Barbershop Poetry

• Apple Of Her Eye
  Joe Hale, March 1976
  
  All were eager to do the show;
  Basses and tenors too.
  “We must memorize”, they said to Midge,
  “It's the only thing to do,
  Get rid of the books and spots right now;
  No need for a crutch by side.”
  So, now she looked glad and thoughtful too,
  This group was her joy and pride.
  This talented crew is filled with soul,
  She thought with lightning speed.
  Some others may do their tasks quite well,
  But these guys are my friends, indeed!
  This is the way she visioned it . . . . .
  But tell me truly, guy,
  Are you willing to put forth the effort to be,
  The Apple of Her Eye?

• Ode To The Contestant
  Author & Date: Unknown
  
  Who's the stranger, Mother dear?
  Look! He knows us. Ain't he queer?
  Hush, my son! Don't talk that way.
  It's your Dad - he's been away.
  
  Can't be, Mom. No way at all!
  Daddy died way back last fall.
  Your father didn't die, my pet,
  He joined a Barbershop Quartet.
  
  Now the contests are over, and so
  He has no other place to go.
  His eyes are red and his voice is hoarse -
  Baggy pants, needs a shave, but no remorse.
  
  Soon he'll learn another ditty,
  Then pack his bags for Atlantic City,
  So kiss him, he won't bite you, child,
  All those quartet guys look wild.
  
  
  

• The Barbershopper's Pride
  Larry W. Brown 12/05/79
  
  Tonight we're not barhoppers
  As one can plainly see ...
  But we are barbershoppers
  With a ringing melody;
  
  Keeping America Singing ---
  In voice as well as heart
  Having fun, while bringing
  Some children a fresh start.
  
  And though raised eyebrows may occur
  When we are heard to say
  “I'm going the the meeting, sir
  Of SPEBSQSA “ ! ...
  
  What better way to undergird
  America's tradition
  Than let those favorite songs be heard
  In barbershop rendition !
  
  
  

• Two For All
  By Joe Hale - October 1977
  
  My ears perked up the other night
  When I heard someone admit
  How he was filled with sheer delight
  To hear a chorus that was fit
  To sing for District Competition
  Ring out some chords
  At sweet volition.
  
  It sounded like a mighty throng
  But counting them, soon proved one wrong,
  For five and twenty was the count
  That yielded sound which oft could mount
  To volume like a thunder clap,
  Or the quiet of a noontime nap.
  
  I thought hos nice 'twould really be,
  To have a chorus of seventy seven
  with a sound ascending clear to Heaven
  From Behlmanns Room Conquistador.
  
  Well, this can happen, and even more
  If everyone who is now a member,
  Will recruit two men before December!
  
  
  

• Carry The Torch
  By Joe Hale - August 1977
  
  Among the things I treasure most
  I'd surely have to name,
  An SPEBSQSA visitor to host
  To make him glad he came.
  
  It seems of late, it's been our fate
  To have a bunch of guys,
  Who've come to sing and stayed quite late,
  To make a chord arise.
  
  You may recall young Bob McDonnel
  And his silver-throated tenor,
  Or the Counterpoints, and Al Cahill
  Now truly, there's a winner.
  
  And if you're seeking a velvet blend
  Jim White can lay it on!
  Or, than again, theres Michael Schwend
  Whose bass is a satin dawn.
  
  Coming to join this jolly crew
  Is the super basso, Duaine,
  Whose high resolve, and devotion true
  Has caused him to remain.
  
  From the town of steel
  Jim Turner comes, as our fourteen
  karat bari, And now we've all begun to feel,
  It's time for making merry.
  
  This kindles anew deep desire
  To seek with greater ardor,
  To find more men to billow the fire
  We all must seek them harder.
  
  So carry the torch --- seek then out
  And our chapter will be better,
  All these men deserve a shout
  Or a five inch felt block letter.
  
  So give a cheer for visitors here
  And everybody bring one,
  And never have a single fear
  With quality, they will sing one!

• No One's Perfect
  By Joe Hale - March 1977
  
  "No One's Perfect"
  Is my very favorite song
  Amazingly, it points out
  How things will go wrong!
  
  Just when you're thinking
  That you're the very best
  You wind up singing loudly
  Through a two beat rest!
  
  You feel you've really made it
  When, on the front row
  Each man throws a gesture
  Which you forgot to throw.
  
  Chagrined you stand there
  Wondering "what will be my fate"
  If now, I try to throw it
  Ten seconds late.
  
  Resolving not to show
  Embarrassment a Trifle
  You stand there wishing
  For your rusty old rifle -
  
  To use on the joker
  In the very first row
  Who smirked at your boo boo
  And nearly ruined your show.
  
  But calling up the courage
  Of an old mother hen
  You plaster wide across your face
  A Jimmy Carter grin.
  
  The loud applause which greets
  The soon finished song
  Quickly reassures you
  Not everything went wrong.
  
  So then you sing a parody
  Of an old familiar tune
  Dubbing in the original
  Makes you feel like a loon.
  
  Then the notion strikes you
  To become the first defector
  To get out fast
  Ere killed by the director,
  
  Then fate comes to your rescue
  As once again we're shown
  That No One's Perfect -
  The Director one has blown!
  
  God, laugh at our foibles
  But help us strive to be
  What no one has yet attained
  Perfection, like to Thee!
  
  
  

• I'm Glad He's A Barbershopper
  By Leota Watson
  
  As the wife of a Barbershopper, Who never missed one meeting,
  In all of nineteen seventy six, I send you this greeting.
  How did he do it? His secret I'll tell;
  His whole hear was in it, And his wife's heart as well!
  Who do I support him? Thats easy to see;
  His barbershopping has made him, A better husband to me!
  
  His step has more spring, His spirit more zing!
  His heart is much lighter, He even hugs tighter.
  His notes ring truer, His grumbles are fewer;
  His eyes look much bluer, Even his jokes now are newer!
  Weeks with him are less harried, His interests more varied;
  New friendships galore, Who could ask for more!
  
  Who wouldn't support such A good looking guy?
  When his voice lifts with others, Their limits the sky!
  As they stand on the risers, Bedecked in their splendor,
  They're great harmonizers, As through run through a blender!
  I feel shivers down my neck, And all through my spine,
  And I am glad that Barbershopper, Is truly ... ALL MINE!