Best Rockefeller Poems
I am tired of counting the red dwarf stars in the Milky Way.
I am tired of counting the 7 years of grain in Pharaoh's silos.
I am tired of counting the steps to the sacrificial altar of the Chichén Itzá pyramid.
I am tired of counting the people swallowed by the Antioch earthquakes of 115 & 526.
I am tired of counting the victims of the 1737 & 1839 India cyclones.
I am tired of counting the departed from the Influenza Epidemic of 1918.
I am tired of counting the death toll of the 1931 China floods.
I am tired of counting the total military and civilian casualties of WWI and WWII.
I am tired of counting the number of Jews killed at Auschwitz, Belzec and Majdanek.
I am tired of counting the drowned in the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami.
I am tired of counting the biomass of plankton in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.
I am tired of counting the needles on the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center
I am tired of counting the cracked and dirty windows at Riker's Island prison.
I am tired of counting down the clock until the our Sun becomes a red giant and dies.
God help me! I can't sleep. I can't sleep. I can't sleep...
I'm immortal. I have OCD. I'm so tired of counting sheep.
She wore a tiffany hat with a bow and six big plumes of red and white,
it had an ultra wide asymmetrical brim that rolled up to one side.
When it came to dames like this I believe God ran out of humble stock !
She wore pompadour shoes, like she had nothing to lose
and rouge so red it made the cardinals have fainting spells !
Her hair was soaked in henna, elderberry & radish extract,
and I believe her dress was stitched in the boudoir of coco-channel!
She was a nouveau riche reveling in her new found fame
and everything in her life was right as rain until that fatal day,
when her hat expanded 10 x its size, growing past her shoulders
like a great big beast, of leavened yeast!
Her hat pins strained from the strain of those great big plumes,
moaning and groaning from her lithe walk and all that perfume !
Then First World War arrived and suddenly it was unpatriotic
to be concerned with one's appearance !
She was no Rockefeller and didn't own a rupee nor a heller,
so she became a steadfast loyal dame, like dear old Helen Keller .
What happened to that big old hat, with the plumes of red and white ?
She stewed it, brewed it, boiled it down then poured it in a flask,
and yes she drank it slowly,... just in case you thought to ask !
March 30/ 2025
that first breath after hearing Beethoven
inhaling life from him
John’s many gifts to me
feeling his tears at La Boheme
hearing him laugh at Carmen
sharing the shock of a trembling “Equus”* audience
Broadway, Times Square, Rockefeller Center
hours of sharing our innermost secrets
strolling through Central Park
John, you opened my eyes, my world
but failed to teach me one thing...
how to live “Without You”*
*"Equus" is a play by Peter Shaffer
*"Without You" by Nilsson was our song
NEW YORK
Scene One, let’s shoot act one, action now.
I dream of everlasting diamond lights, in camera action now.
In the land of ‘New York, sky building light city.
To catch a self discovery, subway underground railway train.
Down one ‘Manhattan line, pass way.
To try and live, in a night life city.
That never sleeps, in any shape or light formation.
I am the twenty four hour, night watch light.
Someone calls out loud, for me now.
Down a green path, of ‘Central Park.
I see the majestic ‘Plaza hotel.
That is in the grand, upper way class, of life living.
Inside one posh, sort of a way.
I love ‘Chicago, within the business life.
‘New York, New York, I just want to sit down.
In a resting place, of one magnificent, play like sketch.
Come on, I am living in the vast magical city, called ‘New York.
I have arrived, in the ‘United States nation.
Entering the experience, of my ‘New York, grand stand, NBA basketball life.
What a town, I can’t believe.
The ‘New York lifestyle, is now bedded inside my whole mind, of thinking.
It’s a draw card, ‘American great life for many.
I don’t want to only, fail now.
Let me see, my connected light.
Of a ‘New York, living fantastic way.
Deep within one large, hot soup pot.
Of sheer beauty, ‘New York living.
So can I be famous, in the heart, of this New York race.
Cultured variety growing, fast moving place.
My ‘New York gift, has one open bright space.
A shinning light, of wonder and might.
Inside this wonderful, ‘New York colored town.
