Best Town Crier Poems
A true story.
Here I was,
23 or 24...
Classed an "Executive"
NYC Dept Store Chain,
"Executive" label meant
I could work overtime
For one half of my normal salary...
But a fool sees stars
Where he should see crime
Promoted "Furniture Buyer"....
Big Ticket spot....
They seemed out to prove
Smart I was not.
Big Furniture Market,
High Point, N.C.,
Invited out to dinner,
By big shot vendor....
Oh...whoop, whoop, yea!
Of course, my stuffy boss
was there,
In the next chair
At this odd restaurant...
"The Factory" it's name,
After that night,
I was never looked at the same....
Big shot, Big City....
Big Fool....
It wasn't pretty....
The menu did start
Entrees priced more
Than my annual salary
And I'm confused
There's a boiler next to me!
So this Big City Buyer,
In his $99.00 suit
Ordered a shrimp cocktail,
Oh, what a hoot!
Lights flashing....
Like Studio 54
I had no idea
What I was in for!
Got my shrimp cocktail,
Oh, I do love my shrimp!
But the lemon wedge,
Was wrapped up
My mind now a' crimp
In this decorative yellow stuff,
All fit with a bow....
How do I open it, I wondered...
I wanted to know...
But I'm a Big Shot NYC Buyer,
Sure, I've seen it all....
How dare these dumb hicks...
Have such a gall!!
I took my fork,
I took my knike....
I started trying to open
This thing like....
It meant my very life!
I was struggling,
And sweating,
And frustrated and mad
Got some of the weirdest looks
I ever have had...
These Carolina Hicks...
Out to make a fool of me...
Slowly I realized
Everyone looking at me...
My boss's eyes swollen
In shame
How dumb his young buyer
Should be in a cornfield
And call himself "Town Crier"
Eventually I learned....
This stuff was called
"Cheese-cloth"
Ridiculous I thought...
No cheddar or swiss
Like this had I ever bought...
In silence I remained
Through the rest of my meal....
To me the biggest embarrassment
To me the biggest deal....
Big City Hot Shot Buyer...
Dumb as a farm hand.....
Put in a Manhattan restaurant...
Without but a strand....
Of what was, what wasn't
Of how, and of why...
All I wanted to do
Is to crawl under a rock
And die!
(This is true!!!)
The Dilettante Diaries: "The Bumble Bee Big Blue Sky Boston Two Step on Love Street"
She said, "Pffft Bumble Bees Rule,
No Bees, no World
Shy Little Hearts
Big power
freedom wings
realised
dreams into reality
unfurls
Who’s to write that story?
She’s just a girl
In a Boston Two Step World"
He said, "Stung, once bitten twice shy..."
She said, "The Devil’s in the Details -
the real deal is swallowing
“The Whole Beautiful”
Big Blue Sky
and opening mouths
tongues speak
transfer a lush kiss
shared wealth
Icarus flies out
Sun in his mouth -
It's a sinch..."
He said, "Lady Bird! Lady Bird!
Your House is on Fire!"
She said, "Long ago maybe,
the Empire now strong in unified minds
unfurls to The Town Crier
A new Kingdom
Love
Power
rising higher and higher
Ok tiger, maybe a spark now,
Not yet into bonfire"
For a Woman
that once was a
Butter would melt
in mouth Girl
dreaming unreachable
bigger blue skies
She irreverently
turns keys
in hearts
A Fire opens latches
Lacquered Chinese
puzzle boxed
pheromone trials
and strange
very odd matches
Carniolan whispers, “Bring it on”
She now smiles
and captures...
Judges 14 buzzzing bees 8
Air thick with flying honey
All Along the Watch Tower
She opens the Gate
Hendrix’s Bumble Bees speak,
in hushed reverent
unified tone,
"It’s never too late..."
(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)
1.
https://genius.com/The-jimi-hendrix-experience-all-along-the-watchtower-lyrics
2.
"If the doorbell rang in her apartment, she would say, 'What fresh hell can this be?' — and it wasn't funny; she meant it." You might as well live: the life and times of Dorothy Parker...
