Best Homeless Person Poems
We are all a product of our environment
Under different influences
Each one of us could have been a terrorist or a man of God
A President or a homeless person sleeping in the street
It's the luck of the draw... or is it
Are we not in charge of our own destiny
Can we not overcome the trials that life has in store for us
To become an upstanding individual to be proud of
Whether rich in monetary terms
Or just rich in the ways of living
The ability to reach out and change someone's life
To make another person happy
Is there any greater reward or feeling of satisfaction than that
They say everyone was put here on earth for a reason
Whether it's a lofty world changing event
Or just an act of kindness towards those the less fortunate souls
It matters not, we have made a difference
So next time you question your purpose here on earth
Just remember... even the simplest act of kindness
Is richly rewarded and never forgotten
What sort of homeless person would I be
Would I cart all these books everywhere with me
Would I scream and shout to keep the world at bay
Or would I nod and smile by my tin cup each day
Would I dress real well, try to look like a swell
Or would I let myself go, not put on a show
Would I turn to drugs or would I stick with booze
What would I have to lose
Would I rant and rave about equality
And how you look right through me
Or would I understand -
you need to keep what you’ve got
You don’t want to land in this spot
Would I have any hope, would there be any rope
Gone are the jobs that kept the unlucky on track
Now the squirrels are on crack, the humans on smack
The armpit of L.A. gets hairier by the day
My boat rocks gently under a reddening sun,
is it wrong to wish for a Viking burial,
to ponder a last journey West
into the dying light?
Strangers have always been my friends,
they intuit
the liquid and inflammable nature
of this thing we do.
I could rest my soul here in this skiff
on this one long warm wave of evening;
let the wooded lands and sloping meadows,
the dredged, smoke-stacked barge brimming ports,
the patched up river towns slip on by
under the kindling sails of evening clouds.
I am laid out like a homeless person
bundled up in my rags and tinder,
a shadow in a small boat, drifting.
Night falls to the water
the words of strangers flame high
fire starters and their poems gleaming
as the dark rushes in.
I hitch the boat to a stump of land,
still imagining a Viking funeral,
but also resigned to a tomorrow -
yet another strange place
to play with this fire.
S - tart by finding your own happiness in life
P - oliteness to others is always important
R - emember birthdays and special occasions
E - ye contact and smiling encourages others
A - nd listen to someone's problem without interrupting
D - on't ever judge people just give them a chance
I - nitiate conversations even with strangers
N - ames make people happy so use theirs often
G - ive to your community with donations and time
H - appily share your skills, like teaching poetry or art
A- nd laugh because it brings joy to people you meet in a day
P - raise and compliments are uplifting so give plenty
P - ut together some care packages and deliver to the sick or poor
I - nstead of bad news spread only good news
N - othing spreads happiness like kindness so always be kind
E - ven to that bedraggled homeless person begging for money
S - pend time with family, friends, and even strangers
S - how your gratitude, say thank you a lot
________________________
March 21, 2023
Poetry/Acrostic/SPREADING HAPPINESS
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1532-997-21
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, SPREADING HAPPINESS
sponsor, Anoucheka Gangabissoon, Judged 04/15/2023
Third Place
My best recall is that I saw her for the first time at a Starbucks store several weeks ago. Approaching the door with two large bags, she hesitated and seemed puzzled. I suspected she knew that she was welcomed to enter, but the bags would be forbidden. I sensed that she was concerned about her bags and whispered, "I will watch them for you". She quickly obliged as her perplexity vanished, and she, with a sense of ease, entered the store.
I have seen her several times since as a faceless, unemotional, and very gentle homeless person. But last Saturday, I saw her in a very different light as I was engaged in conversation with a couple of friends. I tell you, life is such a joy if we dare take a moment to capture what so few of us seem to notice.
As we were conversing and laughing, I looked to my right and was arrested by a beautiful smile. Suddenly, she had a warm connection with us, and our eyes and smiles assured her of our love. Suddenly, the homeless, the faceless, and the nameless lady was being enriched by our conversation. Perhaps she remains homeless, but a snapshot of her emotion and smiling face now rest in our hearts.
