Homeless 1 Poem by Daniel Brick
Homeless 1
A bleak shaggy dog yawning
looks ready to collapse,
an abandoned cat yawning
looks ready to pounce.
It's the same for the humans
on this street - collapse or rant.
Fourteen are scattered
alone or in small groups
in front of the Dorothy Day Center.
They're all talking, even the solitary ones,
especially the solitary ones, who
have no reason to be silent.
They have no other to fill the terrible emptiness,
words occupy what should be peopled.
(Have you ever looked straight up,
your neck cranked all the way back,
into the night sky and searched
among the stars? Have you stared
at those points of light, as if
by staring you could bring them
closer? And then bowed your head,
and eased your neck, and all the while
the same questions are being broadcast.
You know the ones, everybody does.)
The doors open suddenly, the crowd
is now nineteen, and they shuffle in
between two guards. Two drunks are barred.
One is smoking a cigarette, the other looks
into the night sky. They are very polite.
One of the guards lingers outside, listening
from the the steps. What is that persistent
moan? Is it the moan of hunger, or the moan
of prayer, or it is the moaning of time
running out? Whatever it is, it's all
that's left of humanity on the streets:
the drunks are gone, the guard has locked
the door. Cold concrete, even colder air
in piercing wind gusts, prevailing silence,
with an occasional shout from someone
who's giving up, after one last long look
into the night sky.
They're all talking, even the solitary ones, especially the solitary ones, who have no reason to be silent. They have no other to fill the terrible emptiness, words occupy what should be peopled. - - Very poignant and heart touching poem about the people who have no home for shelter and no dear ones to take care of them.
A lovely narrative piece of poetry well articulated and elegantly penned. Thanks for sharing Daniel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/17/2024 8:10:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
People talk about the Homeless- some saying that it is their own fault, they are there because they are addicted to booze or drugs or that they are too lazy to work or they are mentally afflicted. But should the causation of this state of being be the end all and be all. They are part of the human family, they should not be left behind to live alone, die alone, suffer alone, be the prey of predators because the herd has left them behind? They are somebody's son, somebody's daughter, somebody's sister, somebody's uncle, somebody's childhood friend. They are mankind's son, daughter, sister, brother at this point. They look up at the same stars that the ones who live in houses do, but do they see hope up there? Or do they see a cold distant end? Daniel, this poem reaches out from the page and touches the hearts of the readers in a very sensitive honest way. Thank you for sharing your humanity with us. Rating? What else but a 10? Maybe a billion of them? Like how many stars in the sky and mankind on earth? A favorite poem on my list