Hamra Street

He dresses as the fool But does he fool you? In clothes of rent Torn twisted and bent He drinks to excess His voice is loud He spouts obscenities But he runs like the wind Catch, me if you can, he shouts The maze of traffic makes his jams He speaks in riddles Like old men, from ancient lands He collects bottles and begs for lamb He mumbles, I am homeless, kiss me hand He is crazy for this is sure He lives in alleys like a whore Jets above fly overhead Their orders received from a street called Hamra As their armies invade, so bold The homeless man, their leader The man from Hamra Notes: Hamra Street is a somewhat famous street in West Beirut. It was one of Beirut’s trendy areas before the civil war, and was frequented by poets, writers, and intellectuals. During the civil war, and before the Israeli invasion of 82, there was a bum who lived on Hamra Street who was really a spy for the IDF of Israel. No one paid him any attention, being a street beggar, at the time when there were many. Not only was he collecting intelligence, he was the running a network of spies at the time. From a Lebanese restaurant/coffee shop I frequent, I am told many fascinating stories from all over the world. What a lovely feeling to sit among people of all religions, nationalities and opinions, and share life’s experiences. Thank you Diwan Anyone who happens to have any first hand experiences referencing this poem, I would love to hear from them.