3.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Icarus
4. hmmm, interesting, ah that Dark Bee...
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carniolan_honey_bee
5.
Secret "Bee Spell", a riddle, inserted into this Chinese Puzzle Box. Much Love, LUX VITAE x
The Blue Stones/Be My Fire
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znOA3xCtHfk
Mother's hope shot!
Who will rescue tomorrow?
Unending woe...
..............................................
Midnight town crier!
Women and children take cover
Men running to war.
..............................................
Dry leaf swaying down
Looking from where it falls
Fresh leaves, take caution.
.............................................
Not minding the meat,
Isolated to ponder,
Woeing solution.
...........................................
Plates without hope
war came frowning
never to smile.
Soldiers in the line of fire,
we're mic for hire,
we're for the cash or die
so all kneel to the poetic sire,
It's the black king from the goddess
plantin' cash seeds in the garden of loot,
It's the moment of truth,
My voice is like a volcanic box of chatter,
Poetry tracks will stab ya' like daggers,
My words scatter like when blood splatters,
As I unveil my wisdom & remedies,
My human acts & energies tend to be,
The formulas for your life & deaths proximity,
I'm mic for hire,
Spectators kneel & scream sire,
Trumpets get blown
As I spread my message like a town crier,
It's the arrival of the buffalo soldier,
You seized up in the RHYME PEDDLA'Z culture,
Fumes from my vocal box will choke ya',
As i drop poetic rain throughout your village,
And spillage from my mind damn creates a pillage,
For cash flow,
To the non-believers I slash throats and bag foes,
I'm equivalent to spontaneous combustion
When I splash quotes,
In verbal warfare, I'm psycotic and I don't frolic,
With my melodic manuscripts to leave your brain spotted,
With my symbol,
My mind runs fugitive like Richard Kimball,
360 degrees from my left temple back to my left temple,
I spit cerebral typhoons,
Spoken words and hype tunes,
Will penetrate your system
Leaving deep traces of mic wounds,
Which will reconstruct your eardrums,
I fears none but GOD the almighty big one,
A shot of cognac be my serum I need a swig son,
While i'm deep inside the trenches, relentless,
Trying to keep my adversaries hintless,
Many die quick, hard & centless,
Tryin' to phathom,
The magnectic lyrical orgasms,
From the dark skin grizzly adams
Well they done took away ma pension
whilst I waren’t payin no tention.
Never thought thet thar could happen,
Seems ma face they keep a slappin'.
Ah trusted all them folk thet said ah could,
ah took their word like they sed ah should,
but now ah see they jest a bunch a thieves,
Take all ya got and knock ya to yer knees.
Use ta was be you could tell a liar,
plain’s ya could the town crier,
Now they got sneakier ways,
from lots a practice these days.
Them banks and the government’s in cahoots.
Reckon they standin’ in each others boots.
Whisht ah’d a knowed they wuz gonna play those games
Ah’d a set much lower aims.. maybe like …Jesse James.
Done asked a lawyer onced bout business and ethics.
He laughed and said “Bob, business and ethics don’t mix!”
Never heered anybody say that right out loud…
Still laughin’ at me,.. he walked away proud.
Yep, maybe I’d a set much lower aims…
Reckon I’d a understood… Jesse James.
There once was a sweet little lass from Eire
Who had everything a man could desire
A mustache she wore
And biceps galore
With bass voice like that of the town crier
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
On one daring day, when the bruising sun was yet to set
And unfold the opportunities of an anticipated and hopeful day.
A bystander sprouted out from her shell into the dew
Hardly aware of the blindfolds of reality
She set off; ready to feed her eyes what it loves the most, doom!
She is a racy schadenfreude.
Across the street, a mishap called her name
The voice she heeded with race of flashes
To the scene, straining to snap a view for her sight
Alas! She saw the fuss of commotion, and was marveled
She bragged to herself ‘’I’m always on time’’…
A metallic beast had kissed a monstrous millipede
Conveying explosive water, but had unturned and wet the soil.
