blue collar poetry


Soft evening light fades into yesterday
and you… a fragment of lost rainbows
promise me the remnants of purity upon my return.

It does not bother me when, for example,
you say tomorrow will be different,
but you never explain why.

I see this as a statement of faith
……so I follow
besides, tomorrow is too far from my spot on Lexington Avenue
and the sound of your voice inspires me to believe

and carry on



The dirt stained into my hands is older than all of us.
I earned it working in a building
that was built before our parents were born.

Men…like me…
showed up at this building on a daily basis.
They gave their pound of flesh, or better,
they gave an honest day’s work
for an honest days pay.

I suppose payday then was no different from what it is now
Everyone lines up to collect their check
Everyone pays the taxman; they pay their rent, and their electric.
They put food on the table and clothes on their backs

In return they worked long hours
they worked double shifts.
They bled and they sweat.
They worked hard to meet deadlines
and deadlines are a bitch…

The dirt that stains my hands
was put there long before I came into this world.
And God willing, it will be here long after.
This way, someone like me can home after a long day
sit down at the head of their table….

and feed their family.



The pile to my left is a pile of old bills
the pile to the left of this is a pile of new ones
and one pile over is the pile of paid bills
…..but that one never seems as large as the other two.

These piles are on a desk in the corner room of my house
I consider this room to be my corner of the world.
My house is fifth in from the corner.
We live on a quiet street,
and most of the neighbors know who I am.
Some smile at me, some wave,
and some turn away as if they can’t be bothered

I have a walkway that leads to my front door
I have a mailbox at the top of my front steps
I have a driveway and a car that sits in it.

These are the things I work for.

To the right of me is a picture of my Old Man.
Beside him is a photograph of my mother.
Below is a picture of my wife and beside her
is a photograph my daughter.

These photographs I have are placed on a shelf
placed in the corner room of my house
placed in my corner of the world,
and I see this corner of the world
as well as the pictures as reasons.

These are the things I work for


Sundown fades across the New York skyline.
I stare through the window of a crowded rush hour train
with my back facing my direction of travel
and I watch with tired eyes
as the city grows distant.

And you….
like a fragment of lost rainbows
wait for me on the other end of my trip

I don’t mind when, for example
you say tomorrow will be better
even if I don’t know why…

I see this as a statement of faith
so I follow
regardless of the pain
…………….because I love you




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.