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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borderlands

Tags

choice, desperation, destiny, empowerment, fantasy, forever, free, mystery, philosophy, psychology, Sociology

  

  

i live in the borderlands,
between reality and imagination,
just this side of fantasy.

reality is okay.
i visit there
to check my mail,
earn a few dollars,
pay some bills,
buy groceries.

reality is an okay place to visit
but, i wouldn’t want to live there.

i’m happiest in my mind
where I filter my thoughts
like an answering machine.
i delete the negative,
dwell on the positive.

people may see me walking alone.
they don’t see the beautiful woman
at my side
with her hand in mine.

i may be seen sitting at a table, alone.
nobody sees the delicate hand,
with the magic fingers,
sliding up my thigh.

or, the passionate kiss
being planted on my throat,
the fingers running through my hair.

where i work
people see me smile.
they think I enjoy my job.
they don’t know me.

   

…

  
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Street Justice

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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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Lost Brave

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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

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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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Panhandling

Tags

charity, compassion, hunger, kindness, listening, mental health, Sociology, unconditional love, unemployment

 

A woman waking up on a sidewalk in Bijapur, India, under a Pepsi advertisement. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I sit on the sidewalk,
my upturned hat
in front of me,
hoping for spare change.
I’m forty years old.
I look older
because of the beard.
I’ve been on the streets
for twenty-two years.
I sleep on the sidewalk.

 

The sun is blinding.
My throat is parched.
I’m vaguely aware
of people walking past.
I feel disoriented,
light-headed.
I can’t remember
when I last ate.
I can’t remember
much of anything.
My life is a blur.

Occasionally,
someone will throw
a quarter
in my direction.

Some jerk just said,
“Get a job!”
“Hire me!” I said.
That’s a joke!
Most people
won’t look at me,
let alone employ me.

If I sit here long enough
the cops may run me in.
At least, I’ll get to eat.
I’ll be safe
for one night.

.

 

Sleeping on the Sidewalk, Atlanta, Georgia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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Squirrels in Winter

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animals, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, empathy, homeless, kindness, nature, psychology, Sociology, unconditional love

 

Occasionally,
Antonio
joins me for coffee.
He tells me
the most wondrous stories.
Sometimes,
I think he makes them up
for my benefit.
In any case
I am honored.

 

 

Have you ever worried
about squirrels in winter?
I see them climb over snowdrifts
with their bare paws —
they have no winter boots.

I see them stop
to tuck their tiny front paws
into their armpits
for warmth —
they have no mitts.

When it rains
I see them huddle
under trees,
they still get soaked —
they have no raincoats.

They have no pants,
no dresses, no hats,
no warm winter coats,
no shelter or fires
to warm their bodies.

Even the homeless men
whose beds are the sidewalk
have sleeping bags
to keep them warm.
Squirrels have nothing.

Still they remain cheery,
hopping about
gathering nuts,
Who knew
it was such a hard life
for squirrels in winter?

 
 

 

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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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The Happiest Guy Alive

Tags

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

 

So, I’m panning
in my usual spot.
This suit walks by —
in passing he says,
“Get a job!”
“Hire me!” I say.
“Take a shower,” he says.
“I may sleep outside,
that doesn’t mean
I don’t wash —
I wash all over.”

“Hey,” I say,
“if you’re so successful,
why do you look
so unhappy?

“I’ve made the price
of my bottle.
I’ve got some smokes,
a little pot.

“Me, I’m the happiest guy alive.”

 
 

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My Name Is Hippo

Tags

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

 

 

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…

 
 

 

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Betrayal

Tags

Buddhism, Christianity, despair, desperation, emotion, empathy, First Nations, homeless, loving kindness, psychology, Sociology

 

 

I look into your eyes,
grey with tears and sorrow
from the Arctic Ocean.

I feel your hurt deep inside,
hear your thunder,
see your rain.

With your fist at your chest
you open your heart,
tell me of hardship,
betrayal and pain.

I listen
with my heart
as one who has been there.

With my arm around your shoulder,
as a brother,
I urge you, to act with patience
and with love —
to be LOVE.

.

Note: Alphonse took his life, by hanging, 21 October 2015.

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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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… space …

Tags

Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, death, empathy, eternal, free, kindness, philosophy, Sociology, unconditional love

 

There’s a space
on the sidewalk
where a smile once lived
greetings go undelivered
sarcasm left unsaid

my mornings
will be muted
other lives,
many lives,
will be lessened.

we’ll say remember when —
but, memories bring pain
another reminder
of someone
we’ll never see
again

.

 
 
 
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.

 

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Street Justice

Tags

Abuse, Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, empathy, homeless, kindness, psychology, Sociology, unconditional love, 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.
 
 
Read about my friends here  http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS

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Street Angel

Tags

Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, despair, desperation, emotion, fear, homeless, kindness, Sociology, unconditional love

 

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.

 
 
 
Read about my friends here  http://buff.ly/1wyjiKS

.

 

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Take My Hand

Tags

Buddhism, Christianity, compassion, desperation, empathy, homeless, humanity, kindness, loving kindness, psychology, Sociology

 

There you are
an almost stranger.
Who am I to take your hand?
What I give is nearly nothing –
but the heart to hear
and understand.

You tell me
you’ve been beaten,
stabbed with a machete,
made some choices
now regretted.

Sparking
eyes of azure blue
show a spectrum of emotions,
happiness, frustration,
pain and sorrow,
but, always
love.

Arisen
from behind a dumpster,
to living in a clean, safe house,
your life in order,
independent —
a miracle.

Inspiring
to me, and to everyone
fortunate enough to know you.
I would like to introduce you
to a wider audience
so that they too
may take inspiration
and see the miracle
that is your love,
that is you.

Please,
in friendship,
take my hand.

 
 
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.

 

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