Best Trenton Poems
Men, I know this is Christmas Night.
However, remember we have a war to fight.
His Majesty’s forces have had us occupied.
Our freedom and well-being is something they have denied.
They are just across the river from our encampment.
They are engaged in frolic and holiday merriment.
We can catch these redcoats by complete surprise.
They do not expect us to move until sunrise.
Of our plans, they must be very unaware.
Get everything into the boats and cross the Delaware.
If all goes well, victory will be on our side.
Tonight is when we must turn the battle’s tide.
Choose to be Happy
I am happy because I choose to be; my life is far from perfect.
Others are content but I make conscious choices to be Happy and to be a positive person.
You don’t have to be rich or have a lot of money and material wealth to be happy.
Many wealthy people are poor in Spirit with all the money, fame and things that they have.
This Christmas Eve night as I write this poem I think about how I manage my money focusing on my needs first and then my wants.
I ask myself: Can I afford that? Do I need this? Can I wait for the store price to go down and get that dress on sale?
I hope that once I am financially stable with a decent job I can have a coat drive for kids age 1 through 16 in Trenton, New Jersey when every boy and girl gets a cute new coat and I hope that my story inspires others my battle with mental illness over 19 years…
"Steeped" in resentment at usurious taxes, a Revolution was "brewing!"
History records that the Boston Tea Party was to be the Brits undoing!
An anguished groan was heard as barrels of tea were hurled into the sea!
Their grog of rum they might forego, but never their tot of tea!
Every pupil has read Longfellow's, "Midnight Ride Of Paul Revere!"
And his lantern signals to be hung in the belfry on that midnight clear.
"One, if the Brits approach by land - two, if they approach by sea!
We'll catch 'em by surprise, 'cause they'll be sipping oolong tea!"
A decisive battle was fought to a standstill at Bunker Hill.
Although the rag-tag Yankee militia lacked in military skill,
They fought like tigers, Sir William Howe could readily see,
As he pondered his next move eating his scones and slurping tea!
On a dreary Christmas Eve, Washington crossed the Delaware.
The Brits were celebrating and were taken completely unaware!
Caught by surprise in Trenton, they were unable to flee,
All because they had to have that inviolable break for tea!
According to historians and such like who like to keep score,
They found that the Brits won many battles but they lost the war!
Though the point is debatable and the Brits might disagree,
Would we be speaking Cockney, had they not paused for a cup o' tea?
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
There once was a teacher from Trenton
who tried, but he couldn't keep his belt on,
His pants they would fall
on his knees he would crawl,
And the children, they all paid attention.
New Jersey was still a king’s colony
in the 1700s when Mrs. Leeds
awaited the birth of child thirteen.
In pain during labor she cried a curse!
The Quaker is claimed to have given birth
to a son of Satan’s demonic worth.
The New Jersey Devil’s legend was born.
Deep in Pine Barrens where no paths are worn,
Mrs. Leeds denied her child with scorn.
Deformed with cloven hoofs and bat-like wings,
much fear the demon to this day brings.
Satanic evening cries through pine trees sing.
In 1870 where woods meet sea,
a fisherman cast his line at Long Beach,
claimed that this devil emerged from the trees.
To croon a demon’s tune to a mermaid,
this sea beauty’s innocence he sought to jade,
but she swam off as his wicked song played.
Councilman Weeden in 1909
awoke to hear flapping wings in the night.
Cloven hoof prints in snow were left behind.
Multiple sightings near Trenton that year,
with more across the bay in Delaware.
And Pennsylvanians, too, were gripped by fear.
Tracks found at May’s Landing, 1960.
Ten thousand dollars were offered to he
who captured the devil of south Jersey.
This bounty unclaimed still leads fearless men
to hunt in Pine Barrens, the devil’s den.
They enter never to emerge again.
Children with wide eyes sit by campfires.
Huddled close together, they conspire
to capture the winged midnight flyer.
*Submitted for Deb's Monster contest
Written with consultation from the New Jersey Historical Society
Note: According to the Trenton NJ newspaper, NJ Considered Ban on Bare-it-
all “Brazilian” Wax due to complications suffered by some.
