Best Common Man Poems
Every Day,
My Father got up early
And sat there, in the dark, like a mushroom,
And thought, and thought, and thought…
And... grieved...
He would not be the hero that he'd hoped,
An ordinary fellow with flat feet...
What DID he think? enveloped in the pre-dawn hush?
Perhaps he thought up all the ways that he would live the day,
And do some thing for everybody else... why? Just to pay
The
Deal He Bought.
To do something he hated, to provide…
To do something he loved, just to provide…
Perhaps he grieved for sons
He feared would fail him,
Or grieved for lonely life lived long in misery,
Or grieved for death's shadow… long, and inching closer
But, No.
I think that was his Pure time,
When stars were still alive, and shed a light
That could not yet be lost in day's grand smear of Sun,
When the silent house made the homely sounds
That only he, at that hour, heard
When the dark enfolded him, and was his blanket,
Reassuring him, that he would have the strength to face
Another day, another week, another year,
Like every Ordinary Man Does,
With slow faith,
And quick fears.
The traveler reeked of weariness,
His companion was Fatigue
Wear upon his clothes suggest
He'd come a million league.
Gaunt were eyes deep set and brown
Above his cheekbones high
His being was pure somnolence
And I heard his silent cry.
Hard roads had been his travel
The pains chiseled on his face
In lines of furrows on his brow
Permanently enlaced
Around I saw no motion there, then ...
His head began to rise
Finally he looked at me ...
Suffering in his eyes.
So quietly I attended
And with a heavy heart
I wanted so to speak to him ...
But knew not how to start
Within his labored breathing
He then began to speak
His words, when finally spoken
Were truthful and unique
His lips worked to form the words -
Then said; "My name is: Common Man,
I'm a father; I've worked hard;
' always done the best I can.
"The road's become uphill and steep with
Burdens I can't propel
I've tried to move on forward -
But, I stumbled here - and fell.
"There are others on me
Who so do depend
I must move on forward,
This mustn't be my end.
"Now I must reach out to you
'Cause before I've never failed
I'm turning now to you
'Fore on hardships I'm impaled".
A calloused hand then extended
Toward my outstretched hand
And I want to heed the call
For this Common Man.
But, Greed and Avarice have won
And assistance can't be lent -
Wall Street, you see, owns me now:
I'm Your Government.
Will you leave this life
Without a murmur or a whimper
Be cast down to the depths below
In a hallowed tomb of timber
You did not exit stage left
To the sound of thunderous applause
Or the scream of heavy bombardment
Or some tearing tiger claws
To all the men who slipped away, unnoticed
Here is ye're epitaph
We looked at the world with unblinking eyes
And all we could do was laugh
He wrote poems for the common man,
That everyone could understand.
Gave us life in rhyming works of art.
Brought smiles that could lead to tears.
Made us face our hidden fears.
Touched our souls then led us to our heart.
He painted skies with blues and grays.
With images that danced in haze,
To songs that whispered through the winds of time.
He touched the source that guides us all.
Felt life's essence, heard the call.
Filled our glass so we could sip the wine.
I clearly detect all that swirls this blue green world,
and all that toss me about like a ship on the ocean.
I hold the wheel within my hand, my ships Captain.
Keeping fixed to a horizon, slow, and steady as I go,
fighting off the pounding swells, one knot at a time.
I fight the good fight for my home, my family, and prevision.
The proletarian creed is an honest mans banner, and the only flag I fly. This voyage presents no security; nor the power of prevailing winds, to stretch out my sails. I endeavor this toil, and will not scourge my soul desire. I carefully weigh it all; willing to jettison all, keeping only one seed to root.
This morning I listened
To the simpleton and the sapient man preach
Yet as they orated to
All we who came to listen and imbibe
I was lost
There was no distinguishing
One voice from the other.
Later as I pondered
All that which was spoken
Spewed aimlessly upon us
I knew that I could not agree
With that which was said
By the simpleton.
Don't tell me I won't like it...it's not for you to decide.
Don't tell me how to raise my children...we're doin' just fine.
