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Array
(
[sid] => 128127
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Shopping Cart
[time] => 2006-11-12 17:58:21
[hometext] => I've been deeply affected by so many homeless people here in San Diego. I've learned that over 150,000 folks are homeless in the state of California, alone.
[bodytext] => ***author's note...I worked and reworked this piece. I wanted to convey so much to my reader what I saw and felt the night I saw this homeless man. I've never been so teary eyed working on a piece. This one was hard. (Where ever you are, my homeless brother, this is for you)***
Night and the
city is dark,
save for the
artificial lighting
like that
of a lit up Midway
with boisterous fair goers
on a warm July evening.
It is cool here
when sun sets. Ocean winds
blowing in. Wind
whipping palm fans vigorously
like a southern
belle would do
whilst sipping sweet tea
on the antebellum porch.
No warmth felt this evening...
November's fog comes in creeping
with aged crooked fingers
Eerie dust filled clouds
that look like no other
my country eyes have seen.
Smog, grey fog
they call it here
(like it's a pretty damn thing).
Then I see you
catching my ever searching eyes,
I loathe the city scene even more.
The smells of sewer
all things so damned impure.
There you are with your
disheveled superficies
shuffling along these god-forsaken
streets at night.
Carrying everything you own in
that shopping cart you sluggishly
push, as you watch the cars go by
(so fast).
I'm sitting here looking at you
stop light red
(maybe for the purpose to just see you)
wondering what the hell got
you Here
to this place.
My eyes fill with tears at the
thought of you
walking
pushing
maneuvering that damn cart
Where?
Cars streaming by
Where will you go, man?
Where do you hide?
Pillow and blanket in your
shopping cart
cardboard lines the bottom.
clothes in bags,
I suppose your treasures too, man.
Things tied on here and there
(this life that you live)
I can not imagine.
Little parts of me
want to follow you.
The need to know
who you are...
man in coat hanging so low
blue jean dirty
kyphotic stance
the coat looks like your shield
from a damn cruel world.
The stoplight turns green
we go on our way
you sir, continue down
the street, somberly
with your life
in that shopping cart.
I go back to comfort
whilst he pushes His
life around in a
shopping cart
His life.
His belongings.
Driving away with such
a sinking feeling
what the hell can one do?
Everyday I see homeless in this city
whilst other's are living in the richest
ways.
So much laid
across my Mother's back
her skin she shall shed.
Who do you think she'll show mercy too?
Me?
You?
Maybe that homeless man
who could say?
Sinking feelings
of sadness and grief
almost as if I am channeling in
his innermost thoughts
of what it's like to live and
breathe his day
his way.
Where are you now?
It's been hours since we
meshed and then
parted ways.
Are you warm?
Is your belly full?...
probably not dammit
this world is so cruel.
I'll think of you this night
(every night)
as a chill comes in the room
so many other's like you,
lost humans,
in a greying gloom.
11-6-06
Laura Horner
[comments] => 8
[counter] => 260
[topic] => 75
[informant] => deadheadpoet
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 15
[ratings] => 3
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => anguished
)
Shopping Cart
Contributed by
deadheadpoet
on
Sunday, 12th November 2006 @ 05:58:21 PM in AEST
Topic:
anguished
|
***author's note...I worked and reworked this piece. I wanted to convey so much to my reader what I saw and felt the night I saw this homeless man. I've never been so teary eyed working on a piece. This one was hard. (Where ever you are, my homeless brother, this is for you)***
Night and the
city is dark,
save for the
artificial lighting
like that
of a lit up Midway
with boisterous fair goers
on a warm July evening.
It is cool here
when sun sets. Ocean winds
blowing in. Wind
whipping palm fans vigorously
like a southern
belle would do
whilst sipping sweet tea
on the antebellum porch.
No warmth felt this evening...
November's fog comes in creeping
with aged crooked fingers
Eerie dust filled clouds
that look like no other
my country eyes have seen.
Smog, grey fog
they call it here
(like it's a pretty damn thing).
Then I see you
catching my ever searching eyes,
I loathe the city scene even more.
The smells of sewer
all things so damned impure.
There you are with your
disheveled superficies
shuffling along these god-forsaken
streets at night.
Carrying everything you own in
that shopping cart you sluggishly
push, as you watch the cars go by
(so fast).
I'm sitting here looking at you
stop light red
(maybe for the purpose to just see you)
wondering what the hell got
you Here
to this place.
My eyes fill with tears at the
thought of you
walking
pushing
maneuvering that damn cart
Where?
Cars streaming by
Where will you go, man?
Where do you hide?
Pillow and blanket in your
shopping cart
cardboard lines the bottom.
clothes in bags,
I suppose your treasures too, man.
