April 29: Homelessness - 3 and 4

III.

A shelter could be a safe place to stay,

Or a cesspool of drugs and crime.

All the best shelters are out of the way:

And make sure to be there on time!

And don’t you expect to get much sleep!

For breakfast, it’s grits and an egg.

You better carry what you want to keep.

When you run out of money, you’ll  beg!

You stay out on the streets.

You meet  up with some goon,

And it’s $80 a week

If you want your own room!

Choose between working and something to eat.

Choose between hustling and just working tired.

Choose between planning and the law of the street.

Who can find in these struggles one thing to admire?

I wound up in a seedy neighborhood,

Afraid to carry what’s left of my cash,

And not doing anyone a bit of good.

My clothes are somebody’s trash.

I couldn’t open up a bank account

With my license is from out of state.

With no local address, and so small and amount . . .

I can work it, but I’ve just got to wait.

IV

I am angry.  I’m tired.

i don’t see much enjoyment.  

Work a week and get fired.

Can’t collect unemployment.

I’ll get something cheap to shake up my brain;

Let me dream!  Let me find a new vision!

It’s worth it if it lets me numb my pains,

Or if it helps me to feel my condition!

An officer tells me to get on the move.

A friend says I’m wasting away.

I’m asking myself what I’m trying to prove

By just living from day to day!

Now the question I’m asking -- is “how shall I love?”

What have I to offer my friends?

To see such decay, and rise above it,

Until all of it’s put to an end?

I painted a picture of a ghetto scene;

I quoted an appropriate scripture.

I learned what I could from the places I’ve been.

I ask where people stand in this picture!

I’ve handed out blankets; adopted a pet;

Asked the Mayor to come up with a plan!

I try to surmise what it takes to get set.

I assist where I feel that I can!

Still, I’m trying to be my own best friend!

I want to hook up with a girl!

While I haven’t spare time, I still like to pretend

I can go out and save the world!

The question I’m asking is “Where is the love

When we’re struggling so hard to survive:

So much destruction to rise above, . . .

And be ALIVE amongst the alive!

April 28: Homelessness - 1 and 2

Homelessness

I

These are my brothers

By the soup kitchen door.

Most, and many others,

Are just, plain, and poor.

There’s a young, handsome fella

Who seems a bit subdued.

He doesn’t fuss or beller

When he’s waiting on his food.

But someone’s yelling at the door

With rights he’s got to defend.

The people in the line ignore it

As they do their best to blend.

There’s not a lot to talk about.

Who can you find to trust?

We’ve seen so much pity, fear, and doubt,

False kindness or frank disgust.

Even to myself, I’m another unknown

In the sprawl of this southern city.

But, we all of us have our own kind of alone,

And I wonder who’s really to pity!

Yes, we all of us know rejection!

We all have met with a wall!

I just wonder how we can build that connection

That promises hope for us all!

II

I had heard of the new growth in industry.

I thought, “Yes, there I’ll awaken my dreams!”

Knowing there would be no guarantee,

But adventure was bursting its seams!

“I’ll go where the winters are warm,"

My eyes upon housing construction,

Along with an ever-expanding swarm,

Who had made the same deduction.

“You wouldn’t fit here,” snorted the snob.

“We’ll call you,” blew off the bureaucracy.

“We’ll wait a few weeks to fill this job.”

“You need a background,” intones the technocracy.

So I parked myself at a Labor Pool,

Toughing it out at that minimum wage,

Though my employer treats me like some kind of fool,

When he’s only half my age!

Now I’ve got no phone, and no transportation.

It makes the hunt for work, at best, inefficient.

I must laugh when I’m asked about my real vocation:

I’m just trying to be self-sufficient.

Stumbling home at the end of the day,

My clothes are just reeking with dirt.

I’d get out of this place if I knew the way;

If I wasn’t so lonely and hurt!

April 27: Patty

Patty

On a farm with a big organic garden,
There’s always more to be done,
So you do what you have to, not asking for pardon
In your balance of duty and fun,
Feeling the wind and the sun.

It’s a way of life where you see the fruition
And reap the results of your toil,
And as you do so, you make decisions
On how much to devote to the soil;
What to save and what to let spoil.

What to cook, or freeze, or consign to canning,
And what’s good enough to sell
It’s a process involving hard labor and planning,
And drawing from your spiritual well,
You mull it over sometimes when you’ve got peas to shell,

But what you’ll do, you know you can’t always tell.

With matters like these, you must constantly grapple,
But on the way from the store,
You see a tree over laden with apples,
So you take a break from your chores,
And knock on that home-owner’s door;

Who hasn’t the sensibilities,
The ability or even the time
To do something with his apple trees
And he’s more than grateful to find
A good person who’s so inclined,

Who’s got a ladder that she’s ready to climb.

He’s astonished to hear your enthusiasm
About picking up fruit off the ground,
And you break through social and political chasms
As every year you come around,
And a smile replaces a lonely frown,
And it looks like a friend you have found!

On a farm with a big organic garden,
There’s always more to be done,
So you do what you have to, not asking for pardon
In your balance of duty and fun,
Feeling the wind and the sun,

And working through the rain and the cold.