Don't tell me not to worry about the economy.... you're not livin' back with mom.
Don't tell me not to agonize over the Gulf spill...well, I'll stop when I see one of THEM start!
Don't tell me the "Republicans" and the "Democrats".... it's all a smokescreen anyway.
Don't tell me terrorists are up to no good...I have a sneaky feeling neither are YOU!!
Don't tell me to feed the children of the world.... let's start with our own!
Don't tell me to save the planet..... from the window of your European S.U.V.
Don't tell me I'm wrong.... who made you right?
Don't tell me you're not keeping me down....and kindly take your foot off my neck!!!!
It's 3 P.M, Sitting, staring at the reruns of Jeopardy and Seinfield
a microwave steak and some potatoes
sit gingerly on the tray, crunchy and frozen....
It's 5 P.M., a bottle of room temperature beer
cuddles itself around my hands
some potato chips spread across my lap.....
the television remote and I sit inches apart
yet, the separation feels like miles
It's 7 P.M., cold, rusty water pelts my naked flesh
the bath towels feel like steel wool
every little fiber, scratching and tearing at my skin
the soap is as tough as rubber......
It's 9 P.M, bed bugs have swarmed my mattress
scratching and biting, I smash one and a million more follow
some are flat and dry and some explode with leaking blood....
It's 11 P.M. I slip into my dungarees, there's a urine spot
in the middle of the seams.... my shovel is rusty....
the van leaks exhaust and it bleeds gasoline
It's 1 A.M., I gaze at the tombstones and they gaze back
a foggy midst looms from the hills, it's raining....
a flash of lighting strikes, bright as the sun itself
thunder rumbles the earth.....
It's 3 A.M., strolling by the red light district
a back alley blowjob, no condoms....
ten dollars for one hour, twenty for two
I only have five.....
It's 5 A.M. the sun begins to rise
beer bottles pilled at my door
saliva, drying at the seams of my mouth....
back into my bug infested abode.....
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLMVB0B1_Ts
Aaron Copeland's "Fanfare for the Common Man"
Drums play
ears listen
Visions display
eyes glisten.
The quiet burns
as freedom yearns.
Trumpeters announce
man's every ounce.
Distant thunder sounds
love should abound.
Embrace the words, the message
of life's echo, its solitary vestige.
Here we live and proudly stand
the everyday un-common man
Struggling to live well from birth
before we leave this hallowed earth.
In looking back who we are, what will we see
the good people we struggled so hard to be?
What will or should be mankind's epitaph
as God separates us from the weed and chaff?
In the end, money, prestige and power will be undone
and individual lives forgotten in the rising and setting sun.
Yet in the shadowed past something might remain
purpose and presence in release of these chains.
Play soft and loud the song to be unsung
and silence the words and lies of tongues.
We are people born once to being honest and sincere
where are we now from promises - far off or closely near?
Sound the instruments and play the song
man has made his mark loud and strong
Last farewells may quickly come
as self centered dreams succumb.
In his final and departing absence
comes return of nature's balance.
In the end
we are simply men.
Begin
Thus spoke the Premier in a solemn voice
Announced the implementation of a new plan
There are too many scams, I had no choice
It is to benefit the common man
At the stroke of midnight when the corrupt sleep
Their misdeeds in the past sixty-year span
Will be exposed when the new changes creep
It is to benefit the common man
The new fiscal policies come into force
Old high denomination notes, under a ban
Must be deposited in a bank, explaining their source
It is to benefit the common man
Only limited withdrawals from banks allowed
New notes, small currencies to be supplied in a van
In front of banks panic stricken citizens crowd
It is to benefit the common man
Small vendors, daily wage earners badly hit
Blamed the faulty implementation of the plan
With no resources to survive they admit
It is NOT to benefit the common man
The opposition parties were on their feet
To scourge the government on the plan
They used the situation to generate heat
It is NOT to benefit the common man
Fifty-five people died standing in the queue
Claimed the opposition, it was an empty van
Government bigwigs unaffected as they knew
It is NOT to benefit the common man
Nonsense! Said government sources
The process of cleansing just began
Soon there will exist no evil forces
It is to benefit the common man
Fifty-five million patiently stood in the queue
Waiting to withdraw as fast as they can
Their complaints are baseless and nothing new
It is to benefit the common man
The common man is helpless, unable to think
What will be the end of the process that began
Short of cash, in misery he’s on the brink
What else can he do, he’s born a common man!