10312018PoSoupContest, Early November 2018, Brain Strand; 1P
Everyone's Prayer
Let us all join hands and pray for eachother today.
Some of us are sick. Some of us have problems.
Some of us are married. some of us are not. but
we all go through rough times in this life.
Today - we will get together and bow our heads
before GOD. We thank you GOD for the blessings
you have given us. We know that you give us more
then what we deserve. We thank you too, for the
problems we have. They make us come and seek you.
Sometimes Disasters happen and we wonder - why.
If they happen some where else, we think that we are
safe. But when they happen close to home - we don't
know where to turn. Give us the wisdom, give us the
courage, give us the strength we need to help our sisters
and brothers.
We ask you to have mercy on the soildiers at WAR.
Have mercy on the ones in the hospital, the ones that
are bed ridden at home. Have mercy on the children
that are abused everyday, on the homeless person,
that dosen't have something to eat.
Have mercy on the people in jail and the ones in prison
too. Please JESUS help us not to JUDGE others, so that
we too - won't be JUDGED. Help us to be MERCIFUL of one
another. Help us to be a better person, then what we
were yesterday . AMEN....
04/21/2013
For Anne's contest
THE ECHOES IN THE COSMOS
In silence of sleep, I slept.
From the warmth of cava manifested remembrance.
The dreamlike state I was in is where the echoes of the past hid.
As I languor, I became contented.
The half-moon was elevated above.
The voices were the echoes I heard.
Time had passed so fast.
The slumber was much needed even when there were no stressors to speak on.
This is cultivation of perfection via mind, body and soul.
Totalizing the spiritual form, the echoes enlightened knowledge and acumen.
Reverberations that is resonance refined awareness of divinity.
Where the mind escapes reality.
Further, my spirit reverent in awe of what I am being shown.
The echoes gave intuition to life known.
Like Scrooge mettle as he journeys through life transgression, life existing, and life forthcoming, a prophetic path partook.
I am drinking sparkling wine and laughing with everyone.
The echoes become intense to fashion a mind-set.
An eye of sagacity took shape.
Penetrating thoughts brought forth the existing world where people smiles were not true and their loving voices misconstrued.
The echoes were not hidden anymore, as I am to be the fool unearthed.
Lies, discrimination, and injuries became a worm’s hole, insofar as a homeless person miens to be an empty soul.
Where the echoes hide within the cosmos.
__________________________________________________________________|
Scribe December 11, 2015!
We should all know that we come from a chaotic past,
To an info-tech age moving way to fast.
In our lives sometimes we are at our lowest low;
We all need a rope, a helping hand that will grab tight and never let go.
“Did you ever comfort or help someone that was old?”
“Did you ever give a homeless person a place to go or food when it was cold?”
Have you held a door for someone entering or exiting a store?
Or do you hurry in yourself, thinking "it's really not your chore".
In life each road is long, though short it seems, but it is definitely longer.
To where each road meets just the same, but we can make it better.
In life all roads lead to where we go,
Help someone less fortunate and be their hero.
We are the fatalities of greed, and we are fixated over getting younger.
In this rich and blessed world we still endure hunger.
We should not be judged by our religion or the color of our face,
Because in the end, we're all running this same race.
Some of us are not heading in the same direction but hoping to go to the same
place.
By now I was hoping and praying that love is what we desire to embrace.
We must take control of our actions today;
Or the children of tomorrow will be the one's to pay.
Kindness is the golden chain by which society is bound together.
- Johann von Goethe
Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.