Of my own private, Time Square downtown, magic night.
So I live, for one crazy wild, New York chase.
NBC Today, lined up, in the film star panel.
At Rockefeller plaza, in morning daylight.
New York is a state, made of dream like wealth.
I am the winged ‘New York angel, calling out.
Dressed in one pure light, of the color white.
I am living, for the vast, time moment space.
Of my ‘New York, memory life.
The secret is now, breaking right out.
The Big Easy
Brash lady of the south, home of jazz and blues,
party town USA, brawling port of the nation,
melting pot of cultures, the city of Hope,
and Queen of the Nile of the Americas....
.....She's the Big Easy..
Yes, I know there is Bourbon Street where you rub shoulders with pimps,
prostitutes, drunks and movie queens,
And, you stand shoulder to shoulder and jostled and fight for the cheap beads
thrown from a Mardi Gras float,
Walk the narrow, crowded streets and listen to the mournful moan of the blues, and
the rhythm of jazz being discovered as it drifts through the narrow alley ways,
Feel the sweat and the clamor of the docks, with the exports
of the nation being loaded on the mammoth
ships for all the world.
Sip the strong coffee and wash down the beignets, savor the dripping poboys and
famous oysters Rockefeller, and smell the aromas of the seafood preparer of the
nation.
She is the queen city of the Nile of the Americas - the
mighty Missisip'
- don't apologize for her being
a lady of the streets,
the birth place of jazz
the queen city of the mighty river of the nation
good food,
fun time
fast people....
She's the city that never sleeps,
The play town and work place of the nation,
....A lady like no other lady.....
.....She's the Big Easy.
While gazing down from the Rockefeller Tower
My girlfriend and I soon began to glower
While surveying Central Park we then thought
How much could we get for it if we bought
Trying to figure that out took over an hour
New York, New York, the road in the fork
of the events, the places and folks who've buttered the pork
Like Rockefeller, Moynihan and Andrew Cuomo
Frank Sinatra, Louie Armstrong, John Lenon and Yoko Ono
Lenny Bernstein and Lenny Bruce
Cookie Monster, Rocky and Bullwinkle Moose
There's Radio City, Central Park and Carnegie Hall
Coney Island, Yankee Stadium -- Let's Play Ball!
The Brooklyn Bridge on the Hudson River
Lower East Side and the Village, for swingin' livers
Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle and White Ford
Don't forget Casey Stengel and Yogi Berra -- Oh, my Lord!
Marilyn Monroe, Madonna and Phyllis Diller in curlers
Archie Bunker, the Meathead, Anne Meara and Jerry Stiller
Stooge-mania, West Side Story and Annie Hall
Kramden, Norton and the Honeymooners
You've seen or heard of 'em all
There's Madison Square Garden and the NY Philharmonic
The Times and Wall Street Journal -- news junkies tonics
Malcolm X, Dr. King, and Abe Saperstein
Julius Erving / Dr. J with a case of Afro-sheen
Baldies like Kojac and Yul Brynner, the King of Siam
Sam I Am, Son of Sam, Green Eggs and Ham
Harlem Globetrotters, the Apollo, Kareem Abdul Jabbar
Jay Leno, Ed McMahon and Johnny Carson, the great Jack Paar
There's Broadway, Times Square, Soho and Fifth Avenue
Isaac Stern, Pavoratti, Willie Nelson and Ray Charles singin' the blues ...
Make a list from the Statue of Liberty all the way up to Mars
~ You still might leave out a legacy of constellations and stars!
S€CRET $OCIETIES
There it was on the internet for the world to see
“the secrets of the masons and secret societies.”
There were names and there were dates and details by the score
till the secret of their secrets weren’t secret anymore.
With exposés and videos getting multimillion hits
it was a tell-all, underground, middle finger pointing blitz.
It was Rothschild in the cross hairs, with that cover blown,
stripped of all the subterfuge in a youtube fire zone.
It was fortress Rockefeller, in a state of compromise
from an info-insurrection, revolution on the rise!
We know it’s the illuminate, Bilderburgers and all those
who run the worlds economies causing all the woes.
You control the central banks and the flow of fiat cash,
creating all the global debt and every economic crash.
