Best Peoplemen Poems
What happened to all the young men?
And the young women too? Those ones get married.
But where have all the young men gone?
Have you not heard, have you not seen?
There is a war in the land.
Which war without the sound of guns, you might ask?
Economic war- the young men are economic warriors, fighting in far off lands; that is what most
have become.
I know, but where are our brightest and best?
Funny question- in wars you lose your best men first.
So, would they ever come back or are they the lost generation?
By day he pretends
To be a janitor
Spending his time
Sitting on the corner hydrant
Enjoying nature's comforts
Fresh air
And the Sun
Watching and
Seeing everything.
The locals come to him for advice
Or to converse
In the privacy of the
Cement square
Allocated to a corner.
If a stranger asks questions
He shakes his head
Signifying he knows nothing
Just sitting there
A Gypsy
Feeling life's rhythm
Pass like a gentle upward breeze
As mothers and children
Rush by
Old men walk slowly
Women carry groceries
Delivery men stop
And nod his way.
Newspaper folded under
An iron throne
His face curls up in an evil yawn
When the street entertainment bores him
Other times he carefully peels a fruit and eats it slowly
Enjoying all its juices
Secretly relishing his role
As a troubadour
In an indifferent city.
He knows the comings and goings
Of all the tenants
Mostly young and naïve
Paying outrageous rents
For closet size apartments
And he treats them
According to his mood
For he is the King of the Fire Hydrant.
Wisdom wonders in thy wealthy wells
Oh, oasis of opportunities and obeisance
Many men got matured through thy mentorship
Edification of the enslaved is the desired ends
Novice never niggles in her noble nursery
World of wickedness and woes
Opening lives to oppression and offence
Mighty men are marred by thy members
Elites are eroded by thy errors
Novices are not for they entered thy net
Women: world of wisdom and woes
Operating with openness and onslaught
Many were martyred by thy matriarchal mask
Errors and excellence are enclosed in thy essence
Now I know, you’ve got novelty and naughtiness
This is a tale
About three men now in jail
Who fell under the spell
Of a vixen who played them well.
She plays men as the fool
Getting them to do what she wants them to
All the time remaining cool
She has an unlimited resource pool.
She entices them with sex
Putting them under her hex
Then puts them to the test
Having them put a spouse to rest.
Insurance is her gain
Without suffering any pain
To her it’s just a game
She plots again to do the same.
When once again she’s wed
And a new policy is fed
She takes a lover to her bed
And puts murder in his head.
Somehow every time
She stays clear of the crime
And on the lover drops the dime
Getting another spouse in line.
About this there is no question
Hell is her destination
I’ll put it on the level
This lady can bedevil.