I felt like a homeless in the banquet of life
I fed on leftovers
Of what angry gods had left.
They gather in restaurants
Discussing rising prices
Corrupt politics and religion
Developing new devices
At family gatherings
They talk of absent kin
How their weird ways
Have made them homeless again
In the community of hope
Where NPC's are living the dream
Coordinating plans to meet
Remove the splinter and keep the beam
At the heart of humanity
The scrolls are lighting with finish
The TRUTH of LOVE
Is the gold that radiates and will never diminish
While many count their blessings
And complain of fear mongering reels
The faithful are steadfast
In empty spaces feeling how it feels
...to be at peace without a home
Written by Trudy Schrader on 05-29-2026
Homeless
A hand reached out
And said, Hello
Startled was I
On the pavement.
Looking up
Through the sun’s morning glare
The outline of a silhouette
I now saw standing there.
Hello, it said so firm and clear.
I wasn’t sure what this meant
For so long the world had passed me by
Invisible to my stance.
So now I grappled
With the moment
Unable to comprehend
Hello, it said, this voice again.
Neither, could I
Smile or respond
I knew no longer how
For so many years had gone without.
Good morning to you
I hope you are well.
And the shadow passed on by.
My gaze long followed
And stunned was I.
Soon a feeling – oh, so foreign
Came into to me like a rush.
A trinkle of a rivulet
Filled my heart with warmth and hope
For a humanity long forgotten.
Homeless
having nothing
experiencing life
enjoying what life throws at me
living
"At least through what cold blows
Alive do feel!"
The most that some can say
About this day.
"No greater urge but to
Drunkingly reel".
Which is more than enough
To whom sleep rough.
white winter kisses
falling gently from snow clouds
frozen homeless man
You
Will
Have
Food
Shelter
Clothes
Guarantee
The homeless are not unskilled.
The homeless are not unlearned.
The homeless are not indolent.
The homeless are not lackluster.
The homeless are not those unready to embrace the dawn.
The homeless are not hesitant to walk into the daylight.
The homeless are not feeble or sleep-drunk.
They are not oblivious to the voice that speaks in the tranquil night.
The homeless are not afraid to journey into the unknown.
They are not uncalled or undesirous of a new beginning.
They are not frail-gifted.
They are the unprivileged.
They are those who have faced unfortunate circumstances.
They are the voiceless.
They are armed but unshielded.
They are a dim light waiting to shine.
They are those in the depths of the stygian night.
They are those seeking the stars to illuminate their long night.
December 31, 2025.
I've been hammering my hope with city sounds
Coffin nails clicking on concrete dreams
Smoke stacks preach,and I am their parishioner
Every alley is an altar,every streetlight a saint
I drink from the gutters of gospel graffiti
Find my reflection in broken bottles
And bless my sins with spit and asphalt
Homeless ones feel invisible,
Daily, they feel this way.
Because people, hundreds, pass by,
but never … a word say.
What makes me sad is knowing they’re
some Mother’s, dear lost child.
Missing years, why seldom seen these
Moms ever really ... smile.
Homeless have their own fears; some are
afraid to strangers speak.
Fear what could happen cause they’ve seen
too many … act like freaks.
Police know of rare 'brotherhood,'
among homeless exist.
Approach homeless wrong way,
what feel … will be their fist.
True, some want to be left alone,
But what about others?
In sidewalk "Tent Neighborhoods," some
act as … Dads and Mothers.
Homeless protecting each other’s
tents, and few belongings.
They’re ‘GOD SENDS”, til God’s Kingdom comes,
blessings … to all folks bring.
When God’s will is done on earth, all
Homelessness will cease.
Mental illness won’t plague mankind,
Moms' hearts … at last at peace!
Sept.15, 2023
An unkept man lay down on the cold street.
He had no blanket and nothing to eat.
People passed by, but no attention shone.
Not one penny shared to help him along.
Alone, beatdown, a nobody, and cursed.
His existence is viewed as less than dust.
Gets little from the bureaucratic maze.
Nothing but a bush to shelter his head.
Jesus had no home for rest.
But some offered Him their best.
Some held Him with contempt.
Yet to the cross for the world he went.
The homeless are some folk’s vile bitterweed.
They shout out, “Cut them down and burn their seed.”
Have they not heard the words of Christ Jesus?
“I was a stranger, and you took me in”.
No easy cures for this weight on our land.
Most agree it has gotten out of hand.
But stalwart and gallant souls must come forth.
And show that all of creation has worth.
When the world turns a blind eye
Others must say, “Here am I”.
And just who that may be?
It’s His church, called the ecclesia.
{Note: “ecclesia” in Greek: the “called-out (ones)”, i.e., the church.}
I rhyme for coins,I rhyme for fame,
But landlords rhyme with none of the same
They want rent,not metaphor
They say'' your poem won't mop the floor.
I wrote a sonnet,soft and brave-
He mailed it back: ''Pay or Pave!''
So now I rhyme to save my head,
My muse sleeps hungry, my landlord's fed.
The sun mounts over crumpled roofs and streets,
Beats from machetes and trombones disconcerts the air,
Brides and husbands-to-be bosa nova where joy and gossip meet.
Little ones run run past stalls,their joy sharp as knives,
Grandmas share gossip,drinking Joko Tea in chirped mugs.
While dear uncles sway,remembering old wasted lives
Smog billows from grills where meat roasts and fry,
Fires burn,mixing ululations and cheer,
Even the emaciated township dog pauses,ears to the sky.
Hubands-to-be jive,hats tilted,praising feats of might;
Ladies-in waiting in skirts that sparkle under sun.
Every furtive glance a nod and a story of delight.
As night comes,lanterns flicker in houses and alleys;
Music is tender,hearts stay buoyed and awake-
In hoboland love and joy endure amidst the pain.
dull blue bucket hat
green t-shirt that needs washing
sloppy camo pants
youthful beach comber
resting in the gritty sand
enjoying the sea
a panhandler
not intentionally
youthfully excited
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