I know it's not about a foot that's bare
Butt where you wear your underwear
Though I was warned, "You can't go there"
I have this poem I have to share
New Jersey is drawing the line when it comes to bikini waxing
It seems the Brazilian “bare-it-all” wax has gotten a bit - - - well - - taxing
You see this Brazilian “bare-it-all” wax
Is intended for fronts and those a bit lax
To rid the old body of anything curly
And let yourself look a bit younger and girly
But women have gotten unhealthy infections
And are forced to take pills or costly injections
To counter the trauma they had to endure
Insuring their lines were clean and secure
But you see by law, that’s not even allowed
There are parts of the body that should be left proud
And if someone is waxing you back to your youth
It’s a little unseemly – a little uncouth
It is better to leave some parts unattended
Then to get Mother Nature upset and offended
So New Jersey will seal this Brazilian Wax fate
After all they are known as The Garden State
Contest: Barefoot
GENERAL WASHINGTON
Once in command, he boxed in the British
At Boston where he captured Dorchester Heights,
Overlooking the Brits at his mercy
As his men took aim with their cannon sites.
The British commander had but one choice,
To sail to New York to renew the fight.
Where the English had much greater forces,
Who soon chased Washington's men in full flight.
They continued on to Pennsylvania
After crossing the Hudson in retreat,
With the British forces in hot pursuit
It looked as though George was doomed to defeat.
When winter seemed to have stopped the fighting
That's when Washington crossed the Delaware.
On that Christmas night he captured Trenton
Where Hessians were surprised and unaware.
He whipped the British at Princeton,
Where in victory his men began to sing.
Washington then wintered at Morristown,
Training his troops for the combat of spring.
Washington fought bravely at Brandywine
And again at a place called Germantown,
But the British were the victorious ones
As the dead of both sides covered the ground.
Americans were blessed early that spring,
When the French entered the war on their side.
Though most suffered frostbite at Valley Forge,
With the help of the French they marched in stride.
The battles raged on, in the North and South
As the King’s soldiers laid waste to the land.
Washington himself was in great despair,
Pleading for aid for his weakened command.
His prayers were answered by 5000 troops,
And a French fleet who took Chesapeake Bay.
They bottled up Cornwallis at Yorktown,
Who surrendered to victory drums at play.
Yorktown was really the end of the war
Though not many quite realized that fact yet.
But the British soon grew tired of the fight
And the terms for its end were signed and set.
Washington yearned to retire at home,
But his country chose him first president.
Cheering crowds waved flags of love and support,
For they believed that "he," by God, was sent.
By Tom Zart
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You were born in 1919 in Trenton, New Jersey,
Television would be your medium for comedy.
Your first appearance to the public was in 1950.
This was an early morning show broadcast by NBC
Preceding “The Today Show”, it was called “Three to Get Ready”.
Over the next several years, you would be seen on TV
on many different shows on both NBC and ABC.
From Philadelphia and New York with your wife Edie,
you entertained countless numbers with brilliant comedy.
musical trio of gorillas from Nairobi,
along with many of your different characters would be
appearing on your shows that boosted your popularity.
Poet Percy Dovetonsils was someone we would often see.
With his thick glasses, he would read us some funny poetry.
Many television viewers saw you with a cigar.
With your wife Edie Adams, your career certainly went far.
As well as television, you made several movies.
A car accident was the cause of your fatal injuries.
This happened just before your birthday in 1962.
Since January the thirteenth of that year, we have missed you.
I am the minuteman
and I’ll lay thyself in a grave,
whether from distant lands
or if you’re just from down the lane,
Stand against freedom and
I will treat you all just the same,
God help you if
you step in my aim
I am the minuteman
and the weight, it falls upon me,
I must do what I can
to ensure my family’s safety,
my skin is worn and tanned
from stepping into the breech,
but I will take a stand
to stay free.
I am the minuteman,
I fight to save this land,
best not to force my hand,
or I’ll lay thyself in a grave.
We are the minutemen
and we cross frozen rivers at night,
to storm sleeping Trenton
and put startled Hessians to flight,
panic, it does grip them
as they leap from bead in a fright,
they thought us useless hens
who don’t fight…
We are the minutemen,
and we won’t be put off by freezing,
Valley Forge thinned our ranks
but there was a fight due come spring,
hardship has become a friend,
now no Red-coat seems frightening,
at Monmouth we showed England
quite a thing.
I am the minuteman,
I fight to save this land,
best not to force my hand,
or I’ll lay thyself in a grave.
Johann Rall and his Hessian men are defeated this harsh chilled day.
Washington routed these troops at a small Trenton town with surprise.
