Long Homelessness Poems
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I The Phoenix
I recall in my youth how the world around me seemed so alive vibrant in color and beauty. As I aged this beauty faded and was replaced with a new world filled with shades of grey. Life rushed by me quickly, I was no longer able to see the beauty around me. The longer I lived in this new world the more my spirit faded.
One day this new world came crashing down around me and I was left alone, abandoned in the streets. Overcome with fear and loathing I wandered aimlessly among the dispirited and walking dead. I survived on the pity and sustenance portioned out to the lost souls.
I found myself pondering my youth as I walked the streets and wondered where that world had gone. My eyes saw things along the sidewalk that inspired my imagination, I kept these as mementos of life lost. These tidbits of refuse I examined and again found vibrant color and beauty. I began to piece these small tokens together and slowly recreated my youthful vision.
Casting aside my thoughts of returning to the life that had drained away my spirit. I became whole again, I now dwell again in those vibrant colors and an abundance of happiness as were in my youth. Society will not number me among it's herded numbers of spiritless victims.
Authors Note:
3 years of homelessness and destitution opened my eyes and reignited my spirit. If you feel you have lost your way, cast off everything and start anew.
Let’s lay aside the bickering,
and let’s start all over again.
Let’s decide standing together,
is the only way we can win.
Let’s forget about this fighting,
then we can bring wars to an end.
Because we are the ones losing,
while evil is the one that wins.
Set aside all of this hatred,
so we can make another start.
But we must decide together,
to let love and peace fill our heart.
Let’s lay aside all this killing,
then maybe we just might begin.
To realize we are equal,
despite the color of our skin.
Forget righteous indignation,
believing other views are wrong.
We can have a sweet melody,
though we sing a different song.
If we stop all this destruction,
then maybe this earth can repair.
All the damage caused by humans,
because we just didn’t seem to care.
Quit hiding behind deception,
and try to live in honesty.
We can forgive our father’s sins,
but we must learn from history.
Let’s put away all prejudice,
that we can all dance the same dance.
We can then live in harmony,
if we give tolerance a chance.
Let’s put an end to greediness,
by taking only what we need,
Maybe we just might end hunger,
or homelessness and poverty.
We must no longer turn our backs,
towards our neighbor or our friend.
But turn to them with open arms,
and welcome each one of them in.
Then we can look up to heaven,
we will not be ashamed to say.
That we followed his instructions,
and helped make it a better day.
I Reckon Eyes Personal Necessity,...
Sans Arduous Ordeal
To assess meager
cradling aborted efforts
miscarried ambitions, I now berate
myself plethora sans lack
of accomplishments to date
and admit painful truth to self
of an ill prosperous lx roam man fate,
which life frivolous erratic
antics less productive slate
than if existence spent hovered
over an inter city heating grate
since squelched milestones wrought hate
red of apathy toward self, and spate
of penuriousness a tete a tete
meager financial cushion barely
keeps homelessness will ne'er abate.
~ April 13th, 1958 marked approximate initial
biological, chronological, and fetal ugh glue
tin nation, asper obstetric
prenatal confirmed commencement, in situ
i.e. womb (donned in his cute
itty bitty cap and gown), whence through
uneventful conception nine months
later lacked any blues clue
nonetheless, this earth
ling christened Matthew
Scott Harris made his unheralded debut,
albeit, then his
anatomical timer immediately
started counting down, loo
ping what seemed an eternity,
when mortality would be due,
vis a vis, meanwhile,
he awakened, discovered,
and galvanized transient
tenancy as he grew
since birth year month, and
date stamped upon this growing hue
man, who possibly felt thrust
out from warmth of womb
into ice cold sterility naked
like an Arctic monkey freezing in an igloo
a singular diaspora of
this "FAKE" gentile jew.
he wondered through the empty corridor
awaiting a sudden movement
within the vagueness that had bestowed
the value of his timid gestures aroused
only by the rushing wind beneath his beard
silently he'd begun to whisper tainted
tormented views he'd often yearned to be
educated of life's simple sorts of wild tempered
laughter eagarly he'd gaze into a chartered sphere
leaving himself out coasting along the banks
of Alzheimer's wits his teeth chattered as memories
unfold into channels of non awareness followed
by traces of poverty and wrath his eyes squinted
as he sighed of homelessness and a meaningful
craving of cottage cheese churned to perfection
without any effort he'd remember a youth
not of his own he blinked of a sullen home
a pulley a hoe a tire swing hanging from a tree
he glanced in a copper pan and chanted are you me
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….