People were engulfed in steams of smoke
Singing the song of pain and perturbing panic.
The sing-song travelled to her like the gong of a town-crier
The echo drew the bystander closer as she gasped in awe
Her frenzied soul almost ran amok in unpleasant excitement
Her eyes were fixed on her flutter, while ignoring the wet floor she toed.
Just then, a vestige of spark was wafted and veered towards her
In seconds of second, she too was swimming in stream of flame
She whirled out for help but echo ricocheted void
Of abyssal coma, as the day set, the sun smiled as she was bathed to ashes
Then other onlookers after observing the osmosis quickly grabbed her remains
And blew it to the waiting wind
The Man above the earth sniffed it and frowned
‘’Another wasted soul loitering in damnation’’, He muttered.
Then He cried rain down to cleanse others
But as it showers, they stood back gracing the sight
That holds their eyes- the bystanders!
Tonight, the full moon blooms
And foils the looming gloom.
The remnant doom from noon
Has lost it's bullish tune.
And embraces dusk's eerie cool.
The village square it illuminates
Arena of moonlight tales of late
The little ones gather and wait
While the elderly engage in debates
And the goats noisily ruminates
The bright night, lights sparks
Of bliss and joy in trees' barks
The tall iroko whistle in parks
Where young lovers end their tracks
And skimpy skirts lose their tacks
The son of perdition frets unsure
The thief in the night fears exposure
The pirate sailor steers from ashore
The night fisherman denied action
For the kind light bathes the ocean
Tonight, the full moon beams proud
As the town crier makes his round
Belting forth a piercing sound.
While the town's chorus echoes loud
The stage is set for the yearning crowd
sitting on the (front) lawn,
it's just you and me;
welcoming the morning's glow,
sharing a cup of tea
here comes nosy anna welsh,
walking that ghastly beast;
town crier of the neighborhood,
trouble, to say the least!
"what are you folks drinking?"...she asks,
"looks kind of fishy to me";
"mind if i sit in for a spell?"...
"would you like a bit of company?"
"excuse us for a moment"...i reply
"i think i hear our phone!";
before you can utter "poppycock",
anna's standing all alone
an hour or so has passed,
soon, it's the middle of the day;
finally, she accepts her cue,
then madly walks away!
sitting on the (back) lawn,
it's just you and me;
a shame it is to spin a fib,
to keep your sanity!
peace and quiet tha's all i desire,a village green without a town crier
a tranquil spot a silent idyll,more chance of finding caviar at your local lidl
i get through my door and hope the noise will recede then the kids next door decide to start a stampede
up and down stairs at a thunderous pace,i'm seriously thinking about knocking and spraying them with mace
serves them right for making my life hell,ah bliss solitary confinement and my own prison cell
i go to the library to escape the hubbub, only to find the kids have started there own social club
the librarian in charge tries in vain to restore order, more chance of peace on the palestinian border
i'm short sighted ,long sighted and walk with a stick, yet from forty yards i can hear a digital clock tick
i shoulndn't complain but i defenitely plan to, one more thing what do the noise abatement society actually do
B elieving in a muse meant to amuse
R ecites his verses leaving clues
I mpetuous no time for schmooze
A ficionado of smooth rhythm and blues
N obody alive could fill Brian’s shoes
S avory contests are his prized specialty
T allies judging without awarding penalty
R hyme or free verse, sweet or salty
A bove all Brian will never tire
N o one more prolific proclaims the town crier
D rumroll please for the sire we most admire
Submitted on January 6, 2021 for contest CAPTURE THE ESSENCE sponsored by MARGARITA LILLICO - RANKED 8TH
THE AMERICAN DILEMMA
by
JOHN M. ARRIBAS
There was a time when the town crier spread the news
Terse, straight, unfiltered, unbiased with no personal views
Alas, those times have disappeared into days of yore
We now have more news thrown at us than ever before
From sources sworn to be reliable, accurate and true
Usually from an illiterate maybe living next door to you
News now is reported in order to solidify a position
Repeated over and over to reduce valid opposition
These fools are not limited only to those in the streets
It’s for anyone and everyone that regurgitates tweets
It’s one moron to another stating his unproven facts
Certifying his allegations in spite of the proof he lacks
Most have many opinions stating incontrovertible truths
Gleaned from incompetent nobodies acting as sleuths
Honesty has vanished, repeated dribble is now the norm
Pick out a topic support it, rally, protest: create a storm
Those that oppose the demands are forced into submission
They will be named racists, bigots, etc: and did I mention?