Sometimes it looks like just another distraction;
A commitment to yet another chore,
But you feel when you put yourself into action,
You’re able to do even more
Towards paying endeavors not thought of before,

Filling needs that you cannot ignore.

And slowly, you build a connection.
You might bake him more than one apple pie!
In a dangerous world, you’ll need protection,
And it pays to diversify.
But that’s not the reason why!
As you do what you love, you get by.

April 26: Glad, Glad, Glad!

Glad, Glad, Glad!

I feel so good since you let me go!
I accept “whatever” in the here and now.

I was caught in a quagmire where I just couldn’t grow.
I’ll be okay, but I don’t know how!

There’s nothing in this world I have to do

After all that I’ve been through.

I’m just so glad, glad, glad, glad, glad, glad, glad -

That I don’t work for you!

I can’t think any more about all my duress.

How I smile to remember when you got in my face!

You just don’t know - how much I feel blessed

Now that I don’t have to work at your place!

You’ve helped me to know what it’s like to be used;

To let go of caring what happens to me!

When my world has been shattered, I have nothing to lose

It just doesn’t matter how distressing the news.

I’m too scattered to say that I’ve paid my dues,

But boss man, do I feel free!

Sure, I’ll do my best

To maintain what I’ve got,

But I’m not obsessed

To be like the rest

Who think life is a test.

It’s not.

(I can still take a shot!)

So if everything in my life breaks down –

My house, my money, my shop - like sand,

And I find myself walking all over town

With no respect, and without a plan,

And I wind up in jail

With no end of trouble,

And my friends all disown me -

I’m still in my bubble

There’s nothing in this world I have to do

After all that I’ve been through.

I’m just so glad, glad, glad, glad, glad, glad, glad -

That I don’t work for you!

I can’t think any more about all my duress.

How I smile to remember when you got in my face!

You just don’t know - how much I feel blessed

Now that I don’t have to work at your place!

Just knowing your idiot job is gone,

Where I’ve already walked that extra mile

That just kept going on and on:

Just knowing it’s over is making me smile!

Whatever happens from here on out

(I know I’m not in the least bit prepared),

There’s no room anymore in my world for doubt.

I’m just that grateful that I’m not there!

There’s nothing in this world I have to do

After all that I’ve been through.

I’m just so glad, glad, glad, glad, glad, glad, glad -

That I don’t work for you!

April 25: The Plan

The Plan

There is a plan.  There are standards,

All with reasons we strive to understand

And to carry out gracefully,

Even when we know we will fail

To do all that is required.

That's why we were hired.

Yes, and we do it daily; even gaily, when we can.

We know we can't take it so damn serious,

And we'd go crazy if we did,

So we kid around and play,

And we realize it's not in our hands anyway.

It's not our style to worry,

Though there's a lot to worry about.

Sometimes, we hurry, hurry, hurry

When we need to figure it out.

But it's best to zip along; eyes open,

Expecting anyway, that, fast or slow,

We're going to get it wrong -

To those supposed to know!

No one can keep in check

The sheer number of little tasks,

The unpredictability of the flow,

And all that will be asked.

Even so, we do prevail.

Though sad, or tired,

We still get through it;

Maybe in a round-about way,

But we do it,

Just like we've done the same sort of thing before.

Ninety-nine percent of the time!

Anyway, no one's keeping score!

Nothing goes exactly according to plan,

But we know the dark tunnel we're traveling through,

And we do the best we can.

Then again, if things get too askew, we will take a stand!

That, too, is what's demanded.

April 24: Understanding and Focus of Mind

Understanding and Focus of Mind

I put a blank key in the key machine.

If I cut all at once, it tends to slip,

So I cut it in passes, or I tighten the grip.

Likewise, in getting across what I mean,

I don’t want to sound like I’m off on a trip.

I share the trend of my thought before I dip.

I don’t want to always have to make an excuse

When I make a faulty decision.

So I keep on making new revisions,

Not hedging my  bets by living loose,

But learning to act with precision,

Both in detail and in wider vision.

Like a key that eventually turns a lock,

I am honing my life and my unseemly career,

Making my purpose specific and clear.

Like carefully constructing a deep water dock

So a ship can safely approach the pier,

Not just in theory, but here!

I create my poems, my life, to serve.

I trust my intent to succeed.

I commit to my cause and the fruits of my seeds.

I declare my truth and the place which I deserve,

As I fulfill each present need;

Though my time isn’t always free.

I’ll be your friend -- in deed.

It always requires some patience to learn.

The steps are never completely defined.

It takes steps for distinctions to be refined.

We deal with matters of real concern

With a human face, so we have to be kind,

In understanding and focus of mind.

I don’t want to always have to make an excuse

When I make a faulty decision.

So I keep on making new revisions,

Not hedging my  bets by living loose,

But  learning to act with precision,

Both in detail and in wider vision.

I create my poems, my life, to serve.

I trust my intent to succeed.

I commit to my cause and the fruits of my seeds.

I declare my truth and the place which I deserve,

As I Fulfill each present need;

Always taking heed;

Not afraid to take the lead:

I’ll be your friend -- in deed.