silence heard before the crash...Black Thursday October 24th, 1929
Vagabond Rogue in the richness of rags… A speakeasy sap of whom all he did razz. Investing his scratch in the market of dreams… Living the jazz age of get rich quick schemes.
Shelling out clams whenever he could… On every dumb Dora who’d put out the goods. “Everything’s Jake!” he would say with a smile… “The twenties are it!” in his Hemmingway style.
Whose writings of fame with an interest in bulls… Of not the same market for speculate fools. Who doled out the dollar investing in stock… Of Tin Pan’s and Alleys let George do it talk.
One calendar Monday sockdolager skies… What goes up…comes down in the blink of an eye. Zozzled thoughts held of prohibited dreams… Became serious upchuck ‘mongst dewdropper screams.
The tell off and sell off was now to appear… As darker clouds rolled in Black Tuesday was here. The roaring was silenced the twenties now dead… For something much greater was up just ahead.
With windows held open the rubes they did fly… And there were yet some who would jump and then die. This rummy of era now killjoy and spent… Would leave his mooch lifetime upon the cement.
With Thursday’s noir face came one of exchange… When shares bought in Steel… by a Whitney gave range. To faint bit of hope for the old word forlorn… The ticker was ticking depression was born.
The years they have passed but there seems to remain… A teardrop of yesteryear still on the pane. Of up and down lines in this market of tags… For the Vagabond Rogue in the richness of rags.
"...For the Vagabond Rogue
in the richness of rags." What a way with words you have!!! I remember this period as my mom was an avid CNN fan. This poem is rich, unfortunately I can't say that for the vagabond.
Talk about a "history poem" Wow! This is superb. Complete with so many of the period words and terms, I didn't even know. Masterful strokes from your "wandering rogue" of a pen! One never knows where you and it will strike next! You and Reg (Auffray) have that in common. He's like that too.
WOW!!! for a younghster you got a grip on facts a feelings from the crash and its aftermath.
Not only economies came crashing, but things taken for granted, vanities and pedestals, suddenly depression came and everybody was poor. The scars of yesterday should have teach us something.
But we continue to be the Vagabond Roges without seeing tomorrow.
Great poem!
Georg
A most interesting depiction of a piece of history that not too many will ever forget. So vivid and in such detail, you do the day justice in this write...
Wow!
Awesome! This write is up there with the big masters. I love it! let me read more like this John. This is yout niche in poetry...history.
Love,
Susan
Great epitapf on an age I lived through and saw one neighbor who took his own life as a result of the stock market crash. My father owned a speakeasy in those days and when prohibition ended he opened a beer garden. Which he lost in 19039 when Jacob Ruppert a beer distributor in the Bronx foreclosed on him for late payment of a 1000 bill. My father had loaned out over 4000 dollars to friends to help them save their homes but could not get any back so he lost the store. They were not good times but people were fairly happy as everybody was in the same boat.
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on September 24, 2007
A little history lesson in the guise of a rouge that couldn't pass up a deal, and the word sockdolager was priceless. At first I thought it had been made up until I checked. Dewdropper, now that one is elusive, so I'm guessing you done madeitup . . . Wonderful write . . .
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
My book of poetry is being redone by me, I have a beautiful cover designed and the book will have a few more than 200 poems in it. I am going to have it printed on demand here in Canada. When it is done I will let you know when it is done and if anyo
Questions, unquestioned discoveries, and answers in parable and rhyme…. This collection records a journey starting with a 1960s retrospective and the first man on the moon, moving to a new millennium welcomed in with a terrorist spin, family crises,
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in the richness of rags." What a way with words you have!!! I remember this period as my mom was an avid CNN fan. This poem is rich, unfortunately I can't say that for the vagabond.
Regis
Love,
ET
Newfie Hugs, Rose
Not only economies came crashing, but things taken for granted, vanities and pedestals, suddenly depression came and everybody was poor. The scars of yesterday should have teach us something.
But we continue to be the Vagabond Roges without seeing tomorrow.
Great poem!
Georg
Be safe,
Karen
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
My very best regards
Chris
Awesome! This write is up there with the big masters. I love it! let me read more like this John. This is yout niche in poetry...history.
Love,
Susan
The inclusion of "old" words of that era give this poem an honest depiction of what happened. A brillian poem for a terribly black day.
Kathy