Soggy Ramen
By: Fawn P.
August 28th, 2026
One day…
You’ll be stuck in a loop,
Infernal, constant, unable to change,
If you're lucky it'll last a second,
If not a year,
You'll tear open a pack,
You'll save the left over dust,
Then…
You'll wait…
At first you’ll be perfect,
Your bowl well filled,
But slowly your oasis dries,
Next…
You'll wait longer…
Worms swell bigger sliding around dirt,
Made from liquid gold,
They shimmer as you watch,
Your bowl fills full now,
Your oasis less empty,
Finally…
You’ll stall…
Watch the worms,
Watch them slither and stretch,
White, pasty,
fragile…..
Your bowl is fool,
Your oasis less bear,
You sprinkle it in glitter,
Glitter makes it shine again,
Your mind eats before your mouth,
Your hands break,
as they grip and drag the brain,
The worms are squirming,
So, slippery,
So, hard to grip,
“Stop moving!” you’ll cry,
They already have,
Have they ever moved?
Did you watch them squirm?
They lay limp,
Dead and empty,,
But still swelled thick,
With liquid gold
Your bowl feel fool,
But the liquid gold is gone….
When I stare into the crowd
I feel a pain so low
The uselessness I bear
Keeps me away from the glow
Walking around just to keep
warm during the day.
People so hostile saying get out of my way.
As night time approaches, we huggle up in the cold.
In some damp subway making me feel so old.
Rats keep us company their whispers filling the night.
Continuing for hours until the morning light.
Awakened forcefully to another dreaded day.
Picking up my belongings and being told to go on my way.
Hunger fills my soul with regrets from the past.
I really don't know how long I can last.
Carrying life's possessions all in my hands
Walking with no directions along this cruel land.
One of these days I may find my way again.
Until that time arrives, my soul will bear the pain.
Homelessness, at the present
time is happening all the time
All around the world
Can't make ends meet
A life defeat
A lifetime change
Or by choice
Found myself like this
Did not want to miss
The chance put down
All happenings around
I approached the familiar chair,
And sat, breathing out the stress of the day.
Looking around, familiar faces with almost-remembered names
Flashing back and forth on the TV.
In my hand is just water,
But it feels like a tell.
I sit, all my possessions within reach.
Everything that makes me what I thought was
Unique
Fearless
Strong
Is hidden behind my leg.
Embarrassment and shame engulfs me again.
Another hotel lobby, because no bed welcomes me.
A bag filled with donated miscellaneous mystery meat
Cans I bow down for, gratitude for something
For something someone found.
From Easter, or Christmas, 15-20-30 years past.
No good for people,
To the homeless it's passed.
The chair is familiar.
It is the chair I sat in when I realised -
Pity is not low enough,
Disgust is not deep enough.
You know how you feel when you see them.
Sat outside because no one welcomes us in.
That bitter Midwest wind attacks me
I sit on the bench and I shiver
My old farmer's coat protects me
A grand blessing which I cherish
I think of that homeless guy
He slept on this bench years ago
I think that he's dead now
At least I can go home
the nations out, working hard
and getting no reward
weekly shoppings on the list
of things we can’t afford
young mums having to choose
to feed their babies or themselves
opening their cupboards
to see nothing on the shelves
each child gets one piece of toast
while parents do without
because in dark times
love is sacrifice
and with that love there is no doubt
families going cold
with no money for central heating
because if they were warm
then for a week they wouldnt be eating
people asleep on concrete floors
with just a backpack to their name
nowhere to stay
nowhere to go
no idea who to blame
people are losing their homes
while others are swimming in money
it may sound like a joke
but i assure you
it’s not funny
it’s easy to say you sympathise
when it’s not effecting you
your not a child
going to school
with holes in each shoe
people shouldn’t be worrying
about how to feed their kids
they just want to give them a good life
but society forbids
there’s nothing you can do
when your just one amongst the crowd
but as long as your trying your best
then for that, you should be proud.
