POETRY BREAK #14 : "HOPE" A Beat Bongo Tone Poem (With Audio!)

HOPE
by
SKID ROPER
[Richard Banke, 1954-present]

Described by the author as "A word-slingin' beat poem about not giving up!"
[audio clip at bottom...]

One bent and weary one-eyed jack sifting for a hand
Two silvery sentinel statuettes serenade the band
Three therapeutic theramins still pray for a downbeat
Four old tarnished trolley tracks poke up through the street
Five jewel encrusted scepters hidden in a pouch
Six left over Lincoln Logs lost inside the couch
Seven stolen golden idols under the dynamo
Eight unheard of brothers of Curly, Shemp and Moe

HOPE
 
Nine unscrupulous goldsmiths overcharge the meek
Ten fair weekend weather girls foretell it twice a week
Eleven modern Maji muse, now too wise to fool
Twelve tired tricycle tires at the bottom of the pool
Thirteen tardy ticket takers, some, left in the lurch
Fourteen swingin southern bells a-pealing in the church
Fifteen basalt blue bathespheres off to plumb the sea
Sixteen of Mother Theresa's kids seek rock and roll, part three

HOPE

Seventeen multi colored marbles scattered in the dirt
Eighteen hologramic hobos too systemized to hurt
Nineteen gone glissandos glide in the land of midnight lies
Twenty mad midget wrestlers scare up a big disguise
Twenty one empty corncribs disregard the facts
Twenty two city sidewalks simply lead to cul de sacs
Twenty three darkened dervishes' spin for all the world to see
Twenty four hours a day I dream of wingless victory

HOPE

Twenty five framed fatalists lay in state beside the moor
Twenty six fiends in freight cars wont be wondering what for
Twenty seven sad DeSotos sit way out by the power lines
Twenty eight well read librarians calculating unpaid fines
Twenty nine black leather satchels with tanned and tasseled tips
Thirty Nehru straightjackets with matching Freudian slips
Thirty one suave suburbanites do more than laws allow
Thirty two true believers sing behind the gospel plow

HOPE  

Thirty three lucky losers leave mis-quoting Aura Lee
Thirty four future ex-wives pray out at the fever tree
Thirty five bad bold buccaneers sharpening their swords
Thirty six half-hollowed logs play augmented chords
Thirty seven stairway steps made from discarded pews
Thirty eight fists of fury fly making page six news
Thirty nine three card monte rubes with clouded optic nerves
Forty poetasters scat - basting straights and curves

HOPE

Forty one cunning racers stop and pose for all to watch
Forty two pistoleros report carving one more notch
Forty three divining rods waiting for the call
Forty four brown basket weavers sit in front of city hall
Forty five wishful thinkers jog heading for the coast
Forty six jackhammers peal to promote the Holy Ghost
Forty seven laughing lemmings just can't see the thirteenth floor
Forty eight self-fulfilling prophets saunter through the door

HOPE 

Forty nine restless ne'er-do-wells try to scam the mall
Fifty curious coyotes wailin' at Waylon Jennings' wall
Fifty one flagrant semaphores now carpeting the van
Fifty two troubled truants get a Death Valley desert tan
Fifty three venus flytraps bloom alluring without fail
Fifty four blind sightseers collate return to sender mail
Fifty five lawn jockeys standing blameless in the cove
Fifty six holy scapulars left in a filbert grove

HOPE

Fifty seven gray bowery rats, set for a dumpster full
Fifty eight capricious cads crash a midwest tractor pull
Fifty nine nighttime glory hounds just repacked their bags
Sixty cans of goose grease obscure the shoeshine rag
Sixty one partial Greecian urns from the Punic War
Sixty two preacherless parables stashed behind the outhouse door
Sixty three smoldering oracles, stoked and kept alive
Sixty four bars of Soul Supreme on Gladiola Drive

HOPE!!

PEACE