They will be barred from expressing any opposing vision
They will be subject to physical and mental attrition
They will be silenced in fear of violence and intimidation
With no opposition the fools are more demanding n brazen
Masked attackers will roam streets seeking any opponent
Their continued demands increasing moment by moment
Opposition is muted, only few dare to parry their claims
Silent majority, silent, few dare challenge their aims
The silent majority complains in utter frustration
While sitting in the front row to the death of a nation
This is a tale of a broken heart
This is the news that was whispered in the market.
When I saw the maid from Mazi Nduka's house
I dreamt she was my spouse
So that my melancholy days were no more
That gentle sadness, which began when mama whom I adore
Joined our ancestors, my heart now abhor.
Asam, my comely maid is the delicious soup
Everyone wants a taste of it, I am the owner
Of the three storey building near my father's compound
In Amuzo.
I acted like a child who had a new cloth, I waited
Under the mango tree, for the maid whose sight abated
My ache, my pain. I called her nwam, my baby. nwam oma; fine baby
She smiled. she laughed.
Her black skin shone from the palm kernel oil, mmanuaki
Her grandma had made.
Her eyes is a mirror; the glorious stars's abode
Her hair is the thick forest of Amuzo
I held her hands and told her the story my mother told me
How the princess of Amuzo long ago
Became fair to look upon because she danced well
At the festival of the new yam.
My Asam laughed and whispered to me
She whispered to me she was as innocent as the day she was born
That the wall between her legs were waiting for me
In three market days, kola nuts and palm wine
Shall see the kinsmen of my beloved
My father shall say we want the beautiful
Flower in Mazi Nduka's house
Or the she goat in his compound.
I like the proverbs of my people,
But I love our prospective conjugal right
My mind envisions.
Last night, I heard the gong of the town crier
Every one went to the town hall;
Three maidens must cross the river of Amuzo
That river which turns red at night, and
Swallows the girl who losses her shoe
Three pure maidens, must bring a pink pebble
From the bank of the river, or be married to the king
My departed fever jumped into me
Next thing I saw my self seated beside
My ancestors. Then like a scene seen from afar
I beheld my Asam, thrust a metal blade
Into her flesh.
Winter`s gone,spring is here;still hanging on the barbed wire,
Waiting for the proper time to hire
a writer to teach me this act,which I conspire,
Composing rhythms and song like a dynamic choir,
This notion of making you mine;I`m not ready to retire,
Staying close to you make me to perspire,
Your simplicity and indefatigable traits I admire,
You look so pretty like the girl in the flier,
Your love and comfort, I so desire,
which make my heart to be on fire,
this true love I must acquire,
so that I can move higher,
And I want you to be the supplier,
My heart beats like the gong of a town crier,
which makes me feel that I`ve seen the messiah,
Joy flows through my vein like pumped tyre,
This heavenly bliss I must.. aspire!,
Please allow me to be your Mr.sapphire.
DATE:2-23-2013
"Nyx Twixt"
Blown
A long kiss,
he’s so Marshmallow
pretending to be
Peanut Brittle
She’s not interested
in small minds revelling
in a life less lived
Little
So she’ll toast him
by the fire that
burns inside his
vengeful heart, the town crier
Hell skips rope
to her tune
she sends him
the "Pass Go" card
Monopoly rides his
Funeral Pyre
Nyx twixt
Heaven N Hell
Baby’s on Fire
Striding over road kill
(Lady Labyrinth/ 2019)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nItuhuY1U04
Eno.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzFsDQeTUT4
Fripp.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyx