'He's more rapist than harpist',
I joke as we approach.
We calculate the etiquette,
Of rewarding each wrong note,
I crack, and throw some shrapnel in his case.
The music stops, he lifts his face.
One useless eye,
Poking like a sea scarred stone on ravaged beach,
But ears that figure in a flash,
The sound of seventeen pence,
Cash.
Jx
Thank you for your generous comment on my blog, it was another therapeutic rant so the fact people liked it is a nice topping.
I really like this, though I agree with Gus - 17 pence?!
I'm really encouraged that someone is writing good urban poems and paying homage to our buskers. As a white collar worker I used to hear the symphony of subways and those brave enough to stick two fingers up to society not particularly having a direction but knowing the commercial option was a bad one. I remember a grizzled old boy playing a violin with needle marks through his arm that later I found out once made Daimler's. It inspired me to pen several poems on buskers so was delighted to read this well written poem on a similar experience.
A warm and accessible poem where i cared about the 2 different characters.
Hi John. Ta for the comments. Can't believe you can convey so much in a poem of 60 words. Nice one man.
Hi John,
This is (for me) dripping with succinct cynicism and the ingrained human trait of judging by first appearances. I'd like to see you write another - from the busker's point of view. Nice one.
Regards,
A.E.
Through the back door indeed Cynthia - I think we are all getting 'softer' round Christmas, judging by your other comments. You don't need me to tell you this is a gem, John. I love the sharp image of the eye 'poking like a sea scarred stone on a ravaged beach'. Beyond that I like it for its quirkiness - the fact that you can make a poem out of a little encounter and do it in so few lines. I think we've all been there wondering do I , don't I - particularly on the underground where you have the whole length of an esculator to ponder it! I am also reminded of that wonderful comedy programme Trigger Happy - have belly laughed at many a sketch on there - I remember a funny one on a particularly tuneless Sax player. BTW, 17p isn't much, but if every passer by gave it you, it would soon mount up.
darren thomas
Thu 17th Dec 2009 09:35
I like this - and any man who 'coughs' to throwing 17p into a Busker's receptacle (is that legal) shall be offered my sincere hand.
<Deleted User> (7164)
Wed 16th Dec 2009 21:16
I'm a bit of a soft touch when i hear music of the buskers. Some of them are genuinely homeless.
Threw some cash yesterday. At least he had the good grace to say thankyou which is more than can be said for a lot of other folk i give my hard earned cash to in return for goods.
Rant over.... carry on as if i weren't here. Just passing through anyway. ha ha.
Starlight.x
ps. love the poem. very topical for this time of year.
Brilliant! "We calculate the etiquette, of rewarding each wrong note". Really effective rhyme and assonance, great structure, pithy and witty.
Nice one Aikers :-). I like muchly
Mr Aikman, what a Christmas coup! It is a gem of 'brotherhood' through the back door.
Tightarse!
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Rachel Bond
Wed 24th Feb 2010 12:00
another good piece. Personally i always give to buskers as if theyre good they give life to the street..and some poor buggers are just hopeless at everything...but at least theyre trying. I'd have given him a fiver for a show of his bad eye...you ever seen the film 'big fish'? you never know when you might see deep into the witches eye and see yourself a poor man with only 17p to spare when its time to die.
great poem tho..loved it.