Living on Main Street
life keeps on flowing,
Monday mornings
trucks pound the pavement
shaking awake the apartments and homes
regardless of the hour, ever on the ride
moving, trucking along.
Here, you can see the world go by
at its best, at its worst,
Sleepers on the street wake
pushed along by ignoring crowds
rushing, hurrying to and from
home to work
work to home.
Where do they come from
where was their place in life before this?
Parked cars give up their time
metering's expire
they move on
just a little down the line
or just across to the other side.
So many now
make this their home,
Wanderers, wanderings, survival
from the havens that once were
to this point
a journey taken up
by necessity, loss of hope, help for the body and the soul.
This is Main Street living
on the threshold of future pasts.
Ferry on the river;
‘Copter in the sky.
Bicycles and scooters
(Some with bells!) all pass me by.
Joggers pound the pavement;
Walkers simply stroll.
Benches are deserted.
(Recent raindrops took a toll.)
Still, I’m out here sitting,
Checking out the scene,
Feeling not quite up or down
But somewhere in between.
As my trusty pencil
Jots each thought upon a line,
It helps record reflections
Found within this mind of mine.
Parades prepared for pleasure and pageantry.
Phalanx of performers pound the pavement;
percussion sets the pace; piccolos lead.
Princes and princesses pass by on floats;
painted clowns pantomime, making kids smile
Patient pedestrians peddle their wares while
policemen patrol the streets for problems.
Patrons and parents pack the parking spots
peeling their eyes for a parader they know.
Politicians pitch peppermints and promises.
Parades leave us pleased but played-out.
written March 27, 2018
contest: Silent One's, Alliteration
Walk along the river bank, lined with poplar trees,
Listen to the birds that sing their sweet melodies,
Mothers pushing strollers pause, to the humming bees,
A juggler keeps balls aloft, while on bended knees,
On the pond, pompous swans gracefully glide with ease,
Men in caps, meet on benches, enjoying coffees,
Children feed corn to hungry ducks, with quacking pleas,
Couples stroll the promenade, smiling in the breeze,
Picnickers open baskets of fruit, wine and cheese,
Playful dogs off leashes, catching flying frisbees,
Joggers pound the pavement, in shorts and sporty tees,
A beautiful day, to bask in eighty degrees.
January 15, 2017 Monorhyme for contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
An opinion falling like rain
Cascading over everything
A center point of chaotic felony
Delete your voice
They're coming for you again
Pound the pavement
Pound on the walls
There's nowhere to go
They know the way it flows
Paste pastel words over your mouth
When everything goes south
Those words aren't your own
They're prettied up lies
Spat by the callous kind
An intricate existence built up
By a foundation of broken verse
A wobble here and a wobble there
Everything is falling apart
There's nowhere for you to restart
Dodge the bullets, dodge the train
Your chest erupts in pain
Perhaps all this was in vain
And you'll slowly go insane
The words are falling all around you
Drenching your clothes and your mind
There's no escape from the apes
So tape over the paper cuts
Blossoming in your heart
Just don't be afraid
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