It’s you who finance all the wars, and fund the leaders who
would enslave their populations for a buck or two.
It’s your endless stream of front men exploding in the news
while you lurk behind the scenes igniting every fuse.
And with your greedy fingers in everybody’s pies,
you drive the world to poverty and create a global sty.
It’s known your claim is that you are kings of ancient royal birth
and somehow that entitles you, to dominion over earth.
Though you have the power, with hidden technology,
to remedy all the ills of the worlds ecology,
you choose to keep it buried, without the least remorse,
and leave the earth to fester in the wake of your course.
You could make this world an Eden, so pure and so clean,
but like the thoughts within their mind, you make it a latrine.
it’s time to end your bloodlines, it’s time to break the chain,
it’s time to free this dying world from your terror reign.
And though you have vast arsenals, spies and sordid plots
the truth is much more powerful than anything you’ve got.
And it is just a little mouse, an arrow and screen
that will put an end to you and all of your regime.
People from all over come to see the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.
Men, women, children alike – all say it’s a most beautiful sight.
Every year they search for the tallest Christmas tree
And decorate it so carefully.
There is nothing left to chance – there must be bulbs on every branch.
This tree is a symbol of our right to be free Put up each year for the world to see.
It has become symbolic to us like the Thanksgiving Day parade
New years on Times Square which are the things
That AMERICA shares.
Every dream that you perceive – in NEW YORK CITY can be achieved.
There are centers of every kind- where dreams become alive
The diamond center, the garment center, the art center too
And that’s just to name a few.
The United Nations was built on these grounds
Where every language can be found.
NEW YORK CITY where I was born and raised
I give you thanks and I give you praise. © LRams
I left out riding my bike down
first street over looking the
wildly calm river artist's lined
bicentennial entrance way where
Thomas Edison Rockefeller
and Ford feasted on clams
my mind wandered about
the timing of the dem lights to
brighten the garden lofts above
the streets soft jazz from
Billie holiday rang out down
old Hendry street my heart strings
mingled with the Sunday drivers
passing by after mass fondly
trying to pick me up leaving
the shops it was noon it was
damp the sun peeked in behind
the gulf today a few children
skipped by carrying balloons
while the fishermen tossed nets
near the shore sand collected
beneath my toes as two boats
docked this was home my life
an yet the Caribbean whispered
to me waves slammed against
the stone walls I felt a few sprinkles
I quickly dashed into the book store
on the corner while the aroma of fresh
French bread gather all of my senses
luring me to a sit down with brunch
tiny raisin bagels diced mangos
inside a vintage wine glass
one thousand sparrows flew
backwards within the breeze
as I rest on the steps of St Francis
Mister,
can you help a poor rich fella out
Right now, I’m kinda down on my luck,
and that sucks
Will you help me out, please ...
can you spare a couple million bucks
That’ll be just enough to see me through,
get me on my feet and off my back
It’s hard being a penthouse top cat
living like a cellar bottom-feeding rat
My refined, high cultured ways is under cash flow attack,
I just need to re-up my portfolio mojo
with a small injection of a little greenback smack
Think you might can help me out of a fix like that
I’m really jones-ing to get my wealthy high-life back
It’s tough sledding as of now,
living in some rinky-dink,
three-star downtown Hilton hotel
My current low income life is back taxes living hell
A most unbearable situation
for me a Manhattan uptown swell
I’m business royalty ... got Rockefeller princely pedigree,
but now I’m in a serious fiscal pinch —
and my banking knight fealty pals are shunning me
At this very moment, all my stocks are failing,
my major investments are all ailing
Market fluctuations speculatively are poised to ruin me,
knock me off those corporate boardroom cushy seats ...
straight into hard, rock bottom poverty
Got disloyal creditors wanting to toss me
and my french poodle Mimi out on the street
So once again, I’m begging you ...
Brother,
can you help a poor rich fella out
I’ve been kinda down on my luck lately
Will you help an honest American out, please ...
