whisper and moan

Tags

alcoholism, compassion, death, despair, desperation, emotion, empathy, eternal, loneliness, longing, lost love

 

troubled blues with feeling
may ease my tortured mind;
free me from the clutches
of those I left behind.

these dirty hobo rags
hang on a wasted frame,
haunted by the memory
and rhythm of your name.

walking through this alley
shrouded, dark with death.
evil deeds will haunt me,
until my final breath.

craving me some whisky,
a friendly word and smile.
you can spend my money,
just stay a little while.

booze, it clouds my thinking.
your face is just a blur……
few more drinks together
i may think you are her.

guitar strings, whining steel,
a whisper and a moan.
use me and abuse me;
don’t leave me here alone.

…

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The Silver Fox

Tags

Abuse, addiction, alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, homeless, mental health, psychology, Sociology, violence

slouching
in forgotten tap-rooms
dirty old men,
forgotten old men,
slop piss colored beer
from, wet, dripping glasses.
the hollow din,
the retelling of the good old days,
echoes sadly
as life quickly passes.

“They used to call me ‘The Silver Fox’
What do you think of that?
They used to care.”

an empty glass crashes
to the muddy floor.

“I guess I’ll be hitting the streets tonight.
Sleep in an alley tonight.
Nobody cares.”

slouching
in forgotten tap-rooms
dirty old men,
forgotten old men,
slop piss colored beer.
nobody cares…

…

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Sample my books for free — To date $1845.00 has been donated to the homeless:
Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People
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https://buff.ly/2lUfp6Q ($2.99 Download)
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Robert

Tags

alcoholism, blues, death, despair, dreams, guitar, loneliness, longing, lost love, music

 
An itinerant
entertainer
guitar on his back
ramblin’
from town to town
the devil by his side.
Performing
on street corners
in juke joints
roadhouses
lastly,
on August 13,1938,
at Shaples General Store,
Three Forks,
Mississippi.

Loner
philanderer
loved by the ladies
Robert was poisoned
with strychnine-laced whiskey
by a jealous husband
on the outskirts
of Baptist Town,
Greenwood,
Mississippi.

Buried in an
disputed grave
but, as Robert sang:
Baby, I don’t care
where you bury my body
when I’m dead and gone
You may bury my body, whoooo
Down by the highway side
So my old evil spirit
Can get a Greyhound bus
and ride.

Where
he is buried
isn’t important;
what is important
is the influence he’s had
on musicians
the world over.
Eric Clapton
claims, “he is
the most important blues singer
that ever lived.”
May he forever
rest in peace.

…

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The Ghost

Tags

alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, empathy, homeless, mental health, personal, poverty, psychology, unconditional love

Little Jake approached me.
He knew that he knew me
but couldn’t remember my name.
I gave him a hug —
we’ve known each other
for seven years.

Jake, I said, “How are you?”
“Not good. I feel like
I’m walking in a fog.
I don’t know where I’m going…
Keep your money.
I don’t need anything.”

He drifted away
I was looking at a corpse.
He was still breathing,
but what I saw
was the ghost
of Little Jake.

…

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Street Justice

Tags

Abuse, addiction, alcoholism, assault, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, kindness, psychology, Sociology, violence

 

I sit, in sadness,
holding hands with an injured friend;
her ribs broken and fractured,
her breathing painful and difficult,
her head aching and dizzy,
her face bruised
and scraped.

Another friend
is absent, in hiding; yet
he has no sanctuary,
there is no place he won’t be found.

At last, he had his life
in some semblance of order.
Two months sober;
he had an apartment, furniture;
his pride and self-worth had returned.
Then, he spent his rent check on booze —
starting with triple tequila shots
at a biker bar.
The universe
had given him a fresh start —
he threw it away.

Street justice will prevail;
sentence has been passed:
a bruise for a bruise,
a broken bone for a broken bone,
and something extra
so it won’t happen again.
Punishment will be exacted
with ruthless,
emotionless
efficiency.

 

…

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tears

Tags

alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, death, emotion, empathy, loving kindness, mystery, personal, spiritual

 

 

i feel your tears,
my eyes burn.
a cloak of heaviness
descends upon my heart.

i have no words
to console you.
nothing I can write
will remove your sorrow.

I’ve experienced
the pain of loss,
and known the joyousness
that thoughts of love can bring.

i sit with you
in soft silence.
i hear anger in your despair.
i pray for your healing.

 
 

…

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Lost Brave

Tags

addiction, alcoholism, assistance, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, homeless, kindness, poverty, psychology, Sociology

 

 

a lost brave
leans against a building
(tho he is unwelcome)
beside a busy walk.
everything he owns
fills a pack
upon his back

he is far
from his fishing boat,
an ocean teeming with fish,
from the majestic forest,
from his children,
his clan

his eyes reveal
a story of hurt and pain –
the uncertainty of the city.
a sidewalk for a bed,
charity of strangers
his only grace

a challenge
every day –
a new beginning.
beyond the fire
that tames his demons
the only plan that matters
is to survive

far from home
he can scarce remember.
a lost brave, fighting back tears,
pride in the knowledge
of his ancestry,
his place –
his blood

 

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Street Angel

Tags

addiction, alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, homeless, kindness, mental health, poverty, psychology, Sociology

 

I met a woman
who lives on the streets.
All her belongings
fit in her backpack.

