Old urban legend,
trapping the murder within;
Don’t approach the house.
Urban Lengend
His name is only whispered, his face is hardly seen
A legend to everyone that grew up on these streets
Some called him a vigilante, some called him a Saint
He carried out justice using his enemies blood as paint
He had his code of conduct that most men abided by
And if you chose to break it then you just chose to die
Walking alone in the shadows searching for those who dared
His loneliness so apparent but his thoughts went unshared
His true name never known, everyone just called him The Clover
He made the streets of Boston safe before the night was over
Safe from the violence of murderers, thugs, and all the creeps
He made it so all the children weren't too scared to fall asleep
Police were always asking where can this Mr. Clover be found
They received only silence for no one dared mutter a sound
Many years have past since The Clover has been seen around
His memory lives in stories still whispered throughout Bean Town
04/28/17
written for poetry contest: Urban Legend
He lurks within the wooded paths
And blends right in with the trees
Your dreams will manifest his wrath
And in your room this man you'll see
If he should ever capture you
You'll definitely come to harm
He'll ask of you a question too
Get it right and he'll break your arms!
Perhaps it pays to be smart
For if you get the question wrong
He'll rip out your very heart!
Your suffering wont be long
If in your dreams he should appear
Run as fast as you can
For he is someone to be feared
They call him, Slender Man
4/25/17
Urban Legend
Standing like the Gibraltan rock
On the corner of the block
Come rain, wind, sleet or snow
Back and forth he did go
A passion of forty years
Always a smile, never tears
Protector of the young and green
On the streets, the streets so mean
Always there without a doubt
The lollipop man, the kids would shout
The urban legend, Sid, the lollipop man
Always alert, forever looking
The guardian of the zebra crossing
Thank you Sid for being there
We know our kids are in good care
A friend went missing,
I didn’t believe it was true,
They say she was kissing,
A boy whose fear she knew.
A friend went missing,
They say she was far away,
Safe and reminiscing,
In a charity shelter one day.
A friend went missing,
They say a girl was drowned,
Face down with water hissing,
Slight waves swirling around.
A friend went missing,
They say a body was found,
Natural causes dismissing,
Covered with dirt in a mound.
A friend went missing,
I know not what to believe,
For so long I was wishing,
Only my friend to retrieve!
Two teens shoveling snow that February day,
wanting to hurry up so they could play,
quickly shoveling heaping piles of snow,
into an open 1935 NYC manhole,
Seeing something move down in the hole,
both teens thought "holy mole!"
yelling theres a gator down in there,
wanting to help it out they showed little fear,
Getting a clothesline they helped drag it out,
an 8 foot alligator with a toothy snout,
loosening the line the gator snapped,
while the teens were busy watching their backs,
But both boys were taken aback by the attack,
and decided to give the gator some whacks,
both killing it with their work snow shovels,
whereupon the gator didn't give them anymore trouble,
Now in NYC every February 10th,
the people are reminded of how that day was spent,
with a bronze gator pulling a man down in the manhole,
a quirky subway commemoration reminder for one and all.
4-6-17
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