Greenwich Village Poems | Examples

On MacDougal Street

I'm nobody that you'd know - 
maybe you can call me Joe.
Walking down MacDougal Street,
I had no one to meet.
A New York night without a friend,
I dropped into The Bitter End 
to escape the cold and think, 
and to have myself a drink.

My troubled mind caught G-sharp.
A kid there played a fine mouth harp.
From an unknown nasal voice,
words grabbed me - I had no choice.
Poetry poured down in my hole
and reached into my soul.
How lucky can a poor boy be -
Bob Dylan will make history.  

~ an anonymous patron of a folk music club in Greenwich Village, 1961

Grandfather Clock

I know you love him
but if you're honest with yourselves
its become Greenwich Village obvious
that grandfather clock
is having trouble keeping time
all you need do is look
at the way his minutes quickly slip on by
there is a lot more than pride at stake
it would be sinful to look the other way

....and to all the others that hate him
the very least you can do at this point
is to not mock him anymore than you already have 
karma is always a hellhound 
at the throat of mockers

Grandfather clock is exhausted
his cogwheel are misaligned
so its time to finally treat him like a grandfather  
not a time piece
he's payed the price for living
(as most have)
many times over.

Let the spring raindrops keep time 
and we'll all call it an act of compassion

Big Apple

Yellow cabs and pavements they call sidewalks,
Grand Central Station and the Metro too,
Central Park as big as a small city,
The Empire State’s great panoramic view.
A walk through Greenwich Village or through Chelsea,
The Hudson flowing deep beneath our feet,
Madison Square Garden for the boxing,
Musical named 42nd Street.
Take a ferry over to the statue,
That’s situated on Liberty Isle,
Stand at the base of the one World Trade Center,
The tallest u.s. building for a while.
Brooklyn Bridge and Rockefeller Centre,
A symbol of amazing self-made wealth,
Times Square to welcome in a brand new year,
A Macy’s trip to help your mental health!
The yankees stadium lies in the outskirts,
Back to the centre for a Broadway show,
Bloomingdales the height of any fashion,
Museums and Parks everywhere you go.
So get a cycle or hire yellow taxis,
To see most though I’d recommend you walk,
To see sights of a 24 hour city,
The magic and the beauty of New York!

Senryu Fun

greenwich village
                                karaoke night    
                                down at the ymca

Mind Blown

Once twin towers stood.
In the city king kong  fell in love.
Yellow taxi's swarm like stripeless bees.
and a sky line thats silhouted on your mind.
with police sirens screaming 
and broadway calling.
Times Square lights hurting your eyes. 
With Central park its breathing lung 
a countryside  oasis in a concrete corsett.
Greenwich village with its arts and crafts
and wall streets big business and brash. 
United nations share this town.
musical and big fight nights. 
basket balls  globe trotters strut thier funky stuff.
and the yankees play class baseball. 
all in all 
new york as blown my mind.

Halloween Parades

The Village Halloween Parade*
Is famous through the land,
The costumes so creative
That they surely beat the band.

But I was sent some pictures
And some video as well
From a local school parade
Much cuter, far as I can tell.

The kindergarten students,
Dressed in various disguise,
Sang their hearts out in the schoolyard,
An adorable surprise.

They’d been practicing for weeks
And their performance a delight,
With choreography to mimic
Witch’s broom or vampire bite.

Of course, you’ve figured out by now
This was my grandson’s school,
Which, with him inside, will always
Be the best. (That’s Nana’s rule!)

*in New York City’s Greenwich Village

Ode To Joe Gould

Born Joseph Ferdinand Gould, in Norwood Massachusetts, 1889.
A 1911 graduate of Harvard, and a
Greenwich village Bohemian from 1916 until 1957,
and the time of his death at age 68.
Joe was a filthy and disgusting man, who constantly smelled
like homeless shelter disinfectant. 
Dirty fingers, greasy clothes but also an intellectual.
He was a writer, a poet, a lier and a bum, A thief and
A drunk, and other poets hated him and he hated them.
He once told them that "Not only is your poetry bad, but
also stolen from other bad poets."
One night he convinced them that he had written the
most wonderful poem, and that they should allow him 
to stand and recite it, and they did. 
Joe stood up that night back in 1942, in the Raven poetry club 
in New york city`s Lower East side, and read his poem. 

                                   " In winter I`m a Buddhist,
                                      and in summer I`m a nudist."

    With that I raise my glass to you Joe Gould. I wish I had known ya!

New York City Cowboys

In New York City, where do you go
if you want to compete in some rodeo?
In order to rent a studio in Greenwich Village,
you need extra high income and a privilege.
Living there means signing a long-term lease.
The only men seen on horseback are the police.
In the midst of the high-rises, it would seem quite strange,
to find a wide open prairie and a home on the range.
In this urban setting, cattle do not roam the streets.
You can only find them in grocery markets as meats.
I want to get out of the city; away from the rest.
Get me a plane ticket.  I want to fly out west.

After Midnight Jazz

Where Upper West and East Side ended in sounds
Showing me the way where the female singer Carolina and I
Together shall meet the Law of Natural was translated
Into glorious flesh and in fire all 
My body and tears emerged in the flow.

Till the vigilant noon
Took us away since we could swiftly
Speeding through the floating water. 
I did not mind who's waiting there
For the moonlight after she said to tell me 
Goodbye.

