A Man Without A Name Poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

A Man Without A Name

Rating: 5.0


I see him often along the street
of Kolding Train Station
A black man with his curly hair
that seems not to have been washed in years
A man with no smile on his dirty face
A man with a bottle of beer on his lips
and a lighted cigarett
between his finger tips.

What is he doing
along the open road
while others are hurrying
to their place of work?
Why is he having much time to spare
while others claim they
don`t have time and run with stress?

What is he doing along the open road
while others would rather hide
in the comforts of their gold?

What is this lost man doing in an open road,
when he stands without a name,
a story to tell, honour and shame?

Why do we find many more like him
without their names, who find the open streets
as their home to dwell?

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
that in any country of abundance and affluence, we find also the marginalized often losing their identity and stopping to struggle.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Rishabh Bidya 08 December 2013

There are those who like the material world and there are those who choose to wander places! ! ! A gem of a work! ! : D

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David Beckham 05 January 2013

Haunting and spell binding. You never stop once you start. The narration is powerful, puts you in that station, makes it almost relateable that the man could be someone you know or maybe that that man is you! scary thought which speaks to the power of your arrangement. Excellent. TFS 10/10

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Kelvin Owusu 01 January 2013

a nice piece, feel like some good questions raised in this poem, good write

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Elizabeth Padillo Olesen 28 December 2012

Thanks for your reflective comment, dear poetess. Yes, I think there are those who choose to be homeless. The gypsies in Denmark choose to be gypsies even if there is social service they could have received to settle a life and live in apartments. No, I don't know if there are celebrities who choose to be homeless. One thing I am sure is that, that if they are homeless, they do not go through the experience of the real homeless to go to bed hungry and sleeping without pillow or mat but only card boxes, or to wake up, finding that sky has bathed them with rain.

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