action?
Containment?
Limited war?
Guess that’s why
I don’t feel like Patton
Pissing in the Rhine.
War is all hell.
Don't sugar coat it.
While Watching 1953 Titanic Movie
When from myself wanted to run away,
Does make no difference time or day;
To nothing amounted;
Never had counted;
Was called a loser some people did say.
By no one was I ever been wanted,
And to find me no one had hunted;
Cause was lost;
Had no cost;
Killed by tool being dull and blunted.
Never knew how or which way to live;
Be kind attention to others must give;
Never would try;
Fortune came by,
Had existed happily with much vive.
Jim Horn
Seventy years since he died
An artist with so much to give
A talented, troubled man
But his music still lives.
He used simple words
So easy to understand
Presented to the world fronting
His Drifting Cowboys band.
His words and music had
Such an influential role
Crossing all genres from
Country, Rock Punk and Soul
He’s been part of my life
For more than sixty years
In times of happiness
Stress, sorrow and tears.
He died far too young like
Many artists of today
Perhaps for their talent that’s
A price they have to pay.
But these many years later
His music thrive and lives on
So, perhaps in some ways
He’s never really been gone.
Seventy years since he died
A tormented soul laid to rest
But even to this day he’s still
Acclaimed one of the best.
Perhaps so long as his music
Exists in somebody’s head
Can we really say that
That person is really dead.
Charisma of a champion
Strength of a Mount Olympus deity
Superstar hero larger than life
A fanclub like no other
A base of faithful devotees
buying into the showman's dream
the illusion
the fantasy
AP: Honorable Mention 2025