Tags
alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, empathy, homeless, kindness, spiritual, unconditional love, welfare
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My name is Hippo,
I’m an alcoholic.
Joy was the first
to call me Hippo.
My face swells
when I drink beer.
I guess, I look
like a Hippo.
Before that
they called me Farmboy.
I never lived on a farm,
but, I come from
a farming community.
I guess I looked
like a Farmboy.
Why do I drink?
Welfare asks me that
all the time —
I’m also homeless —
I don’t know why I drink.
I have bleeding ulcers;
I shit and puke blood.
I drink because
that’s who I am.
If I didn’t drink
I wouldn’t be me.
If I didn’t drink
I’d die…
.
Dennis Cardiff 
Whoever said ‘Names can never hurt you’ was wrong.
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I agree, names do hurt. I’ve never heard him referred to as anything but Hippo. ~ Dennis
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Beautiful words Dennis. Thank you for caring. 🙂
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Hi Jade, It’s easy to care for Hippo and his friends, they are so vulnerable. Tough looking on the outside, but lost inside, almost like puppies that you want to take home.
Miranda Rush is going to be publishing a trilogy, for release next month. Do you have any advice for her?http://mirandarush.com/. I really like her writing, I think you will too. ~ Dennis
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I shall visit her site Dennis – thank you so much for telling me about her. As far as advice goes, I have no idea! – but it is always good to meet and connect with other writers. Great to hear from you as always. 🙂
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So very heartbreaking. . .
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Hi Miranda, I am pleased to say that this poem was written about a year ago. Since then, Hippo has qualified for his own apartment, and apart from a few brushes with the law, he has turned his life around. He is still alcoholic, but, day by day, he is keeping it more under control. I see him regularly. ~ Dennis
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Hi Dennis – these character poems are spot on. This one especially speaks to me – there are people like this poor man in every town. So sad.
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This was written to a close friend, whose life I was worried about. The name and photo are not his, but the words are. He said “Yep, that’s me.” He was so pleased with the poem, he had copies made and gave them to his friends. He thanked me and said, “No one has ever cared for me before.” Tears came to his eyes and we hugged. ~ Dennis
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What an amazing story – I’ve never been brave enough to write one for or to an actual person. I’m so glad it touched him – I can see why it would. I hope he found some peace. Sounds like a gentle soul.
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