I just wanted to see her more, with a short uneasy blast,
In my Greenwich Village apartment 
Quietly sailed on and on my back;
And then, after midnight for another jazz night --our Song, I guess
That made history so thinner and heavier 
Let my vision went away with my female singer
In jazz night.

Bob Dylan Walking

Head bent
His eyes firmly fixed on the ground
Guitar in hand
There he goes
Trying to keep the biting winter’s wind
From nipping at his nose
Baby faced with a bouncing gait
Bob Dylan is walking the streets
Of Greenwich Village
It’s sometime in the late 1960’s

Now, I’m not saying that I’m old
But I remember those times
And when I close my eyes
It was just the other day
That the Village 
Was a mystical portal
Of finger pickin’
Music and words that kept you thinkin’
Moonlit nights with lots of coffee drinkin’
And smiles of friends who are no longer singin’
‘cause they’ve gone far, far away

But these days
I can still hear their harmonies walking
Down the streets of Greenwich Village
Past the old Coffeehouses 
That no longer have a name
Except for the ones we remember
And on those cold winter nights
When the wind blows chilly to the morning
I can hear
The clickety-clack
Of Bob Dylan’s boots
Walking around the 1960 streets
Of the Greenwich Village I once knew
-----------------------------------------------

While I was writing this
A funny thought occurred to me
… it was this…
Who remembers?
Why Pepperidge Farms remembers
That’s who!

A Village Encounter

From Queens to Manhattan, I rode the subway.
I will never forget that late spring day,
when I walked into that Greenwich Village café.
This young girl practically stole my heart away.
With a long white dress, and a six string guitar,
she was just another wannabe star.
I was sitting not far away from her at the bar.
Between sips of my glass of seltzer,
I listened to each sweet note sung by her.

The end of her performance brought a light ovation.
She sat next to me for some casual conversation.
After an informal introduction came a sweet little smile.
I was attracted to her all the while,
even though she was Jewish, and I a gentile.
I told her I also performed in a band.
She wrote her phone number on my left hand.
Everything with this female appeared just right.
I asked if I could see her tomorrow night.
She emphatically said “okay” and smiled with delight.

Later that night, disappointment would encumber.
When I tried to call her, I got a wrong number.

A Day In Manhattan

Riding in a taxi cab through canyons of concrete,
you will see thousands of inhabitants on each street.
This one of the five boroughs has everything complete.
What an island that is a city within a city.
It stretches from Harlem in the north to the battery.
If you are riding a bus, or a subway train underground,
so much fascinating scenery can be found.
There is Broadway, Central Park, Greenwich Village, and Times Square.
The bridges and the tunnels will all lead you there.
This is a jolly old place that nobody can deny.
With this “Big Apple”, you can make one hell of a pie!

The Saga of the Lonely Cactus: "a Present From Kieran" Second Part

Saga of the Lonely Cactus  

Part 2:     A Present from Kieran

by Miriam McCue	


A present from Kieran came one day,
To Aunt Mikey in Alphabet City, so far away.
It was a cactus from the desert forlorn,
Complete with a red bow stuck on his thorn.

He arrived with a note which did say,
“I came to keep you company today.
I was restless in the desert.
And did want to roam.
So Kieran sent me to Manhattan,
Far away from home.”

Mikey then stated, “This is really great!
Now I’ll not be alone, early nor late.
I’ll go get the Super to help take you upstairs”
An then she ran up, unawares.

Along came a wino with a shopping cart,
He stole the cactus to pawn it, 
At the Greenwich Village Mart.
He stumbled and mumbled,
“First, I think,
I’ll go and find a good stiff drink.

He pulled up the cart and put the cactus inside, 
And took the scared plant to the Lower East Side.
It was strange and scary.
It fill the cactus with fear.
He cried, “I’m sorry I left the desert for here!

I want to go back to my home far away,
In fact, I want to leave TODAY !

(To be continued)

The Saga of the Lonely Cactus: Introduction of Characters. First Part

The “Saga” of the Lonely Cactus 

by Miriam McCue


Introduction:
:
Characters in order of appearance:

Lonely Cactus: He is a  6 foot Saguaro cactus with two arms (kind that looks like a man from 
a distance.)    (In real life these cacti have to be around 75 years old to get an arm.) 

Kieran - My granddaughter

Aunt Mikey - My youngest daughter

Alphabet City - Part of the Lower East Side of NYC

Desert - This refers to desert surrounding Phoenix AZ

Manhattan - Name for the island of NYC, not including Brooklyn, Queens, etc.

Super - Nickname for the superintendent of a tenement or apartment building.

Assorted city street characters - Anonymous

Greenwich Village - West of the Lower East Side NYC

Lower East Side - Part of NYC ( name of it describes where it is)

Alphabet City - Part of the Lower East Side of NYC
	
Assorted city street characters -  Anonymous

Central Park -  Large man-made park in Center of NYC

  Big Apple -  Nickname for NYC

   U.P.S - A delivery service (In poem pronounced by letters, no as “up sss” )	

   Casino - We all know what that is.

Donald Trump - Famous prominent  business man

• Short Greenwich Village Poems
• Famous Greenwich Village Poems
• Best Greenwich Village Poems
• Read Greenwich Village Poems
• Long Greenwich Village Poems
• Greenwich Village Quotes