Short Balladeer Poems

Short Balladeer Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Balladeer by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Balladeer by length and keyword.


Stale Rum

Under the wind 
of an electric fan
the old balladeer sounds 
like a tired man,
blinks his bleary eyes 
as fast as he can;


breath reeks of nicotine 
and of stale rum,
crooning his song 
with a gravelly hum,
the captive audience gossips 
and chews gum!
Form: Rhyme


My Life In the Letter "b" Dedicated To Mary

Blissfully, Blessed
Blithely, Brilliant
Blatantly, Brave
Bipedal, Biographer
Bilingual, Bibliolater
Beyond, Blasphemy
Before, Bespectacled
Benevolent, Benignity
Bending, Belly laugh
Betraying, Beelzebub
Betrothed, Beau
Bearded, Baritone
Barbate, Banjoist
Baptized, Balladeer
Badinage, Banter

The Coarse Crooner

.


The old balladeer sounds 
       like a tired man.
Under the wind of an 
       electric fan,
he blinks his bleary eyes 
       as fast as he can.


His breath reeks of tobacco 
       and stale rum.
As he hiccups through songs with 
       a coarse hum,
the drunken audience gossips 
       and chews gum.

.

Premium Member Adios Don Vicente

Chente—mi amigo, compadre, hermano
Troubadour of our pain untold
Minstrel of our abandoned souls
Keeper of our traditions bold

So loved by La Virgen de Guadalupe
That she took you on Her day
Now heaven’s honored balladeer
For Her now, you may play

You leave us with our sorrow
Our inconsolable despair
So, with a soft prayer on our lips
We plead—Volver!  Volver!
Form: Epitaph

White Oak, Red Oak

Oh, mournful, mountain balladeer,
Your plaintive, mountain song
Comes aching through
The tender evening sadness.
"White oak, red oak!
White oak, red oak!"
Oh, whippoorwill,
My soul echoes your sorrow.
         
Oh, spokesman for the broken heart,
Who taught you your refrain?
So eloquent your voice
Of soulful yearning!
"White oak, red oak!
White oak, red oak!"
I join you in your
Summer night's repining.
Form:


Wild Pleasures

You must love me sideways,
Desert island of poetry and lace
Embroided inside the fleshy
Tunes of the drunken balladeer.
The overcast day, my warm soul
Inside the cold bed of gloom,
Comes to inhabit the sunny side
Of your world, cracking the whip
Of the edgy tales of tomorrow.
Sane for me, insane for you,
Choose a picky battle to ruin,
With the gaze that turns me
Defenseless as Scheherazade,
Before the storytelling squad.
© Witty Fay  Create an image from this poem.

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