Best Street Poems

St Anthony's orphanage was founded some thirty years ago
For homeless and orphaned children, by a priest Father Angelo
Every child was made welcome; race and religion mattered not
And every Christmas Father Angelo ensured presents they all got.

Throughout the year many fundraisers were held inside and out
Father Angelo was determined his children wouldn't go without
He had much...

Continue reading...

Looking down my tree lined street

the setting sun casts her glow

upon the Chestnuts, Maples, and Oaks

dressed in worn out yellow ribbons 

telling the story of friendship and loss

strength and courage.

How there was hope and there were dreams.

That life wouldn't pull us apart.

There was community and passion

and smiles each time you went through that revolving door.

We...

Continue reading...

In silence, your friendship is a sun to me,
Your warmth a shower to erase pain.

In you pain exists, something I cannot solve,
But in my warmth you can stay a while.

Just know that I am here for you,
For friendship is no one way street.

***

Copyright © Darren White
March 31, 2017...

Continue reading...

The street seemed so much smaller now

The grime and the smell were still the same though

Engrained like the people who lived there

It was the only thing that never left him

She stayed at twenty-three

One tough girl

Christ, he still remembers the day she knocked him out

Slightly concussed, he proposed to her

Not bad for a twelve-year-old

She couldn’t stop...

Continue reading...

Set upon the new world stage within the burning fires of hell. Silently posed factions of the elite, suppress the true inherit of Mother Earth. The meek children bending over for millennium, taken spankings of bare bottoms, pelted slavery. 

Upon entry to rule, the open stage of smoked mirrors began to reflect back upon the...

Continue reading...

Plunked down in chaos
from a gentler time,
blinkered from the traffic
he pulls the coach along.
Patient, in his harness bond
he tugs at hearts, with pathos-
as to his love of duty we respond. 
Amidst the screech of sirens
and the blasting horns,
he stands and dreams
of meadows in a nosebag.
 
Such rhythmic clicking of
 metal shoes on concrete,
full rolling of...

Continue reading...

(On the state of American Poetry-  A Non-Poem Poem )




I'm Poet Laureate Of Main Street.
They voted.  I won.

' came down to me and the kid whose dog craps on everyone's lawns.

His poem was about a missing red crayon; mine: the stop-sign someone stole from the corner of Elm and Main (I think I...

Continue reading...

One Texan day, a man close to his prime,
sat down on a curb beside a tree.
It was an empty street; there was no crime
nor danger anywhere that he could see.
But suddenly, the world he knew would cease to be.

He’d lived a goodly life and sacrificed
to leave his home and get a law degree.
If there were...

Continue reading...

When the orange edge of the sun rises 
above silver tint hues of an endless horizon
I sway with silent elegance in the meadow of your heart
You 'd pick up all scattered petals from dusty pages of the past.
And there you find my concealed love...
It is then when you recall  untainted colours of the promise
forgotten...

Continue reading...

The dank petrichor of grainy night,
meters stand like gravestones, 
the obsidian avenue slick as a sapphire,
windowed granite rising in sharp cut shadows,
wind gusting, tumbleweed clouds somersaulting 
in a moonless ghost town.
I jingle keys with atonal sky
and listen to my footsteps on concrete
ticking like a clock.

There are places to be.
I hasten my step as rain drops...

Continue reading...

Lingering (in foggy haze)

Silhouettes of lost souls

(basket people muttering)

Lingering

(as they always do)

Culture of poverty
holding up signs
will work for food
the barefoot children
HIV and hunger
the powerless mothers...

Lingering

Cult of personalities speak
(the politicians)
eager for answers we listen
to false hope.

Lingering

Embers dancing in the wind
and the Spanish Moss
that hangs from magnificent 
oaks
begin to fall like funeral 
draperies
that echo meaningless sighs...

Lingering...
~ ~...

Continue reading...

The middle class here can't be saved
When 0.001% act so depraved
Their wealth without end
These royals* still pretend
Did not come from us—their 
enslaved**


*The Royals: CEOs, Banksters, Revolving Door Regulators, The FED, Congressmen for sale, Lobbyists, Board Members of Big Corporations, Major Shareholders who vote for these Board 
Members, Corrupt Managers, Dishonest Used Car Salesmen, Presidential Candidates...

Continue reading...

Hey there fella,
Listen up real fine
I'm gonna blast ya
With this slammin rhyme

You said I be trippin 
Cuz i can't show my love
Well you still be creepin
With that itsy package you shove 

Go back and give me
Something more than your haiku
For this big ol momma
I needs somethin to chew

Don't get all uppity
Or sig yer hoes on...

Continue reading...

On many long, drawn out nights, his routine was to
shuffle aimlessly along dimly lit city streets.
Much of the time, his only companion was a
concealed remnant of cheap bottled wine. He
scavenged for food and money. He would walk
enveloped in deep, weighty shadows and
halo laden street lights. Solitary. Lonely.
Emptiness that few people feel or know.
The raw hollow...

Continue reading...

If throughout the city you are a roamer, 
you will see the word "civilization" is a misnomer. 
It looks like a city, but it's a jungle out there. 
When walking down the streets, one must take extra care. 
There are liars, cheats, and crooks galore. 
Nothing has changed. It's the same as before. 
What does...

Continue reading...