- Mark Twain
One epic Saturday morning
The heavens and winds subduing
To permit my soul to freeing
The escaping on the road enjoying
When I heave and legs pounding
Heart throbbing and hands waving
To every car and person passing
Over every pothole and stone leaping
Can’t stop for anything or nothing
When this rhythm gets me going
Faster and further I’m moving
Miles and miles of distance covering
Over hills and valleys travelling
Bridges and train tracks crossing
Cool breezes in my face blowing
My body sweating starts tingling
From head to toe so exhilarating
My heart smiling my soul calming
My thoughts clearing my mind opening
Legs stretching home striding
Sirens ringing lights flashing
Police racing past cashing
Cars hooting onto the paving
Safer here that where taxis are driving
Some braking wheels squeaking
Kids laughing out with mom shopping
Fingers pointing curiously staring
Homeless person at the robot bagging
My mind preparing next street turning
Up the hill climbing arms pumping
The sun shining my back burning
Tank empty, but somehow enduring
Still wondering ... can’t stop thinking
About this love that I’m feeling
From this natural high I’m getting
Another dose of good medicine
A spiritual rejuvenation
Thank you Lord I’m praying
For this wonderful gift so blessing
Another beautiful run ending
Not all persons who roam the streets are homeless and not all homeless people roam the streets;
Whatever are the circumstances which result in a person living on the streets, whether it is by unfortunate situation behind one control or whether it is by choice this homeless situation must be taken into deep consideration and be addressed as a matter of humanitarian importance and that is why within my opinion governments should set up a task force which can look into and examine the matter of the homeless / street people on a case by case basis.
By doing so they would search and find out the status and families of each homeless person, then they would be able to determine which persons can be re-united with family members who are willing to take such responsibility and whoever aren't able to be re-united with family can be placed into government operated homes or place into the care of associated private organizations which also operate homes which can facilitate these homeless / street people.
So many times the homeless persons suffer abuse of all sorts, verbal and physical because society fail miserably to understand another persons unfortunate situation.
Many among us will consider our homeless / street people as nuisance simply because of the lack of love and tolerance toward our fellow human who continue to share with us this same space on earth but find themselves in a position which is often laughed and rejected by wider society.
Each person within a society is of great importance and for any country to grow and prosper its people must be invested in and health and education are two important areas to start such investments whether such persons are homeless or otherwise; in keeping with the charitable act of humanity governments should provide homes for the homeless / street people who live and roam the streets.
Breathing in and savoring the aromatic
fragrance of an opened Princess Diana rose.
Being there and watching my daughter
being born.
Feeding a homeless person and enjoying
his company and sharing conversation to
learn of his life.
Picking a needy charity and giving
knowing it will benefit a needy child or
person in need.
Looking into my daughter's eyes and
telling her I love her and I will always be
there for her.
Hugging all of my family and telling them
that I love each and everyone of them.
Holding my wife and telling her how much
I appreciate all she is and expressing my
love to her.
Thanking every man and woman in uniform
for their great service to our nation.
Walking through the forest in the fall
holding hands with my wife and taking in
nature's beautiful changes.
Shoveling my old neighbors driveway
because I know she can't do it herself.
Cooking my favorite dish and enjoying
and savoring every morsel.
Remembering the friends I made along
life's journey.
Thanking my Lord for all he has done and
given to me.
Michael Tor 9/25/2015 What Life Means To You. Sponsored by Nayda Negron
I am a high school graduate and a former college student
I have no children
No drug or alcohol addiction
nor do I have a home
I am one of Brick City's homeless
Many of the faces I've seen downtown are the same faces I see at the soup kitchen or the shelter
The same quirky, ragged, foul-smelling, quiet homeless people
But these aren't the only homeless people
Many of the faces I've seen at the soup kitchen or at the shelter,
I've also seen downtown
The same outgoing, inconspicuous and "average" yet homeless people
I used to assume I'd pass up to 10 of the same homeless people downtown
Now that I'm one of them
and pretty much every homeless person knows every homeless person
You'd probably feel blessed and highly favored when I tell you that the majority of adult pedestrian traffic downtown are homeless United State citizens
The majority are homeless
We're at the library, McDonald's, Penn Station, 18 Rector, 50 South Clinton, all Essex County Parks, 990, Red Doors, St. Johns
or the sidewalk with our book bags, purses, suitcases and our will, however weak or strong, to live for right now
We get in where we fit in
The most thrilling part of my day is knowing what time the next soup kitchen serves and when I'm unconscious and dreaming
Most are not bums
Most are caught in a cyclical cycle of destitution because they have a record and can't qualify for anything other than a 9-5
Or don't have a job because there are no jobs and don't have anyone to take care of them without taking advantage of their situation, be it sexually or by an unfair criminal or immoral request
Most of us just can WAIT until!