End
zealotry yawping within un
pretentious sporty, quirky,
oddly, manly, kooky, impisly, gummy,
edgy, dorky, cocky, belly airs
to disseminate, a quick
literary flourishing brushstroke
no on nest to dog lie 'n, tie gears
(tigers) boot this chap bears,
who copped, dropped,
plopped out of college devoid of any careers,
and wandered the globe after
searching classifieds for reign leaderless deers
this buck rogers wannabe could be doe ting,
and assist sleigh get off the ground
on account of his Dumbo ears,
despite abomination, hesitation, and trepidation
to push comfort zone and exposure therapy skyward
in order to over nervousness about being in high places
plus countless other fears,
and an extreme intervention measure considered,
would be brain transplanat with that of another,
whose mental cogs and gears
and a canine like audibility acute as a hares
means to sprint at light speed if senses
being caught in the cross hairs of a gun barrel,
whose fate doomed demise almost insnares,
yet PETA type person would loathe any jeers
if any animal alluded to characterized
heading toward harm
and in reality, this heir,
who favors knitwears
with pink frilly (“I HATE BOYS”) panties,
would put his measly life on the line,
cuz aye believe every creature own right to live,
whether they dwell in damn trees or underground lairs,
oh..., or kept in stable condition
of ca horse hi mean mares
a barn strewn with hay during the day
to fend off pitch black ominous sounds
Equus ferus caballus (Hardy
as a mountain Laurel),
but quite susceptible to nightmares
thus some veteranarians strongly suggest
cloth eye elastic lined ocular shades,
but please make sure Mister Ed,
or his ilk doth newt overhears.
Form:
REVISED
When I was young I ignored age
and never thought of passing time
or viewed the products of its rage
upon this changing face of mine.
At that age blessed through life to go,
to walk high peaks close to the sun,
and think the clock was moving slow
above where the dark valleys run.
Slower the step with shortened stride
descending to the lowlands lie,
a shadowed vale of mystery
wherein there flows eternity
Each one may think they know the path,
some take the preformed, preordained
to that truth when we breathe our last,
they bow the knee and mind the same.
But man evolved to have a brain
for independent thought and choice,
his birthright without binding chain,
compose his song and give it voice.
He may not be famous or rich, no not he
Born into oppression, struggled to be free
Toiled in the fields, and factories too
With his back bent in hard labor, all day through.
Though but a footnote in his generation
Only one person, he helped build a nation
A woman at his side, they worked hand in hand
With faith in their God, they soon transformed the land.
Throughout the decades as great men would appear
Being good and bad, some brought hope, some brought fear
But the masses were the ones who’d run the show
Without them the world could not ebb and flow.
So, stop for a moment whenever you can…
and salute the power of the Common Man!
Like any common man I grope
And struggle to survive and be
Bold with Dignity and Hope
For life is hard and not so easy.
But this I say has made me braver
My hardships laid the lessons learned
Gave Wisdom, insight, character
My joy complete, sincerely earned.
Copyright Cynthia Buhain Baello
March 12, 2012
The life of a common man
Left to his own ways
He shares his life through words
From the edges of a page
Inside his story produces
A long-winded tale expressed
But fine is its story intertwined
With life’s long road impressed
This man has no longer a page
That is empty of life’s journey
Every detail is written down
And it surely feels like plenty--
Of his words are poetic in nature
As his life expressed is pure
Ups and downs, all winding roads
Left for us to explore
The common man finishes his work
The masterpiece of biographies
No matter what he did implore
He said it with all intensities
Which he only could understand
As this was his life being said
Making it open and feeling true
Wanting for it to be read
Russell Sivey