Waking up every day freezing cold
Feeling way lower than low
Feet hurt from walking,
cause you got nowhere to go
Everything you own in tow
Wishing you would have just known how to grow and let go of all of the pain and hurt
that encompassed your soul
And kept you from ever feeling whole
As long as you can remember,
You just wanted to be loved
But since the day you were born,
your mother made sure you knew
you would never be enough.
And every time push came to shove
You always came up short
from whatever it was
shtt fckn rough..
life always been way too tough.
Never known even an ounce of luck.
Trying so hard to give a fckk.
Prayin to have a chance to come up
But it seems ya missed that truck
On a dead end,one way road
.....just stuck
The homeless sleep outside empty buildings
large enough to house them all
where pennies pinched cost more than you spent
measured against the rise and fall
to set your stall when others lose it
together propped and prepped was key
standing tall where ever you sit
a fallen oak is still a tree.
BY THE STREETLAMP
Poem written for SENSE OF TASTE POETRY CONTEST, Nette Onclaud, Sponsor July 28, 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
she hunkers by the streetlamp
wrapped in a tattered blanket
lost in the cracks of concrete
swallows tangy bitterness
bitter brew of circumstance
choking on acrid despair
savoring sweet solitude
You are gone and I am okay.
In fact, I wanted it this way.
For you, life was a machete.
I always wished you to be free.
Leaving us for months, sometimes years,
made me often spill grieving tears
or scream aloud my sibling's plea.
I always wished you to be free.
I lived with a broken heart stain
and thought with an aching brain strain.
Was such fated for you and me?
I always wished you to be free.
Even though due to a health lack,
I was glad events brought you back.
Three years joined before death took thee.
I always wished you to be free.
"In the USA, vacant homes by thousands thrive,
while countless homeless struggle to survive.
In a land of plenty, such homes stand bare,
as lost souls grow, wandering in despair."
Is today a new year in any way?
Thirty first and first look too much the same.
The snows that the sky and cold winds still spray,
Are still making me feel cold without blame.
Hardship bought me no coat on a cold day.
Homelessness is what they falsely proclaim.
But there, in their closets coats beg to leave.
My back pleads for a reprieve from cold's siege.
Its a cold December and there is reason to believe
The establishment wants the homeless dead
No fire no embers, each and all of us grieve
That bitter cold wind causing our bodies to seize
the people on a merry dance have been led
Its a cold December and there is reason to believe
That jack Frost stalks the land looking for victims to seize
No food no water no shelter no bed
No fire no embers, each and all of us grieve
these people dying alone on a winter’s eve
no compassion no charity no tears are shed
Its a cold December and there is reason to believe
We all go on with our lives like were so naive
winters wind so cold no blood is bled
No fire no embers, each and all of us grieve
common sense mocks us as death is hard to perceive
whatever happened to give us this day our daily bread
Its a cold December and there is reason to believe
No fire no embers, each and all of us grieve
Why were you at the canal so long?
Even you said that its a wasteland.
Reclamation of this waste,
so its true artisan nature can thrive.
I've seen so many artists out there just like you,
but you say its dangerous.
We can't lose artists,
what would happen if there were no artists?
I know you don't want me around that avenue,
but I had to find you.
I found you with your blue bike,
I saw your tire was broke down.
I saw the police take down a person,
I saw the fentanyl.
I saw the ducks,
I saw the canal.
Sun on the ground, warm on the bottom.
Heat from the bricks.
In that moment troubles forgotten.
Winter rain brings misery, soaked to the bone.
nothing dries, you still cry.
Never felt so alone.
Stranger propositions make you feel as worthless as can be.
Sins a plenty offered.
Can anything be sold for a fee?
The kindness of strangers is not always what it seems.
A price never expected to pay.
but you say you're living the dream.
Let me be your helping hand, clarity and scope.
The signpost and navigator.
The warm embrace of hope.
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