She has sparkling blue eyes,
a smile that would light heaven itself.
She looked cold.
I asked her how long
she’d been on the streets.

She replied, “I don’t know….too long.”
She is forty-four,
but looks older.

She told me her story.
I won’t repeat it,
but, to give you
some idea,
recall your worst fears,
your worst nightmares
rolled into one.
That’s the way
her story starts,
it only gets worse
from there.

I brought her a sandwich
and a coffee.
She said, “God bless you.”
He did,
immediately.
A wave of joy spread
throughout my body
and stayed there
all day long.

I have been blessed
by an Angel.

 
 
 

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Dear Silver

Tags

alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, homeless, illness, kindness, poverty, psychology, Sociology, unconditional love

 

 

Dear Silver,

I miss you
(your cap on the sidewalk)
panning in front of Starbucks.
Your regulars miss you too.
Out of respect,
nobody’s using your spot —
Joy sees to that.

Eventually,
someone from the family,
(someone you’d approve of,
maybe Little Jake)
will carry on
where you left off —
serving ‘good mornings’
with a side
of smiles.

I miss
our conversations,
seated on storage boxes —
you’d light a cigarette,
sip your beer.
We’d discuss friends,
adventures from your past,
the Chateau Lafayette.

Some of the guys
were too upset
to attend your funeral.
I know you were there
as the group congregated
at noon, with the snow falling.
Albert still cries
at the mention of your name.

Sometimes,
you’d sit alone on the curb
as Shaggy barked.
I’m not going up there,
you’d say,
that damn dog
is barking her head off.

At those times
we’d wonder what you were thinking —
just staring off into space.
That’s just Silver, zoning out,
somebody would say,
He does that,
sometimes.

 

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Lost Brave

Tags

aboriginal, alcoholism, compassion, emotion, empathy, First Nations, kindness, longing, native, spiritual, unconditional love

 

 

a lost brave
leans against a building
(tho he is unwelcome)
beside a busy walk.
everything he owns
fills a pack
upon his back

he is far
from his fishing boat,
an ocean teeming with fish,
from the majestic forest,
from his children,
his clan

his eyes reveal
a story of hurt and pain –
the uncertainty of the city.
a sidewalk for a bed,
charity of strangers
his only grace

a challenge
every day –
a new beginning.
beyond the fire
that tames his demons
the only plan that matters
is to survive

far from home
he can scarce remember.
a lost brave, fighting back tears,
pride in the knowledge
of his ancestry,
his place –
his blood

 
 

Buy my book,
Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People,
for $0.99. Proceeds feed the homeless.

http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS

 

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Lonely

Tags

addiction, alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, despair, empathy, homeless, loving kindness, psychology, Sociology

 

I  wandered into Lonely
about a week ago.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where to go.

I’m not alone in Lonely
we gather all together.
I look into their empty eyes;
I see they’re lost forever.

We sit in understanding,
I hear about their sorrow.
Death looks from their teary eyes;
they’ll not be here tomorrow.

My heart unfolded to them.
They look on me as friend.
I give to all, the love I have;
offer comfort ’till the end.

 
 
 
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The Silver Fox

Tags

alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, despair, desperation, emotion, fear, homeless, loneliness, longing

 

Slouching
in forgotten tap-rooms
dirty old men,
forgotten old men,
slop piss-colored beer
from, wet, dripping glasses.
The hollow din,
the retelling of “the good old days”,
echoes sadly
as life quickly passes.

“They used to call me ‘The Silver Fox’
What do you think of that?
They used to care.”

An empty glass crashes
to the muddy floor.

“I guess I’ll be hitting the street tonight.
Sleep in an alley tonight.
Nobody cares.”

Slouching
in forgotten tap-rooms
dirty old men,
forgotten old men,
slop piss-colored beer.
Nobody cares….

 
 
 

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My Name Is Hippo

Tags

alcoholism, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, empathy, homeless, kindness, spiritual, unconditional love, welfare

.

.

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…

.

 

The Silver Fox

Tags

addiction, alcoholism, compassion, empathy, homeless, love, mankind, personal, philosophy

Slouching
in forgotten tap-rooms
dirty old men,
forgotten old men,
slop piss colored beer
from, wet, dripping glasses.
The hollow din,
the retelling of “the good old days”,
echoes sadly
as life quickly passes.

“They used to call me ‘The Silver Fox’
What do you think of that?
They used to care.”

An empty glass crashes
to the muddy floor.

“I guess I’ll be hitting the street tonight.
Sleep in an alley tonight.
Nobody cares.”

Slouching
in forgotten tap-rooms
dirty old men,
forgotten old men,
slop piss colored beer.
Nobody cares….