Best Brooklyn Poems
Brooklyn, New York is my hometown,
There's always something going down.
So many different places, Religions, and races,
Walking so fast you'll only get a glimpse of their faces.
A huge melting pot located in the County of Kings,
Where the sirens of firetrucks, ambulances, and cop cars sing.
Good Old Brooklyn, where the great times never end,
There's a Pub or a Bar within a block to make a new friend.
Concrete filled city where you had better be fast paced,
Better keep up with the hustle and bustle or find yourself misplaced!
Prospect Park has the most peaceful views,
Where there are hills of grass to take a snooze.
Greenwood Cemetery is the place to be,
To rest your head eternally.
Have some syrup mixed with shaved ice,
Our Pizza is like Heaven in a slice!
Buying new clothes or getting those new kicks?
Brooklyn can accommodate your shopping fix!
Biggest population in all of New York City,
People are Smart mouthed, sarcastic, and witty!
Here in Brooklyn you will find the fun times never cease,
Don't forget while you're here to check out the 18th Ave Feast!
There's a Bodega on every block,
Where all the crackheads seem to flock.
Graffiti covered streets and walls,
Parks filled with courts for handballs.
Coney Island is the place to be,
To ride the Cyclone and smell the Sea.
Nathan's Hot Dogs are famous for a reason,
Best part is they're open every Season!
Crimes so old and frequent it's been called "Crooklyn",
At the end of the day, it's my home, I Love Brooklyn!
White ...
frost-clad
cabled vaults -
join thoughts to sky ...
my city slumbers 'neath its cloak of snow.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Make It Five" Poetry Contest, Joseph May, Judge & Sponsor.
( Syllables = 1, 2, 3, 4, 10 - counted at HowManySyllables.com )
From Ebbett’s Field, they had to move away.
This team sought greener pastures in LA.
What they needed was a little change of scene.
The team moved into a park at Chavez Ravine.
Back in Brooklyn, the boys had a good home.
Their fans didn’t want the team to roam.
A reason to move was the advent of jet travel.
Coast to coast flights were made practical.
The appeal in Southern California didn’t seem to stick.
The boys in blue were getting a little homesick.
To their old Brooklyn fans, they felt regrets.
New Yorkers became less than satisfied with the Mets.
Here’s a little news that may astound:
The Los Angeles Dodgers are now Brooklyn-bound!
Modern sonnet
December 22, 2012
The TV shows
wars and scandal
with big faces
moving lips
running words
on every wall
while disc jockeys threaten
bad traffic and weather
through the ceiling.
I slurp my omelet’s florescent cheese
that strings from mouth to plate,
slug my coffee
and try to catch the waiter’s fast glance
before the street cleaner comes
loaded guns
spinning down the block.
I hear a buzz from my purse.
Someone I’ve never met
wants to know, “What’s up?”
My soul’s reply: “WTF?”
April 18, 2017
for Landscape and Towns Poetry Contest
The fire alarm went off at the projects,
but when they got their, no one spoke,
and there was the absence of fire and smoke,
it was just going to be a prank,
and that’s when a crime scene developed
in a project house basement, a dank,
the odor was so bad, it just stank,
it was an unfurnished place,
where an elderly black man
went missing without a trace,
and after completely opening up the basement door,
they found that missing man stretched across the floor,
he was in full rigor, and what’s more,
he was covered by a long sheet
of plastic painter’s tarp,
skin cooked in its own oil and heat,
shoe laces tied to his hands and feet,
and there death and drama would meet,
four homicide detectives and two firemen
stood over the body,
a dim basement with low light,
doing its best to fight off the night,
and they waited awhile,
it was like a nativity scene, Brooklyn style,
not in a manger,
but in a two story brick pile.
a dashing ballpark
in the year 1913
drawn to atmosphere
10/2/2015
Blessed by a baby girl; our bundle of joy
Rising as a beautiful stream, flowing in our hearts...ahoy!
Offering her back to God, so He will watch and keep,
Our precious little angel, she is one of His sheep.
Kinfolks come to visit and to show her love,
Little do they know there is nothing like Grandma's Hug.
Yet I love them all, they are my family,
No one will be left out because our God takes the lead.
Happy 1st Easter Grandma - Debra Bruce
Brooklyn was born 2/14/2015 - Ms. Debra's 1st Grandchild
Penned 4/2/2015
I remember in my college days
I was reading a poster
My English professor
came by and said
"Do you want to spend your life looking at posters? "
I was looking for a dance....
