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

 

Fatherlands: Identities of a Cuban American

My debut book, Fatherlands: Identities of a Cuban American, is now available in print and digital formats! This memoir -- the most challenging writing project I've undertaken since first learning the English language -- is the book I was meant to write. It includes a few excerpts from my 1400 Characters blog and Facebook posts over the years. Comprised of 21 photos and 57,470 words spread over 200 pages, many English-language readers around the world will find this "memoir with a twist" interesting and informative, and perhaps more.

For more information about my book, including how to obtain a paperback copy or digital download, go to www.charleslopezbruns.com.

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

The Friendly City: No Vacancy

a poem by Charley Bruns,

featuring lyrics by David Castaño of Eastbourne

Don’t try to impress me 

by saying George Washington slept there.

We had seven presidents stay here

on vacation away from Washington.

Their names were Grant, Hayes, Harrison, 

Garfield, Arthur, McKinley and Wilson.

These presidents put Long Branch on the map,

and the crowds from New York did come.

Soon so did others in their carriages,

four-legged and iron horses to soak up the sun,

enjoy the summer breezes, walk the bluffs and just have fun.

Did I mention the Atlantic Ocean?

Not too many cities 

can call an ocean their backyard.

Among the visitors were the wealthy 

industrialists and bankers and the Bohemians.

They gambled, they drank, they ate,

and eventually most found their way home late.

But many never returned.

Others who came in their wake did decide to stay,

and formed a year-round community 

that included a main street called Broadway,

complete with stores and theaters.

Long Branch got so big and diverse

with Jewish folk, African-Americans and Catholics,

even the Ku Klux Klan came to march downtown.

Fortunately, the door hit their asses on the way out.

The Mafia treated the city like a playground and more,

playing in the Surf Lounge and paying for

the construction of the Harbour Towers high-rise.

One little pussy of a mobster bragged

on the pages of Life magazine,

“What we got in Long Branch is everything.

Police we got. Councilmen we got, too.

We’re gonna make millions.”

Pussy Russo was eventually found dead

with three bullets in his head 

in a Long Branch spa while on furlough from prison,

because his bosses feared he would talk too much

in order to stay and enjoy the friendly city.

We had a native son and LBHS grad

who was named poet laureate

of the entire U.S. of A.

You can read his poem “Long Branch, New Jersey,”

on a plaque in Pinsky Park on Broadway.

The pier beckoned more visitors with its

amusement rides, arcades, bars.

There were hot dogs and other kinds of matter to put down,

which many people from across the state in fact did

as other shore towns south lured pleasure seekers

with their siren song of more, newer, better attractions.

The city eventually became symbolized by the Haunted Mansion,

with fake ghouls and real rats on its aging pier.

It continued creating memories for more locals

but fewer visitors before finally feeding the appetite

of a hungry fire that left behind charred splinters.

“My city is burning down down down,

and you’re not around.

You’re paying attention to some other town,

you missed us burn to the ground.”*

From the ashes rose the entirely new Pier Village,

with its fine restaurants, cafes, boutiques,

to attract people from all around,

but not the nostalgia of many locals, once again proving:

“You can please some of the people all of the time, 

you can please all of the people some of the time, 

but you can’t please all the people all of the time.”

Did Abraham Lincoln say that

while Mary Ann Todd was staying in Long Branch?

In any case, enough local citizens welcomed the change

and re-elected Mayor Schneider six times.

Today we have Brazilians and Mexicans 

and lots of other Latinos

calling the city home, with their restaurants 

and various businesses on Broadway,

which still has a performing arts theater

and now even a microbrewery.

“We’ve been made by these broken streets,

and now we make all these broken beats.

But we just dig it and we just dig it,

but a keep on moving on.

That’s why we’re fighting, that’s why we’re fighting,

for where we belong.”*

We still have Jewish folk a-courting 

on the boardwalk Thursdays and Sundays,

and Italians and African-Americans like always.

The city even has a Sicilian-born poet laureate, 

whose voice rises above the tongues of people 

from all around the world on our boardwalk

and promenade every Fourth of July.

The ghosts of writers and artists past

smile at names like di Pasquale, Castaño and Delima now.

What can they say, except

“Wow, how cool is this Long Branch?”

“Come with the stylee if you want 

to come find Long Branch rhythm.

You gotta love the way the sky looks,

when everyone lets it bring them down.

And though the sun ain’t coming out,

I see light around my home town.”**

The Ink Well and Brighton Bar,

home of original music,

stand alongside the Celtic Cottage

and some new Brazilian businesses,

as a synagogue is built in West End,  

which isn’t actually in the west end.

Did I mention the Atlantic Ocean?

Not too many cities 

can call an ocean their backyard.

Long Branch is indeed a friendly city, 

with no vacancy for those 

who want to bring it back down

from where it rose.

“So when these ashes turn to gold,

and when these pages start to unfold,

I have seen the best of my city, 

because I’ve seen the worst of my city.”*

—

*Copyright 2016 by David Castaño, “Burning City” as recorded and performed by Eastbourne

**Copyright 2016 by David Castaño, “LB Stylee” as recorded and performed by Eastbourne

Poem copyright 2019 by Charles A. Bruns

Legacy of the Fiero

A 1985 Pontiac Fiero heard it all during the annual West End Cruise Night in Long Branch, NJ yesterday.  While proudly parked alongside classics and other eye-catching cars as bands played music from the 1950s and 1960s, the black plastic-body, five-speed mid-engine coupe overheard the following comments from passersby:

"I had an '88 six-cylinder with the Lotus suspension. Best car I ever had. Absolutely loved it. My ex-wife took it and left it running in Spanish Harlem and jumped on a subway. The NYPD called me 29 days later and told me they found it, in pretty bad shape. Yours is one of my top four cars in this show."

"Frank had a Fiero."

"They came in four cylinders and six cylinders. They came and went. The six cylinders were fast."

"Look -- a Fiero. I didn't think there was any of them left around."

"How many years have you had it?  Twenty-nine?  Wow, most people here have only had their cars three years or so.  Is that the original paint?  Looks good!  Is it automatic?  Oh wow, it's a stick shift!

"Look, a Fiero. It's so cute."

"Five speed!"

"Remember those?"

"I had this exact car, an '85 Fiero."

"I worked on these cars.  It was my first job."

"Someone had one of these. A neighbor."

"I was told they run hot."

"Look, Mary, here's your car. I had an Indy."

"You can take off all the panels and completely customize it."

"It has the vents in the back because it gets hot."

"I've had an '87 for eight years. I've been changing it a lot, but now I wish I kept it all original. Take it to more shows."

"What is this car?"

"Oh, a Fiero! 1985."

"2m4! I had an 86 with a six-cylinder. I am a Fiero conneseur."

"I worked at a Pontiac dealer when they came out. They had a lot of recalls. Yours looks really good."

"That is so cool."

"Remember when you had a Fiero, Steve? You tried to trade it in at Reedman's."

"When we were teenagers. Yeah, that's when they came out."

"That was her first car."

"Look, a Pontiac Fiero."

"I had one of these. It was the worst car ever made. It had a lot of problems and was recalled a lot."

"Is this yours? I love sports cars. I always loved this car."

"A Pontiac Fiero. Wow!"

"A death trap. My sister had one. Had an accident, plastic shattered all over the place."

"It's amazing. These cars don't exist any more. A Fiero."

"Look at that, a Fiero."

Feel free to add your comments about the legacy of the Pontiac Fiero.