. . . and there's no one here to help me right now
I understand though:
It's likewise
This homeless lifestyle encourages me to keep dreaming, faintly hope and never expect anything
My high hopes and expectations left me ____ out in the streets of Newark
It's 4 o'clock
. . . On to the next soup kitchen
For all of this apparent tragedy in her life, and truly it all only set the stage for my
mother’s soul growth in this experience, what I remember most about my mom is her courage, her compassion and her ever-present service through her Words of Encouragement project that she carried on for the last nearly forty years that she was on this earth. She would collect inspirational writings, sometimes writing her own, and send them to her list of people “in bereavement”. She would volunteer at some local church that would allow her to print copies for mailings. People inspired by her faith would donate envelopes and postage so she could continue mailing Words of Encouragement to people she learned about who were dealing with some kind of difficulty or loss in their life. After she died, we found she had maintained a carefully hand-written log of all the people she sent mailings to over the years. This was her form of “selfless service” and I’m certain that it was her service to others that kept her in the world when it would have been so easy for her to just give up finally.
I learned from my mother that we can pull ourselves out of our depression and self-absorption by turning our gaze outward and giving service in one way or another, how ever it is we can find a way to serve our brother. Even though it appears we have no material worth and nothing at all to give, on some level my mom understood the value and importance of giving encouragement to one another. She faced enormous loss, criticism and complete lack of support throughout her life but, time and time again, she found the courage to rise above, call to Holy Spirit for help, and carry on ... giving whatever she could give, whether it was a place to sleep on her couch for a homeless person, finding a market for handmade crafts created by women in prison, or even if all she could give was a Word of Encouragement.
Mom was born on February 11, 1928 and passed away on April 4, 2002.
In the past I made many resolutions
To stop smoking
Eat less and exercise more
Go the gym
Walk the dog
Endure these activities
Even though they’re a complete bore
Although never quite successful
We all do it as an annual event
Do what you can for the elderly and infirm
Giving to charity
As much as we can afford
Help a child in crisis to give them hope
Something they may not have experienced before
Helping in a homeless shelter
Makes you appreciate your life as it is
Donating old clothes
To keep less fortunate others warm
Giving a homeless person food
We all have so much these days
It always feels good to give more
It is hard to give up the things you like
But so many things get in the way
I still smoke and eat more than I should
Not set foot in the gym that cost me so dear
Don’t take more exercise than I need
Made the same promises year after year
Feel a failure when I do not succeed
So my last resolution
I have kept for many years now
Be nice to others
Volunteer when time will allow
Give what I can when I can
To be a good human being
Who needs a resolution to live by this anyhow?
Written In Beige
Against the bleak bank wall he leans
as the sidewalk moves sideways
across his tangential thoughts.
People pass, the dull parade,
the money-grubbers and hoarders
in their shiny suits that mock
his existence. Sad clouds meld
into a sullen gray sky…it must be raining
somewhere. Clink! Silver coin
rattles metal can. He wonders, when
did the colours disappear?
The pungent aroma from Mickey’s
Taco Wagon punishes his senses
and his eyes begin to leak. He’s hungry.
There was a time when his words
were golden, a rainbow of passion.
He had a family, people who loved him.
A November wind kicks him…no, wait!
Security guard motions as another
peers from behind motion-sensing
cameras. Not wanted. He disappears
next to the discoloured taupe wall.
The mystery: how did his life story
get written in beige?
*Note: this is written in honour of a homeless poet named Raimundo Arruda Sobrinho but, in essence, for every homeless person.