When the moon is full
I show a certain inclination
It’s way worse than PMS
A truly hairy situation
My fur’s soft as silk
I get a bit hirsute
Me and others of my ilk
Are in wolfish pursuit
Ahh – Oooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
I’m a lady lycanthrope
But I’ll rip out your throat
Ah – Oooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
I’ll fulfill your dreams
If you don’t mind a few screams
It’s true I’ll tear you up
If you dare cross me
An alpha female
Ain’t no one can boss me
Me and my weregirls
Hang out at Brighton Beach
Go moonbathing at midnight
Attack anyone within reach
Ahh – Ooooooh – Werewomen of Brooklyn
From Flatbush to Cozine
Prospect Heights to Fort Greene
Ahh – Ooooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
Yeah, we’re representin’
No intention of repentin’
I have a special someone
My friends say it’ll never work
I should stick to my own kind
And while I know I really oughta
She’s Dracula’s daughter
Her love bites are so fine!
Ahh – Oooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
I’m a lady lycanthrope
But I’ll rip out your throat
Ah – Oooooh – Werewoman of Brooklyn
I’ll fulfill your dreams
If you don’t mind a few screams
For Carol Brown's Funny Spooks Contest
We might have been cursed
being ten years apart
but you will forever and always
hold a special place in my
heart
from the moment I saw you
I knew you were the one
who I wanted to laugh with
and grow with
til I could no longer see the sun
we've had our ups
and most certainly our downs
moments of yelling and fighting
but we've always stuck around
Some might say we can't be best friends
maybe it's the age difference
but we always just laugh
and say let's do it again
For you are my best friend
through and through
No matter where life takes us
just know I'll always miss you
So let some say it's a curse
for I strangely disagree
the best thing in life to happen
was you and me
I've loved you Brooklyn
from day one
and I can't wait to have
some more sisterly fun
From watching you grow
from that sweet little child
to your terrible twos
here we are now
man how time flew
you're my best friend
my sister
my twirp
and most definitely my brat
no matter what life throws at you
I will always have your back
I can't wait to see you grow
and to achieve the best
but for now stay young
and get some rest
Just know I love you
and I'll be here til
this crazy thing called life is done
Brooklyn Bridge
I'll go there and I'll wait for him,
I'll go to Brooklyn Bridge
What hour I don't know
He'll come, he'll be there
To hold my hand
Willing to understand
He'll know me inside and out
My craziness, my weakness,
And what I'm all about
He'll take my passion to love, to give
He'll give it back to me.
But what if ?
One day I'll realize
That the Brooklyn Bridge is empty
It's only me who is waiting
It's only me, the sky and endless water.
I'll go to Brooklyn bridge tomorrow,
What hour I don't know.
July 13th, 2012
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.
A lost monopoly game
Williams fright, bridge, faith
and urban blight, Williamsburg.
Soot gray and brick red
the buildings stand
slumped, shrouded
death in the abundance
of vacant buildings.
Waste strewn sea
of asphalt, concrete, and urban dreams.
Cracks housing cigarette butts
form paper chains at the bases
of forlorn locust trees.
Sickly trees, popping from between
wrought iron barricades spiked manmade thorns
an Appleseedian affectation of defiance
toward a city of cave dwellers.
Doors, blind, windowless..no eye out or in..
unwelcoming entries..present
surfaces flat, color-chip palettes
for the graffiti “artist” latest spray painted
monstrosity
“ahhhhhhhhhh urban art!”
Two story warehouse walls writhe
their surfaces adorned
with an effluence of madness? grafetti....
Throw backs with paint tubes?
Or Jackson Pollacks with aerosol cans?
Sunday mornings only human grace;
bagel bitters, their sideburn squiggles
the only reassuring reminder of the reverent.
Their continuing presence
these Hasids with prayer shawls dangling
these monochromatic breathes of fresh air
present as the only harbor of safety, sanity,
as a lost girl child returns to her native
Brooklyn.
So I will miss
the party I
was invited to
and must stay
inside due to the
snowstorm outside
Luckily I have
a pen and paper
to write an ode or two
Escaping or perhaps enhancing
reality
I write odes of Brooklyn and far away lands
Cold outside - warm inside
The snow is falling like crazy
and piling up on the ground
world of white
outside my window
Mother Nature has not forgotten us
She brings us beauty and terror
until such time we can conquer her
She is an enemy and sometimes a fine friend
The white particles continue to fall
Went to see a minor league game
in the fabled borough of Brooklyn
Ate hot dogs at Nathan's
then headed to Keyspan park
home of the Brooklyn Cyclones
The team won in 11 innings
The crowd was filled
with characters who yelled their approval
at every good play
Pretty cheerleaders with silver pom - poms
brightened the evening
The borough of Brooklyn
is no longer home of the fabled Dodgers
But I saw the Cyclones battle hard
and celebrate their victory in grand style
There is something to be said for hot dogs
and baseball
There is also something to be said for Brooklyn
An integral part of the place millions call home
Gotham - New York City