Long Bronx Poems

Science can’t save you, neither can religion,
at least Popper and Niebuhr, philosophers and poets,
are entertainers, which is why actors and athletes
are paid so much. Thanks for the summaries.
I was teaching Shakespeare’s 92nd ridiculous sonnet
to my...

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I have been trying to pen this verse for the past two weeks but
Someone was standing in my way and my mind went astray
Can’t you see that it is a brand new day?
Winter has subsided...

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Kind Of Blue (For Miles Davis)

Woodlawn Cemetery, Bronx Ny 1991


Before they could lower Miles 
into the damp, dark ground
Two of the PALL BEARERS
Thought they heard musical sounds

Before the Preacher could say
Turn your BiblesTo Acts, 
The...

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His wise council and kind patience bolstered my resolve
to overcome my youthful woes and nightmarish troubles solve.
His humanity may have saved my life. His memory I hold dear.
But whenever the name Mister James arose—
Other kids...

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THE GREATEST GENERATION
by

JOHN M. ARRIBAS



Many Have Called Them the Greatest Generation
They Had Struggled and Survived, an Ugly Depression
It Was an Era of Hard Times and Simple Diversions
Like Bank Night, Singalongs  and Picnic Excursions
Band Concerts...

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I’m sure you don’t remember me
Yet forever branded upon my memory is your evil spree
I was far from your only victim
You and your pack bullying ever so gruesome 

You first noticed me in the 7th...

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Stained Glass Scarlet, Scarlet Fasinera  . . .  a fictional character
          a vigilante haunting the streets of the Bronx
     ...

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It was one solemn, long night,
Tenebrous with the astuteness of perfidy,
And multiple hours before the break of an
Impatient dawn.
Lampposts froze through the pergola of winter.
Limp from exposure to unprintable tales of orgies,
And their lights, hidden...

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Learning disabled, hopelessly unemployed
Troy can't write the address for his next interview.
Warehouse stock, 331 Tiffany Street, in the Bronx.
His girlfriend, Trinity, also unemployed,
with one child by Troy. She's more resourceful
but doesn't realize it. For one...

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Stan the Man--Stan Lee a DEDICATION

He who that says that he is I am
I am Stan the man
Stanley Martin Lieber was born on December 28, 1922,
In Manhattan, New York City,
n the apartment of his Romanian-born...

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let me be honest
 i can’t help but do my white girl dougie
and my half assed twerk
when i hear i tight beat
because my mind is hooked 
on hip-hop and this culture 
so stereotyped with hood...

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A street beat… no, a clave/ not just one, but a chorus of Cuban souls, whispering stories of sun-drenched streets/ sugar cane rum, and women of the streets/ Conga lines in the neighborhood/ Fidel Castro...

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i just want to write some new shii
not on some i wish i was rich tip 
but on some if i ruled the world shii
wouldn't be no school you had to pay for
 last time...

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Pulled on the parka, and turned my face to the cold street.
Half running, half slipping, piece of toast hangin' from my mouth..
man oh man am I late...

Two and half blocks south down Jerome to the...

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7/19/2019
This darkness is all I know, 
a widow's wardrobe of funeral clothes.
It hangs curtained under my eyes, 
the seed inside me grows allowing the little girl I was to die.

Insomniac sleep walking down the streets,...

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While listening to Schumann’s “Arabesque” 
and “Fantasiestüche” for the Mozart B flat Sonata,
I feel the warmth and love that’s powerful within;
a moment of instrospection, a source of intervention.

I live in a wonderful country, beautiful and...

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(spotlight hits center stage. A figure approaches, casual, confident. He grabs the mic, James Brown’s defiant anthem “Say It Loud- I’m Black and I’m Proud” 
fades into the background.) The crowd goes silent, the stage...

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Do you think I care 
For your phony Arab spring
And dead trees and hot wind
I have never seen a spring without seed popping from the soil
I should know I am made from the dust of...

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Saloon
Squeezed between office buildings
On lower Broadway
Desolate and out of the way
Faint neon sign marks the place
For the downtown art scene.
Poetry readings on Sunday afternoons
Only the regulars show up 
Invited or not 
Some mount the stage...

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I was born, Bronx, New York, in the year 'Thirty-Nine',
   the first child with a brother who followed in time.
Ten years later, moved North, Hudson Valley, same State
   where I've settled,...

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I'm Heavier than the walls of a writers block
Hotter than a favelas summers clock 
I'm Rougher than sand paper, hanging on a carpenters sock 
Distanced like lands separated at sea
step in these 11 and a...

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The smoky clubs of thought/ where shadows dance and poets talk of truth whispered low/man, a story without end/ can you dig it, my friend/ improvisation’s the key, always unlocked in time, a jazz riff...

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I could smell the ballpark in my glove
Lose myself in the crooked sky above
Hear the roar of the crowd in my bat
Oblivious to your epitaph called stats
Dreaming a dream, called baseball

But that was all taken...

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Trying to get in the game  my whole life. 
Don't know what team I'm on. 
Which one wants me? 
Who will accept me? 
Been going to the field for 52 years and still trying...

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The Iceman the Bronx/Tony Adamo

I DIG THAT THE ICEMAN’S BACK, HITTING THE SPOKEN WORD STAGES IN THE BRONX AND THE OTHER BOROUGHS IN NEW YORK/AFTER ALL HE IS BORN AND BREAD IN DE BRONX/WORD SPITTER/...

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