Poems for a 250th birthday

The request from the organizers of the Long Branch Poetry Festival this year was to consider presenting “historical, patriotic, non-political” materials for the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. The assignment proved more challenging than I expected. Following are the two new poems I wrote for the Fourth of July event.

Land of hopes

 

Long Branch NJ to Long Beach CA,

What a big beautiful country this USA.

Woody Guthrie sang it many years ago, 

This land is your land this land is my land,

… this land was made for you and me.

 

On huge transporters many arrived,

To this great land with many opportunities,

A true melting pot full of hope and ambition,

And the promise of freedom for us all,

Whether tired or poor or fleeing persecution.

 

Parents wanting better for their children,

Sacrificing for them to receive the education

And the skills they need to attain success

And happiness that was proving too elusive 

In the land of their own birth and youth.

 

New Americans assimilating with the old,

While adding their own flavors and sounds 

To the mosaic of this still young land,

And continuing to expand and redefine

Just what is the culture of the USA today.

 

That’s the past and present at 250 years.

But what of the next hundred or so years

For the future generations of Americans?

Are the best of times in this land behind us,

Is now what they’ll say is the good ol’ days?

 

America can continue to build its strength,

Greeting people with dreams and ambitions 

Who value our democracy and economy 

And contribute to the hope of better days

As this wonderful land continues to evolve.

 

Copyright 2026, Charles A. Bruns

 

Stamps

 

Only one country in all of the world

Could transport information of all kinds

Through its beautiful lands north to south,

East to west and up mountains down valleys

With these colorful images as the fare of passage

Since January twentieth two thousand twenty five A.D.:

 

Crab nebula, the horse, galaxy pair, sunflowers, 

Angel’s trumpets, winter landscapes, lowriders.

Luna moth, bald eagle, SpongeBob SquarePants, schooner,

U. S. flag, baby wild animals, goodnight moon, star cluster.

 

Vibrant leaves, the Appalachian Trail, American bison, dahlias, 

1794 compass rose, spiral galaxy, Route 66, American vistas.

 

Harriet Powers, Betty White, Muhammad Ali, 

Jimmy Carter, Elie Wiesel, Phillis Wheatley,

Ben Franklin, Barbara Bush, William F. Buckley, 

Allen Toussaint, and Bruce Lee.

 

Happy birthday, holiday cheer, 250 years of delivering, 

Colorado statehood, day at the beach, freshwater fishing, 

U.S. Army 250th, U.S. Navy, Marine Corps, postcrossing.

 

Treasures of the revolutionary era, 

Battlefields of the American revolution.

Powwows, summer sunset, North American soccer,

Boston stamp show, International peace, love forever.

 

And today, the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence it is,

As depicted on the very latest stamp from the US Postal Service.

 

Copyright 2026, Charles A. Bruns

 

22 Dream

 

The dreams by ‘72 were nestled in her head,

A few years after a family friend took them

For a magic carpet ride she would never forget.

“I want one, I’ll have one, someday, someway,” she said.

 

Eighty-two gave way to ‘92 and the love of a man,

Along with higher education and bills and a career,

And in due time a house, two children, and minivan,

Not merely one, not just two, but eventually three.

 

The new millennium dawned without mayhem,

And the little boys got big and left the nest.

The jobs came and went with the passing of years,

But not those dreams of the smiling little girl.

 

Life at the shore with boardwalk strolls and the beach,

Cruising along leisurely on bikes along Ocean Avenue,

Watching the river flow and all kinds of wheels,

Spinning north, south, east, west, on the roads.

 

The most magical of carpet rides emerges,

Complete with the world’s smallest bow tie.

“We can do this,” her mate declares one spring,

And begins reaching out on their computer and phone.

 

The waiting list stretches to seven months,

As the details of the dream become clearer,

Then a voice on the phone merrily announces,

“We’re ready to make your dream come true.”

 

Three months of winter later it’s a reality.

Her blue eyes stare at the long body in disbelief,

The mid-engine roars, the hard roof comes down,

And she smiles while finally driving away in her 22 Dream.

 

 

Copyright 2024, Charles A. Bruns

New Poems for the 2023 Long Branch Poetry Festival

Sea Changes

Things are not they what use to be,

It seems times are changing for the worse,

Lamented the blonde who looked too young

To be toiling 40 years at the family pharmacy 

That would be closing in just a few days.

 

Sometimes they change for the worse,

And other times they change for the better,

Offered the sad customer who has seen many changes

In over 60 years of living in old and new  neighborhoods,

To the very small comfort of the worker losing her job.

 

The home of original music closed its doors

But hope remained the new owner would reopen it

A better place with more music, drinks, and food.

But little more than a year later it was bulldozed to the ground,

Keeping everyone guessing what will be there next.

 

Maybe it will meet the same fate as the cool cafe

That was frequented at night by kids both young and old

Who downed their Dutch coffee and grilled cheese sandwiches.

So much in fact they tired the owner right out of business,

Giving way to plans for more new homes and businesses.

 

I see many of the changes in our neighborhood.

I sense the loss people feel around our world.

Why oh why fear change while also wanting things better?

The sea to our east changes every day after all,

But to it we always flock to relax and recharge.

Meeting Up at the Jersey Shore

 

I first saw you when the packed train left the station.

I watched you with your friends during the hour we traveled to the shore,

And pretended not to while talking to my buddies and trying to act cool.

