Long Homeless person Poems
Long Homeless person Poems. Below are the most popular long Homeless person by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Homeless person poems by poem length and keyword.
Walking the local area coastline,
Cup of coffee in the local Café
Sitting, observing people passing
Checking on dress sense today,
Shoes, where did they purchase them?
Spotted a homeless person
Shabbily dressed and looking unkempt
He appeared increasingly in the landscape
Popping up in unusual places, staring at others faces.
I realised the picnic area was his hideout
Sleeping bags, plastic bags neatly stacked
He lay asleep on the grass.
Voices woke him from his slumber
Gave a glance, no words spoken.
He walked the village streets, locals avoiding him,
Winter set in, he lived in the cold of the picnic areas,
Spoke of his life when sitting in a comfortable home
The conversation always finished with such a shame.
One cold winters evening near Village shop
Aware of a homeless person sitting near
Huddled, sheltering from the cold wind on a street corner.
Decided to approach him, enough of wondering
Checked on what money I could share.
When approaching he stood as if frightened,
Standing close enough to touch each other
Weariness on his face, easily seen.
Eyes met in silence trying to understand what it was I wanted,
Asked quite bluntly, what and why,
No answers forthcoming just a shake of his head
His eyes showed such torment, emotions coming to the surface,
Never or ever again, seen such pain behind a gaze.
Reached to place money in a tattered trouser pocket
We shook hands, his hand having problems releasing from mine
His grip was quite strong as we exchanged this greeting
For an instant, a wry smile crossed his face.
Realised that he was a young person
His face showed his daily survival
He spoke a thank you, as goodbye was spoken,
Walked away with his eyes following.
The memories of meeting with this homeless soul
Went on and on and even visited dreams.
Not seen since this meeting
Moved on, looking for somewhere else safe to stay.
Positive thoughts of what he was doing
Imagining, what life was dealing him?
civilrights/votingrights/democracyreform
update on communication of opinion with senator warren
constitutional means and measure as provided in description of property
antitrust boredom
petrol
the contemporary lobbying for additional police
in policy writing equates
to the value of ignition of petrol
rather than the clerical error correction
of a homeless person becoming american
that prepaid property of the citizen is in trial
as evidence at the moment
exiting a sealed indictment for all
of those who accepted the transaction
ill gotten gains
from the ill in the streets
knowingly watching americans die
while issuance of wealth was described
in due process
allowance of interpretation of placement
of individual case by case of medical need
present day has concluded process of intelligent quotient ability
of laws to enforce death certificates as an economic
recovery interest in the mortality of exposure sector
of mathematical finite means for speech.
civil rights as commodity?
#civilrights #commodity #zen #buddhism
My best friend was on the phone,
laughing like a great aunt who had lost her mind
“Joe thought it was dead, but then he saw it making reservations with the dog,” I informed her. “We have a bunch of mice here, many pregnant.
Joe is sleeping outside in the car.
Yes....
My husband of forty-eight years is a bit prissy about small black rodents
full of diseases that run over his foot.
I was in the attic now, a dreary place where I barely dared to put down my lemonade for fear bats would be dive bombing into it or disemboweled entities would be spooking the dog who was crying at the bottom of the steps she cannot climb.
Scritch. Scratch. Scritch. Scratch. Scritch.
I could not tell which pile or garbage bag was making this curious sound.
Raccoons in the attic? Large insane squirrels? A homeless person living with us for the last sixteen years?
“I have to go,” I told my friend. “Family emergency.” I clicked her off.
My friends are okay with my rude ways, choosing to love me anyway.
The noise kept coming.
My attention was suddenly in a corner of a large wiggling garbage bag.
A mouse popped out of the top of it and ran toward me.
Then sixty-two more, a fountain of mice,
running in all directions.
I went downstairs and told my husband there was a black bag I could not lift.
I wandered to the kitchen to fix myself a light lunch, my favorite, a peanut butter, Miracle Whip, lettuce sandwich. I had to scoot two mice off the top
of the peanut butter lid.
But I said "excuse me" of course.
I nearly dropped a gallon of milk when I heard his scream.
I imagine he scared every last rodent out of the house.
Joe is my go-to-man.
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
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
"One Road leads to tension and worry; one road leads to fear and dread.
My road leads me home to tranquility, to peace, serenity and solitude."
Quote by _Constance
A safe haven,
a home I call my nest;
created piece by piece by piece,
fabricated with all the items that I love.
