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Array ( [sid] => 24098 [catid] => 1 [aid] => Mick [title] => The Sandwich Makers [time] => 2003-09-29 23:25:00 [hometext] => A poem on kindness and human connections [bodytext] => Their small soft hands
briskly handle
bread, meat, and cheese
as they listen

They listen to some of us
they came to feed-
we three, coming to represent
the dispossessed;
those from the grates and alleys
who, at night, return
to dark deserted streets,
who know
the street is a desert;
sustenance comes from kind strangers
like the sandwich makers

These sandwich makers
interrupt their busy lives
of labor and aspiration
to listen to us three,
perhaps to learn
of broken folk,
of exotic creatures
who exist at the edge
of their familiar world,
who in the end,
are surprisingly human-

the cool philosopher,
the elegant dreamer,
the tattered freak
all, nearly human enough to touch

One sandwich maker,
all slim limbs
and big dark eyes,
grasps my hand
as she would never do on the street
and speaks to me,
discovering
we speak the same language

The language of those eyes
seems to ask
what broke me;
from me, there is no answer,
only helpless silence;
from her, silent assurance
that she is here
to see and listen
to the cool philosopher,
the elegant dreamer,
and the tattered freak,
exotic creatures,
all human enough to touch.

[comments] => 1 [counter] => 1903 [topic] => 21 [informant] => sugarboy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )

The Sandwich Makers

Contributed by sugarboy on Monday, 29th September 2003 @ 11:25:00 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems

Their small soft hands
briskly handle
bread, meat, and cheese
as they listen

They listen to some of us
they came to feed-
we three, coming to represent
the dispossessed;
those from the grates and alleys
who, at night, return
to dark deserted streets,
who know
the street is a desert;
sustenance comes from kind strangers
like the sandwich makers

These sandwich makers
interrupt their busy lives
of labor and aspiration
to listen to us three,
perhaps to learn
of broken folk,
of exotic creatures
who exist at the edge
of their familiar world,
who in the end,
are surprisingly human-

the cool philosopher,
the elegant dreamer,
the tattered freak
all, nearly human enough to touch

One sandwich maker,
all slim limbs
and big dark eyes,
grasps my hand
as she would never do on the street
and speaks to me,
discovering
we speak the same language

The language of those eyes
seems to ask
what broke me;
from me, there is no answer,
only helpless silence;
from her, silent assurance
that she is here
to see and listen
to the cool philosopher,
the elegant dreamer,
and the tattered freak,
exotic creatures,
all human enough to touch.

Copyright © sugarboy ... [ 2003-09-29 23:25:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Sandwich Makers (User Rating: 1 )
by painted_echos on Tuesday, 30th September 2003 @ 12:44:57 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

this is so powerful and thought provoking, so beautifully written. welcome to ypdc and hope to see more of your writing. m

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