Their hands are cracked 
and folded like tents
on the park's stone table.

The dealer sings the cards out –

this one a Jack, he never went back
this one a Queen, she waits
this one her King, a Diamond
this pair twins, Deuces born light.
This one their dark mother
this one the son killed by his wife.
 
La Vida is hard –
Clubs
and Spades –
their days the fields
or spent carrying brick.
The years away
a long song
patient
and brown.

Joking, laughing,
but with dignity,
they bury sorrow
like secrets
and play their cards –
throw away some
keep others like shovels
in the sheds their hands make.

As I walk over,
they jerk their heads up,
and then down,
their workhorse smiles almost neighing
as if to say,
“Mister, what's next?”


- John Barrale

John, this has a great original ring to it, and I enjoyed it very much! Opening S and the "bury their sorrows" sections just wonderful.
Two distractions: S3 maybe missing a comma at "light" (or remove all the commas at lines' ends?) And after  Diamonds, Spades, Clubs, I was looking for Hearts.
--Tom

John,

A quick thought on the opening.
Back later after a another read.

Maggie

Their hands are cracked, folded
like tents on a park table.

Hi Tom:

Thanks much!!! I like your suggestion about removing the commas at the line ends in the stanza where the cards are being dealt. I will post a revision using your idea in a second.

Sorry, but couldn't work the hearts in. Tried several approached but no go.

I need an opinion good sir, if you will:

Would you remove "almost" in the last stanza (L4)?

I can't make up my mind if the line works better with it or without it.

Best Always,
John
       

Removing "almost," no. If you took "almost" I think you would have to take "neighing" too, which would change the light of the poem significantly, maybe in a way you like, maybe not.

Hear you about "heart". Not a word you can toss in anywhere. I admire your restraint there, John!

Tom

Hi Maggie:

Thank you. I will consider it. I originally had "stone" in front of "table" in the 1st stanza's last line. I think it sounded better and was there because many of the parks here have square tables with rough, gravely, single pedestals made of concrete that support gray slate-like stone table tops. But I removed it as I thought that the meaning would be lost to someone not familiar with this type of park table.

Best Always,
John  

Hi Tom:

Thanks again!!!

I agree - "almost" stays. I wasn't quite sure if the line's meaning was clear - but your answer convinced me that it was.

Best Always,
John

I admire all in this poem.  ld

I'd put stone back in, J.

J, I'm liking this very much.  I can totally identify with the last 2 stanzas; I've done day labor.  Very well done sir.

Tiko

Hi Lynn:

Thanks!!!

Best Always,
John

Hi Maggie.

Thanks. I did, just now.

Best Always,
John

I have read "their workhorse smiles" both ways --seems like a 50/50 to me, John -- but either way it reads well. Tom

Hi Tiko:

Thanks. I'm glad you liked the poem. I never did day labor. Back in the late 1960's, when I first lived on my own and went to college, I was forced to support myself, when I did the unthinkable (for an Italian son in those times)  and decided to leave home to live on my own. I had a series of jobs such as busboy, NYC taxi driver and loading trucks on a warehouse loading dock.

I did meet some interesting people but quickly became disavowed of the "romantic" notion that this type of labor was uplifting. It was hard work for little pay in a very unforgiving world. Everyone was your boss and most people looked down on you for the type of work you did. It served as a good dose of reality that everyone should self-medicate with at least once in their lifeimes to see how fortunate we really are.

These days on the corners of many U.S. towns you see a lot of men from Guatemala and Ecuador standing out there in the mornings waiting to be hired as day laborers - primarily for small nonunion contractors and landscapers.They come to the U.S to work the jobs no one wants to do and unfortunately are pretty much exploited and not afforded the protection and benefits that most Anglo and mainstream laboreres get (Social Security, unemployment benefits, health care, etc..

I can only imagine what they go must go through as they aren't running away from a somewhat middle class home as I did  but trying to survive and feed their families many of which are back in their home countries.  

I sincerely hope my poem did not sound patronizing. I wanted to try and capture a little of what their lives must be like. Unfortunately, to many they are just workhorses. Don't know what else to say.

Best Always,
John  


  

            

John,

It did not sound patronizing at all.  It spoke to the humility required.  It's hard being proud in a line of men trying to find work.

My experiences were as a member of the International Longshoreman's Assoc.  Every morning, before anything was awake, we would drag ass down to the "local" and stand there waiting to see if we would get selected to work that day.  Most were happy to get 2 days a week, unless you were part of the union.

Fortunately, I was doing it before I went to college.  But, others were looking to feed there families, like my pops.  And, as the saying goes, sometimes you just got to do what you have to do. 

Great poems.  Thanks for the considered response.

Tiko