Long Buskers Poems

HEROES

Near somber guards, units of children heap 
dead leaves, naive to any else fallen.
Friend, you chuckle, but your posture speaks
of duty on this day of contradictions.

Firefighters bow heads in silent paean, 
while polished trucks stand...

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London

The tour of London begins
 In the streets of my mind,
  Through past and present
   Intrinsically entwined,
    Through people and places
     It's heart we will...

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now this is not a poem but more of a short story if you are expecting a poem this is not one, but please feel free to read my story. it will make you think...

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Round 1: New York won!
By Brett Somers
Written 10-13-2018

Like a ghost in the shadows
New York
People and places and vaporware faces
New York
Experience of magnitude
To have everything in the world
Yet what at all?
Transient position
Always moving 
New York
Cool spots,...

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The little servant upon the motley colored stead riding the ironic militant donkey           
Lowering the wit a marotte lance raising the shield a stone of...

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Disheveled and dirty she sat 
A guy walking by just spat 
It caught her off guard as she wiped it away 
Wanted to move but decided to stay

She looked forlorn and beat 
Begging for a...

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Market stall sellers, spewing out cheap tat, for bargain hunting peabrains parting with their cash; items disintegrating from one single use.

City traders impress with tall tales of the day, lapping up each others crap enjoying...

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Like concrete fingers, 
Stretching high,
So many jagged teeth,
Upon the sky.

Their electrical beacons,
Fill up the night,
With their vivid multi colours,
Shining very bright.

Old and new side by side,
Blending in a pot,
Buildings here of every kind,
Some that time...

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when you doze and slumber
you drift into streets of 
vagabond dreams:
street artist and soothsayers
begging for a 'dream a penny', 'five for a dollar',
buskers, who play reminiscences,
palm readers and wrinkle whisperers,
fortune tellers with smokey crystal balls,
clowns...

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When I woke up this morning,
I felt hopeful, eager, positive and calm.
I was going to teach myself to juggle, 
Tossing balls from palm to palm.

I’d admired street performers perform their tricks,
On the corners of every...

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Buskers

So much fluff
And not enough
Of the real stuff
That life is made of.

Buskers in parks and on corners
Play for money and exposure,
And liven up drab quarters
By entertaining onlookers.

Slow down life’s pace,
Hesitate and listen
To these street musicians,
And...

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Relic of a raucous night's revel
In an empty shop doorway
Stands a solitary cider bottle sentinel

Bundles of bedding. Beneath 
Huddles a barely visible body
Whom I have to skirt around

Shop windows blacked out and blinded
With nothing to...

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They, the invisible manipulators
that speak for us all,
they called us 'the people'.

Some went seeking Big Foot,
we needed a sasquatch, a mentor.
Some tried hallucinogens,
others called it a day too soon.

Snicker bars were getting smaller,
there was much...

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The garrulous, Greek grape gatherers,
Joined joyously with jocund japes,
The olive pickers and Ostrich plucker’s,
Celebrating the seasons success in song.

The querulous quiver of musical quavers,
From a quorum of quality wine quaffer’s
Reverberated robustly round the room,
And resonated...

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