Things tied on here and there
(this life that you live)
I can not imagine.
Little parts of me
want to follow you.
The need to know
who you are...
man in coat hanging so low
blue jean dirty
kyphotic stance
the coat looks like your shield
from a damn cruel world.
The stoplight turns green
we go on our way
you sir, continue down
the street, somberly
with your life
in that shopping cart.
I go back to comfort
whilst he pushes His
life around in a
shopping cart
His life.
His belongings.
Driving away with such
a sinking feeling
what the hell can one do?
Everyday I see homeless in this city
whilst other's are living in the richest
ways.
So much laid
across my Mother's back
her skin she shall shed.
Who do you think she'll show mercy too?
Me?
You?
Maybe that homeless man
who could say?
Sinking feelings
of sadness and grief
almost as if I am channeling in
his innermost thoughts
of what it's like to live and
breathe his day
his way.
Where are you now?
It's been hours since we
meshed and then
parted ways.
Are you warm?
Is your belly full?...
probably not dammit
this world is so cruel.
I'll think of you this night
(every night)
as a chill comes in the room
so many other's like you,
lost humans,
in a greying gloom.
11-6-06
Laura Horner
Copyright ©
deadheadpoet
... [
2006-11-12 17:58:21]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Shopping Cart
(User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on
Sunday, 12th November 2006 @ 06:39:33 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Woo,
Cccan'''''''t b leave I'm the first to comment here.
One can see, feel, and relate to these most caring, powerfull words.
I often pray more for the homeless this time of year.
girl, you should get an award for this masterpeice.
I've been down Valley boulavard etc. down that way. Also North Holliwood.
That's been a long time but I have no desire to see them again. I use to travel withh my kids biological father when he drove a truck.
Stay safe my sweet, traveling friend.
luv ya,
emy
The best hollidays ever.
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Re: Shopping Cart
(User Rating: 1 )
by yangdantien on
Sunday, 12th November 2006 @ 09:08:42 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Ah your empathetic soul lays out this tapestry and if only the ballet of living had such a keen sense of belonging but then thats maybe it. I live in South Florida where the homeless are just houseless and apply for services as transients or pick up here and there while sleeping on the beach..hard choices of hard action makes their home wider whcih makes it colder where one can lose ones life when the weather changes.
The nomadic streak of species still speaks and its your poetic heart that sheds a light here.
Great Job
Peace
AJPIII |
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|
Re: Shopping Cart
(User Rating: 1 )
by Vampirequeen on
Sunday, 12th November 2006 @ 11:59:07 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
I agree with what Emy said.
anyways Laura you have a very kind heart girl.
peace
hugs |
|
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Re: Shopping Cart
(User Rating: 1 )
by purplestary on
Monday, 13th November 2006 @ 10:03:46 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| wow.. an amazing write. your personality and talent shine. brilliant. thanks for posting this. |
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Re: Shopping Cart
(User Rating: 1 )
by one-curly-fry on
Monday, 13th November 2006 @ 04:37:38 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Powerful piece Laura!!
We're pretty lucky in Aust. There isn't as bad a problem of homelessness as there is in other places, although it still does exist here.
I reckon you'd really like some Orwell, Many of his books dwell on homelessness in England in the early to mid 1900's. I'd suggest 'A Clergyman's Daughter' - it has a vivid section of a cold night on the street. 'Down and Out in Paris and London' is another fairly good one.
The reason I suggest this is become, like his work, this one does make a person - sitting in a warm room, on their computer, realize the other side to life. The imagry it inspires, the questions you ask - they're all things that invoke empathy... Very well written!!
- Tim |
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Re: Shopping Cart
(User Rating: 1 )
by Whisper on
Thursday, 21st December 2006 @ 12:52:25 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
A fitting poem for the homeless men and women of the world. Homeless is all over. Here in Canada too, we have a plight. Strange how lands so rich like yours and mine can be so poor with the caring of others. Excellent write .
Whisper |
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Re: Shopping Cart
(User Rating: 1 )
by CuriousitysCat on
Friday, 12th January 2007 @ 10:16:56 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Oh man, I simply felt this write and the point at which it [i know this might sound cliche] really hit home was when you said:
"...almost as if I am channeling in
his innermost thoughts
of what it's like to live and
breathe his day
his way."
This blew me away, I have seen many homeless people too and no matter how many times I stop to give them money or try to steal some time away from the family to talk to them, it never feels better.
:|
Someday...
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Re: Shopping Cart
(User Rating: 1 )
by reprobate on
Saturday, 8th September 2007 @ 03:49:34 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
I know.
So, yeah, what they said.
thanks for sharing... |
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