Crossing the raw Delaware Run, with war so lost as some would say,
he gives his land a victory now - such needful and sought for prize.
Hundreds of the bad German guards are then taken when full at ease.
Faces are red ashamed for sure when caught having pants down at knees.
TRAIN – 1958
On a warm summer evening
at North Philadelphia Station
the 6:19 on track three, the "Spirit
of Saint Louis-Limited" from Penn Station
New York, Newark and Trenton bound for
Thirtieth Street, Paoli, Lancaster, Harrisburg
Altoona, Pittsburgh, Columbus, Cincinnati
Indianapolis and Saint Louis
Twenty cars of elegance named Raritan
Susquehanna, Shenandoah, Delaware…follow
the sleek GG1 that is “Pennsy” power and speed
on the north Jersey flats, the rolling Dutch Country
the Tidewater regions of the Northeast Corridor
prelude to the moaning of the big double diesels in the
cool humid evening pulling silver moon-lit coaches
over the intricate topography of the ridge and valley
province, up the long steep grades, around the narrow
horseshoe curves, through the dark fertile clearings
the dense upland forests, the ancient terrestrial
rhythms of the Allegheny Mountains, and in the
silent midnight hours, falling faster and faster from
the Appalachian Plateau into the shadowed lowlands
of the broad Ohio Country, west through Indiana
a caterpillar of light and noise with a rapid
steel-clad cadence clacking, clicking, roaring through
the dreams of sleeping towns and farms, crossing
gracefully-crafted bridges over black ribbons of
water, and gathering their speed like earth-bound
meteors, drawn by the gravity of the Mississippi
River, greet the pearly gray dawn at a hundred
miles an hour, bursting through the mists with
the early morning sun, their haunting horns
blowing, howling at the crossings on the
Illinois prairie, the great river just ahead
Tonight I’ll lie in bed and listen to the television
next door, to the sirens in the neighborhood nearby,
but the rhythm of my thoughts will be rocking me
to sleep on the bright city of the night, hurtling
towards the west, opening up the continent to a
boy’s imagination and to railroad
station dreams
They taxed us without our consent,
we who though we were Englishmen,
said we had no say in governance,
so we simply boycotted them,
threw their tea into the harbor,
let them know that we’d had enough,
they sent troops to beat our spirits down,
didn’t think we would be all that tough.
But when they marched for Bunker Hill
two times we made the redcoats run,
they crippled themselves for ‘victory,’
come and see what the rabble have done.
And when they arrived in great force,
our militias then tasted defeat,
they forced our forces from New York,
and pressed us down though New Jersey.
Many thought the game was over,
that is was but a matter of time,
then Washington crossed that river
to declare we were still in the fight.
Surprised all the dreaded Hessians,
asleep in their beds at Trenton,
didn’t lose a single soldier,
come and see what the rabble have done.
When Burgoyne started marching south,
determined to split up this land,
citizen soldiers from all around
assembled to challenge the man.
Locked in stalemate at Saratoga,
the British went out probing,
not expecting our forces would stand up,
much less charge forwards attacking.
The great professional army
soon would find itself overrun,
the first big redcoat surrender,
come and see what the rabble have done.
When Britain took Philadelphia,
the rabble went to Valley Forge,
Britain thought they all would freeze,
dwindle away until no more.
But those cold men, no food or shoes,
persisted against winter’s chill,
learned old Europe’s fighting style,
under Von Steuben they would drill.
At Monmouth they gave just what they got,
held their own until the setting sun,
beat the British at their own game,
come and see what the rabble have done.
Again at Cowpens, Stony Point,
King Mountain out in the back woods,
when the royal army struck at us,
we gave it back just as good,
until finally at Yorktown,
a French fleet blocking the escape,
the rabble came for Cornwallis,
who could only yield to his fate.
They played ‘The World Turned Upside Down,’
believed that the peasants had won,
not understanding who they had fought,
come and see what us Free Men have done.
Clock
on wall
snickering
10 minutes fast
waiting on the wings
sipping an Ayinger
one hand playing with the phone
double checking Trenton schedule
another train is gonna get missed
order a shot with the next pint of beer
he is my freind
he is my life
he is the best friend ever
he is the shoulder i cry on
he nows all my secerts
i love him aaf
he makes me laugh
he makes me smile
we argue but we do get back along
he the best thing ever happen to me
billon more words could not even describe him
but he is my wild friend
Trenton