Each room a place of peace,
like a bird 'building' a nest I have gathered things;
beautiful things that bring serenity and joy,
this is my safe harbor from life.
It is a grand mansion to me,
tranquility is in each room;
I breathe in the harmony and the solitude.
no matter what is happening beyond.
Once the door closes I am safe . . .
protected within my nest from the strains of life.
There is 'tension,'
in todays restless world;
the constant worry of a war,
dread, fear, and malaise at too high-priced groceries.
People are under stress,
it makes them agitated, hostile, lashing out;
there is the threat of global warming- senseless killing.
How can I save the animals ?
How can I stem world starvation ?
Oh, what if I can save just one cat or,
dog? Or help a homeless person in some way?
Why do I feel like a wilted flower ?
And seek the security of my nest . . .
that place assembled piece by piece for peace.
I bet your beds comfy,
I imagine it smells of flowers and vanilla,
Or just the smell of clean,
And you have pillows,
Big soft voluptuous pillows,
And sheets,
Clean sheets.
I could sleep forever in a bed like that,
Literally forever,
And I bet you don’t even think about it,
Because it’s just a bed to you,
And it is,
Id probably cry if I could climb into like that everyday,
I’d cry if I could climb in for one day,
An hour or two,
The comfort would be amazing but -,
probably too comfortable for someone like me,
I’m used to the cardboard thats under me,
And Im quite attached to the bag that I sleep in,
Even the smell settles me,
And trust me when I tell you -
It’s not flowers or vanilla !
The noises of the night are my lullabies,
And the crisp cut of the cold keeps me alert,
Keeps me safe,
You probably wouldn’t understand,
But I’m glad of that,
A bed would be nice,
The comfort would be nicer,
But it’s the home that it’s in that makes it special,
A comfy bed - that’s safe, in a house,
A home,
Secure,
Free from the fear of a random threat,
That’s why you can sleep so well in your comfy bed,
Because your safe,
Because your free to sleep,
Where as my sleep can cost me dearly,
If I fall asleep I can lose the little that I have,
Even the shoes off my feet,
If I fall asleep I could be woken with a kick or a punch,
If I fall asleep,
I might not wake up at all,
So your bed is comfy and would be nice,
But it’s the fact you can sleep freely which is special,
So treasure your bed,
Enjoy your sleep,
And be thankful for your freedom.
I’m not jealous ,
I wouldn’t wish my situation on anyone,
I don’t even wish it on myself but I accept it,
If I fought it I wouldn’t be here now.
All I ask is that -
Next time you see a homeless person,
Remember a little kindness goes along way.
Life’s a funny bugger -
There was a time when I had a comfy bed,
In a nice loving house,
There was a time when I would look at the homeless I passed in the street,
Never once imagining that the cardboard mattress next to them was reserved for me
So sleep well good people,
Treasure what yo have because time is fleeting,
Good fortune is a gift,
When you climb into your bed tonight,
Stop for a second to appreciate it,
Just ..... appreciate it for me,
Because I can’t.
Not right now anyway,
But hey -
It is what it is.
I once went on a missionary journey
to the west coast of Africa, the motherland
the experience changed my life forever
and my conception of each and every man
I lived as a homeless person,
working on the street shining shoes
I lived one day of my life
like the less fortunate always do
I experienced the hungers pains and the despair
that they always feel
I learned It's not important what you possess in this world
but are you willing to share your last meal
when I returned back home to America
the man that I had shined shoes with
asked me to send him only a dictionary
but instead I sent an entire care kit
I was sad in the beginning
when they told me there were no more missionary slots
but after I prayed to my Lord God
He opened up for me a spot
The Lord God desired that I be
on that missionary tour
for the knowledge that I've brought back
has benefited me and so many more
I now know not to be quick to judge others
until one can comprehend
you don't know of their circumstances in life
or where they might have been
until you've walked in some else's shoes
only then you will see
that It's not about the things you possess in this word
It's about your spiritual journey
I feel the spirit of Christmas all around me
The spirit of Christmas is in the air
Especially during December
The spirit of Christmas is all around me
It’s buying coffee or tea for a homeless person to warm their insides
It’s writing a letter to a friend or relative
It’s knitting and crocheting and then giving your knitted and crocheted items to the needy
It’s giving your time to volunteer
The spirit of Christmas
It’s all around me
it gives me chills and makes me smile
I feel the spirit of Christmas all around me
The spirit of Christmas is in the air
The spirit of Christmas is all about contributing to society and making a difference one step at a time
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