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Poetry

Vibrant Street Scenes: Observing of Performers and Passersby

By One Comment3 min read

along the cobbled way

clasping pick & mix candy cup
trying to keep my balance
along the cobbled way,
it’s a dreary afternoon,
busy as usual
many people coming & going –

but one man strums a guitar,
a fair haired guy singing
love love me do
turned my head

& a slim lady –
wiry long hair grasping
a large lambrusco bottle –
the cheap wine almost empty
dances –
lifting her feet –
arms flailing as she twirled.

i watched the moment
along the cobbled way
then pass through the throng
trying to keep my balance
clasping pick & mix candy cup,
many people coming & going –

& as i approach the entrance
to the main shopping center
michael jackson booms
& a black male
in his twenties dancing
proper choreographed moves.

so i stop & watch with four people
soaking it up
& he’s moving – beat it blasting
& as more people gather –
quite a number
take out their cellulars & record.

i can’t help but notice
his 90’s bomber jacket –
his grey sweat bottoms look worn,
& sneakers trod a million miles.

between his routines he switches
from baseball cap to fedora hat,
from bomber jacket
to creased t-shirt underneath.

some pacing past
wear frowned faces & a gentleman
in a pin-striped suit
stops in belief that this guy is crazy –
furiously shakes his head
& continues with his life.

but more people gather
& among the crowd
most are smiling
as the black man dances
grinding – jerking – flipping.

then he stops & rests on
the soaked wooden bench behind,
paused &
grabbed a microphone.

his mumble was scarcely legible
but i caught
“i am an entertainer
as you can see!”
& most in the crowd start laughing.

his mumble was scarcely legible
but i caught
“a bit of dancehall for you now.”

more take out their cellulars
others bop their heads
to the rhythm & my heart warms,
he energizes the crowd

but i have to go.
as he thrusts into his next routine
he switches
from baseball cap to fedora hat
from bomber jacket
to creased t-shirt underneath

i dip into my pocket –
clasping pick & mix candy cup
i approach a small holdall
meters ahead

& am met
by a blue eyed blonde girl
maybe 9 years old –
we generously throw our coins in
& i depart feeling lifted.

Poem: Tranquility and Disruption: Observations in the Night

Skendong

Author Skendong

Metamorphosing Clunky Narratives

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