Best Market Poems

In an endless night,
time is my nemesis.

In the realms of sleepwalking nightmares,
where trumpets blow an eerie tune,
I can see the Grim Reaper,
perched upon my tomb.

I search for the sandman
in the domain of dreams.
Where hope is an alchemy of potions,
igniting stars to cremate calamity.

In the marketplace...

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If you wait until the sun goes down,
a thousand suns will rise.
Artificial, bright, igniting
tangled clouds in smoggy skies,
and flooding dingy streets
with fluorescent streams of light
that carry waves of people,
cresting, crashing, clashing 
across mismatched sidewalks.
They speak in foreign tongues
that lick like wild flames
and burn with glowing...

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When I am afraid 
I close my eyes 
I hear a sweet symphony 
A thousand music tunes 
All at once coming through
Young girl in the market 
Yes, that's me, all alone 
 Eyes all full of mystery 
As I sing away the loneliness 
They say...

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“You two melons are crowding me in a bad way.”

“Are you kidding, Bermuda? You must be gay,
‘cause all the potato heads think we look fly!
Yeah, see them? They’re giving us melons the eye!”

“Well, you’re squeezing me in; I’m a delicate guy!”

“Good grief, Mr. Onion, you’re...

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At the flower market
I found spice, holy water,
cobblestoned obsidian dreams,
but no flowers.

The blustery Tuscany day
showed me its underlying graffiti,
incantations of poetica esoterica, 
and yet another way 
to excavate the mystery.

Nostalgic Roman nights, 
Spanish palabras, Sicilian incantations,
idyllic panoramas; promises 
enough to purchase the moon.

Such a foolish...

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I design cards for eighteenth parties,
And every other birthday.
And I design cards for condolences,
For folks who’ve passed away.

My designs can be happy, sad or plain,
Whatever you really want.
And I can make them easy to read,
In an “easy to read” sort of font.

Then it occurred to...

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Sue lurks in the shadows of the night 
She stands on the street corner in the red light area of town
Her body is silhouetted by street light flickering through the naked trees
Wrecked by years of drug abuse she craves her next fix
Skin-tight clothing outlines every...

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I am watching a flipper show 
Where pairs of two 
Run around 
A Flea market 
Making deals 
Competing with the other pair 

The entire show Intrigues me 
Delights me 
Excites me 

I want power tools 
And goggles now 
Which is ridiculous 
When you realize I...

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Rogue Market


Rogue market
hidden in plain sight
tilted sign 
a crooked arrow irony
childhood’s
bittersweet
Lemonade.

©4/8/2018

submitted to – A Hidden Market – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Julia Ward...

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The German Christmas market was in town 
Stalls emptying fast and looking quite bare
Last minute shopping before it closed down   
T'was Christmas eve seems everyone was there .
               ...

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The world of money is still there
        Beating its way 
into one's  brains
Poetry is fluff
    omnipresent dollar
But still.....
A few lines can touch 
the Jewish Soul, the Christian soul,
the atheist and agnostic soul
So if you...

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They are not from Chiang Mai,
they are a tribal people
who speak a hill language.
They ride through the night
on bicycles to settle at dawn
beside the Ping River.

Girls' unroll rattan mats
squat beside straw hats brimful
with the tang of burgundy chilies
They have vegetables
grown in lime green waters,
parched salty...

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With takeovers bankers are set
But Capital One's is a threat
Owning Discover
As surrogate mother
Makes Visa and Mastercard sweat...

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Saša Milivojev - TO THE DREAM MARKET


I throw memories down the well
And, leaving, I hear the echo of tears
I do not want to have my face
Treading on my own verse
Tied in knots
Like a frightened doe
I run across the glass bridge
To the old place
Where Light and...

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The noise broils over in the heat
And spread out like wares along the street
The haze of crowd, the jungled feet
Fresh scent of soil and the aroma sweet
I see the bright cloths, and the fashion shows
The haggling voices and their temptations
The big Trelawny yams that twin...

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