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Best Poems From
CHARLES M. MOORE
(1953 june)
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85.
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Downtrodden alley.
From downtrodden alley we sat on the stairs
of the tenement buildings that led to nowhere
and we watched as the gangsters, the pimps, and the tramps
handed bribes to the coppers without any thanks
We were just kids, a mixture of sorts
of Spanish, Italians, Irish, and Scots
all of us vermin and not to be seen
by the people uptown who thought life was a dream
And the stench from the sewers would mix with the blood
like the guy who was shot on a wink and a nod
for upsetting some Moll whose connections were grey
but life has no value where poverty plays
And the Salvation Army would march down the street
with their instruments tied to their waist on a cleat
to deter the unruly, most of all us
from stealing their trumpets and selling the brass
We would be runners for some hoodlums book
five cents on the dollar for being a crook
money invested on making a claim
with the men of importance who never had names
They demolished the alleys down where we grew
they say it's now better, it's clean and it's new
where the streets are all empty and crime is quite scarce
but memories are strong of our life on the stairs.
Charles M. Moore
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86.
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Dream Sweet Dreams
Slumber slumber
dream sweet dreams
and focus on what might have been
of all the loves I held at bay
dreams please let them out to play
Take me to a higher plain
of magic worlds that won't refrain
to let me see and let me do
the things in life I wanted too.
Charles M. Moore
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87.
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Dreams and kisses
She sent him dreams and kisses
he mumbled every line
just folded scraps of paper
he read time after time
he hoped she would forgive him
for leaving her alone
a consequence of modern age
when working far from home.
Charles M. Moore
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88.
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Food for thought
They say in Egypt lived a man
who dined on cheese and pickled ham
and once he ate a caravan
including horse and camel
He ate all night and ate all day
and all the people ran away
fearing they would soon be pray
to masticating ecstasy
He went down to the market cross
consuming all he came across
and then when finished at a loss
he ate himself with apple sauce.
Charles M. Moore
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