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Monument
by David R Spellman
Scar-faced Johnny taps an anxious vein
injects it deep with the horseman's train
drifts along upon its dulling haze,
mindless nights and sleep-filled daze
Bus-stop Sallie gots her dancin' moves
fills her day with shakin' grooves
musical earmuffs help lose her track
of children left between the crack
And on the corner the hookers ply
their traded wares with passersby
none left to see the daylight come
'cept alley rats and some ol' bum
who sleeps among the wreckage there
on cardboard mattress, with matted hair.
The waking city stretches unconcerned
newspapers wait, for the page is turned
Ol' George rests upon his lofty stool
marbled fountains help to keep his cool
gazes out upon this urban sprawl
gladdened now he'd never seen it all
I'd swear he looked when I passed by
and thought for sure that in his eye
though weather-stained now many a year
there dropped from it a sorrowed tear
When made it home I locked the door
deepening shadows crossed the floor,
drew the curtains to shut out the night
in hopes to block the city's blight
Early to bed I crept that eve
in hopes that sleep would soon relieve
images that in my mind did mesh
hewn from forms of decaying flesh
04/12/2004 Posted on 04/17/2004
Copyright © 2026 David R Spellman
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Mary Ellen Smith on 04/17/04 at 11:32 PM ooooo...good one David! So vibrant in a monochomatic sort of way! You set the tone perfectly in this piece. |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 04/19/04 at 03:29 AM Well done Dave, well done....Charlie |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 04/19/04 at 11:45 AM Powerful message in this excellently written poem. It is particular meaningful to me because a friend of mine has been making his "home" more or less with the "homeless" the last several months. He has introduced me to a side of life I have not seen. It is so very, very sad! Richard has been somewhat of a gadfly to the "city fathers" in attempting to get more assistance in the way of shelter and means of hygiene for these homeless folk. |
| Posted by Anne Howe on 04/19/04 at 12:48 PM 21st century poetry at its best both in style and subject |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 04/19/04 at 06:18 PM You may not post a lot of poems, but when you do, they're humdingers! Powerful capture Dave. |
| Posted by Graeme Fielden on 04/19/04 at 10:42 PM Amazing writing Dave. You've captured a city's story with insight and eloquence that danced along like a song of protest from the 60's. Well done Sir! |
| Posted by JD Clay on 04/21/04 at 02:29 AM This is a well-turned, street wise depiction of urban bohemia in graphic detail, Dave. Just reading it kinda makes you want to take a bath. Good stuff!
Pe4ce... |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 04/21/04 at 02:49 AM Much tragedy in the urbs, and you capture it artfully. The rhyme somehow makes the reading of the pain a little easier, like taking some water with the strong medicine. Great poem Dave, it was obviously a work of love and took some time. It is gratifying to read such a carefully wrought cration. |
| Posted by Mike Loftis on 09/01/04 at 02:53 AM This is a brilliantly written piece. Standing O |
| Posted by Kris Mara on 06/01/09 at 03:42 PM you paint it well...the flow is so great in this...it's intelligent rhyming (I think I say that too much, but it's the best way I can think to describe it)...and clever word usage... |
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