Mr Corner Man

Mr. Corner Man

"I sing each day one step at a time"
sung the corner man down to his last dime
and if life hadn't rewarded him as an honest man
I would've kept on walking and avoided his tin can
of wrinkled dollar bills and rusty spare change
and an old duffel bag he kept at close range

Old, tired and defeated, down on his luck
Mr. Corner man never begged anyone for a buck.
He was admired and praised for his strong skill,
never ignored or disregarded but still
no one could imagine life in his shoes --
hum his tune or sing his blues

But people listened, for that's all he cared
Plucking strings from an old guitar, the music prepared
was the harmony of his heart filled with appreciation,
a soulful melody well worth any donation.
When all was over, applause was heard from the grateful.
Rattled and shook up, Mr. Corner man was thankful.

Tarringo T Vaughan

http://tarringovaughan@blogspot.com

I Broke up With Poetry

by Tarringo T Vaughan


I broke up with poetry this morning,
now I'm sitting here in shame
i've should've known better, now nothing
around me is the same;
I threw those verbs and metaphorical phrases
down on the floor
packed up those similes and verses
and kicked them right out the door.
Now I'm sitting in misery because part of me
is gone.

I thought I had enough of the lyrical rhyming
playing around with my mind,
the word play and complex symbolism
in all ambiguity well defined ;
And I thought I had enough
of descriptive words
chirping tunes into my imagination
like jubilant early morning birds,
but all I feel is a lost because part of me
is withdrawn

I'm already missing
all those long walks in the park
bonded by the hand of irony;
cuddling with inspiration all the
nights alone we've embarked.
And I will never forget
our waltz with meter creating words that danced
a production of refrain,
the layers of meaning enhanced.
Now I'm sitting here distraught because part of me
I've begone.

Sipping on this half empty glass of rhetoric,
damn near drunk off literary prose, I realize…
breaking up with poetry this morning
was very juvenile
It's a relationship meant to be,
now I must reconcile!