If you can you spare it,
a couple million bucks will set me at ease
Natural resources plundered worldwide
Everyone's a suspect
Watching us and all we do
Working our fingers to the bone until the day we die
One world government the ultimate plan
Rights to free speech being violated
Lets spare a thought for the third world nations
Disease and death on the daily
Oswald the patsy
Rockefeller Rothschild Rich Rich Rich
Do celebrities really need 20 million dollars per movie
Educate yourself, read a book, open your mind
Revolution
To the torn page out of Modern day Merlin’s book of wizardry,
I regret to inform you that you are nothing more than a recipe for tomato soup. You have no enchanted qualities about you, but you tend to brag about where you come from more times than you realize. Dear torn page, haven’t you noticed that the he only wondered on your whereabouts when his life was turning quite pale in color, and rugged in shape? Your words of zest, and your smooth direction brought vibrancy into his blue octagonal soul. Probably like how an octopus would feel escaping from a cloud of his own ink. He could breathe again.
But you’re lost now, and he doesn’t care much. You wonder why you were written in the first place if you’ve only felt what magic you can make once. If there are over 7 billion people in this world, have you ever wondered how many pages in books there might be? Has it ever occurred to you that out of those trillions of pages turned, over half haven’t been read at all? Has it ever occurred to you that books have been transformed into toys? Children in schools use you until they grow up and buy iPhones and laptops, and you’re left on sitting sideways on some rotting wooden shelf that has nothing more to talk about than how bad of a shape he’s in. Has it ever occurred to you that there are mysteries, histories, nursery rhymes, and adventures that have been overlooked because of the simple fact that humans have given up on the great things?
Actually, it would seem that giving up is the only thing their willing to give. Your black blood on a papyrus shell just doesn’t flow in the mind like it used to. You reminisce on the time when you were the only one that cast a spell on him, and you gave him life again.
Now the wizard is off signing autographs and performing shows at Rockefeller Center every first Friday of the month. He uses only spells so basic that he doesn’t have to read the step by step instructions anymore. To be honest, the book isn’t even used as frequently. I think I even saw a family of dust specks rent a home on page thirty-three last week.
But has it slipped your mind, humble recipe? Have you forgotten already of the position you’re in? You are a torn page now.
So float on by.
Let the wind keep you steady.
Many Christmas Trees are seen
around the Yule season in my city;
they all are very tall and beautiful,
but the Rockefeller Plaza's Norway spruce
is the most gigantic and spectacular
with its multicolored, gleaming bulbs.
Come to the city, where kids turn into angels:
they seem real cherubs being sent by Heaven itself,
and these angelic messengers love to play
their carols to announce Jesus joyful birth;
come closer, look up and hear those voices greatly
rejoicing in this bright corner of the earth!
Sit down in front of it and dream
of the gifts stacked underneath your pretty Christmas tree,
but the most precious is this one, only decorated with lights;
and its green color and sheer simplicity,
can begin making a glorious memory!
And which carol will you sing for the crowds?
Christmastime is a wonderful experience on New York City's streets:
stores, pubs, restaurants and shops dress up with dazzling decorations,
every street has a Santa ringing a bell and spreading good cheers;
where else can you find kind folks wishing strangers a Merry Christmas?
On Christmas Eve, Saint Patrick's Cathedral echoes with hymns...
and Child Jesus smiles at children as they caress His soft face.
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Now...
Metaphors dance in my mind
and there's a word I'm hoping
to find, a line familiar as
"I want you to be mine."
Relying on the fact that
poetry hasn't failed me yet
I hope you approve the way
God chose Moses's mouthpiece
and includes all thou's,
ye's, I's and me's
I want you to possess me
the way a forty-niner
would gold.
Blaze a trail through
Oregon greenery and
I'll follow you like
Rockefeller wealth
and hereditary genomes
wearing Nike shoes
till two becomes unified
I promise to pursue you.
Then...
I pictured sunflowers and
spilled rutabagas on grandma's
corner peeled linoleum.
She wore a halo and
shooed away storms
Her hello sounded like hallelujah
and hummed Blessed Assurance
as her dentures soaked
in baking soda.
Eventually...
You're reminding me of
the women of my youth
The qualities of a praying woman
has been man's best protection
The metaphor, word, and
line familiar found:
"He hasn't failed me yet,"
I can hear her saying.
I picture you praying.