When the doors opened, my legs caught up to yours and our eyes met.

 

I started talking to you and almost forgot about my friends,

And your bright smile lit up your face as we chatted with each other 

Among the throng that moved quickly and loudly toward the beach.

I whiffed the weed and saw the bottles but only cared about you that moment.

 

And the moment was soon lost as chaos broke out in the village by the sea.

There was pushing and shoving and yelling and then fights and blood.

There was drinking and smoking and then broken glass and debris on the street.

There was dancing and twerking on the boardwalk and then stomping atop cars.

 

And then just like that you were apart from me, out of sight.

I headed back to the train station and looked but could not find you.

I searched the packed platform hoping to see you again

And desperately moved from one car to the next on the train home to no avail.

 

I remember your name but never found out where you lived,

Or what you were doing during the rest of the summer,

Nor what your plans were for autumn or the rest of your life.

But I hope the two of us meet up again at the Jersey Shore.

 

 

©Copyright 2023, Charles A.  Bruns

 

The Jersey Shore's First Luxury Condominium: A Hard-to-Believe History of Harbour Mansion

I'm pleased to announce my new book, The Jersey Shore's First Luxury Condominium, a Hard-to-Believe History of Harbour Mansion, is available at no cost on Apple Books!

This ebook is an 11-part history of the nine-story, 115-unit building located on Ocean Avenue in the West End section of Long Branch. Based on the blog series I published during 2016-17 and my presentation at the Long Branch Free Public Library, this book traces the origins of the oceanfront property, the construction of the building during 1967-68, its conversion from apartments to condo units in the mid-1970s, and the changes in the building and its neighborhood over the years. It identifies many of the famous and infamous people who have shaped its colorful history well into the 21st century, and includes fascinating photos and newspaper excerpts from its storied past.

Get the ebook for free on Apple Books at:

https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-jersey-shores-first-luxury-condominium/id6448854580?ls=1

In case you are unable to access the free ebook on Apple Books, a downloadable and printable PDF file of the book is available from the Long Branch Free Public Library website's local history page or via the following link:

https://www.longbranchlib.org/_files/ugd/b3b8ff_ac68893862dd45d4959bb2571ba1403e.pdf?fbclid=IwAR2eHXKxh7UecV2J9bK4IedYiXRdZ2fzSMoD5g9giUCj50CKdpBzyoiCWw0

Seeing Clearly Now

I can see clearly now the mask has gone away 

And stopped fogging up my glasses.

I can walk down the boardwalk

While breathing in the fresh air.

I can sit down with family and friends

Close enough to clearly hear what they say.

No, the coronavirus pandemic isn’t quite over

But I can sense the end is near.

People are having fun together again

I know because I can see the smile on their faces.

We’re resuming business as usual

As more of us return to our workplaces.

The concerts have returned to the park

And the shows are coming back to Broadway.

They’re playing baseball for fans in stadiums 

And new movies in the cinema theaters.

We’re even able to see old cars along the beach

And read new poems in person for others to hear.

I can also see more clearly than ever the power of science

Applied by smart, hardworking and dedicated people.

I can also see more clearly now the value of healthcare professionals,

And the importance of those we refer to as essential workers,

Whether they have Ph.Ds or high school degrees,

Regardless of whether they are paid thousands or hundreds each week.

I can see more clearly now why we need to hug,

And why we need to be in the presence of others.

I can see more clearly the present and the now

And the gift of life we should cherish every day,

The love we should not hold back from those dear to us,

Or the care for one another we should willingly provide.

I can see clearly now the mask has gone away,

The trees seem greener, the flowers prettier,

Birds are more noticeable, the sound of the ocean louder.

People look more beautiful, simple pleasures more precious.

Can the world be a better place for us who survived

And make us more grateful than ever to be alive?

Copyright Charles A. Bruns, 2021

Love the Sea, See the Love

The boy looked out at the sea

and saw a lighthouse.

Beyond its beacon he could imagine

his home, his brother, his mother.

He loved that sea dearly.

It was a direct path to everything

he longed for, for all he missed,

and love that awaited him.

The sea was also his best friend, 

always there day and night,

bringing him all kinds of joy.

It refreshed him, it played with him,

at times it even fed him.

But the sea was also tempestuous,

dancing wickedly with stormy rains,

knocking against his door with anger,

once even climbing inside his room

and sweeping away some toys.

It was like the father he remembered,

all playful and attentive one day,

then angry and furious the next.

But the sea did not leave him. 

It returned, calmed down 

and ready to play, refresh and feed, 

like the good women in his life.

And there were many good women.

His aunt, grandmother and mother 

and others, all took turns

to bring him back to the sea.

They waded in its waters with him,

playing and laughing with joy

as he jumped the waves 

or dove under its currents,

the silky sand under his soft feet.

But none was lovelier than the one

he married and raised their family with.

Many years she would jump right in

to share in his joy of the sea,

and see the boy who was also her man.

His eyes still sparkle by the sea, 

his wife often beside him.

He likes to watch her face 

as she relaxes under the sun, 

the sound of the surf and children

playing around them.

When he closes his eyes, 

he sees the lighthouse, feels the joy.

When he opens his eyes,

he smiles and remembers how much

he still loves the sea. 

He turns to look at his wife,

and sees a love as warm as the sun.

--Charles Bruns, copyright 2017