a city
hungover
wakes slowly
to silence
and lights that
keep watch
over night
the red
and red amber
the green
amber
red
on still streets with
no traffic in sight.
railings and
stone steps
lead down to a
basement
where graffiti
conceals a
locked door
and where bins
overflowing
with bottles
and chip trays
spew half eaten
food
to the floor.
a pigeon
whose body
attempts
as it struts
to try
to catch up
with its head
flaps and then
makes for
what looks like
the inside
of a sandwich
set free from
its bread.
as blocked grids
and clogged gutters
sip dregs
of drain water
left over
from midnight's
wild rain
there are blankets
in doorways
and the red
red and amber
and green
amber
red once again.
HOMELESS
Every sentiment gradually or suddenly gone,
Smells in the kitchen, that graced the home,
Every precious little treasure, given great care,
All that once was, no longer there.
Like a boulder a victim of circumstance,
tragically beholding the loss at first glance.
At the stake of a man’s pride and dignity,
A blow below the belt, and cut down at the knee,
Who knew that all that there was, was at stake,
For the right, for the wrong, to selfishly take,
The walk out the door and down the street,
Aimless existence, the bittersweet.
Sentencing now done, a living suicide,
The living dead to the world, just trying to survive,
Restore to the man a reason to be,
More than just existing, another day to see,
In a car, on a bench, under a tree...
Whatever the reason, however it happened; homeless.
Our mayor and city council know what to do
The county supervisors and talk show hosts too
Budget measure HHH we Angelinos passed
Costing billions, homelessness would end at last
There were 57,000 unhoused in L.A. last year
Now it’s 68,000, growing with elections near
The garment district downtown and all of skid row
Are squalid tent camps where filth and despair flow
From the Valley, to Hollywood, out to the beach
Huddled in parks, under bridges, hills out of reach
Some scream and curse, drugged or drunken
Others silent and still, bodies broken, spirits sunken
They’re bad for business, they spread disease!
Will our elected officials do something? Please!
Neglected, abused, mentally ill
There’s really no urgent civic will
Some may receive disability pay
Enough for liquid comfort, but a room? No way
A lifelong Angelino, I feel enraged and defeated
For I see my town by how our worst off are treated
5/31/22
In me, the first day of school is relentless
I wake with old dreads lodged in my chest
My home moves endlessly, it’s countless
Now every moment is a painful unrest
In my breast lies constant trepidation
The first time, I wept for a home longingly
Now I carry homelessness as an affliction
The new kid in me never leaves quietly
New friends are no longer entertainment
Friendship seeps cold in my soul reluctantly
Bred alone I crave crisp disentanglement
Nurture has sealed shyness cellularly
Stay don’t run from the classroom fearfully
Fix sour newness until it’s commonplace
Endless book reports don't close quietly
See newness as novel, not my disgrace
All moments are fresh as a school dance
Keep showing up with perfect attendance
Hello, my dearest friends.
Did you see what I saw? Did you hear what I heard? Did you feel what I felt? Why, of course, you did.
I do not recall that I've tasted a better slice of roast beef. It was absolutely succulent and fit for kings and queens.
They came one by one, night after night, for five nights. They were applauded, respected, and loved-on just as The Master would have it done. On these five nights, they were fed, clothed, and housed. They had eye care services, haircuts, and manicures.
There's just so much to be said about the whole Winter Sanctuary affair. There was one gentleman 69 years of age who walked bent over with a cane. He spoke to me about how the years of homelessness have beaten and broken his body down. I have seen him every year since the inception of Winter Sanctuary at our church, but happily, I suspect we will not see him again next year because he will probably be among those who received housing assistance through Volunteers of America.
And please allow me to speak of the Sunday morning Baptismal Service which as I recall, consisted of a dozen of our homeless guess who were baptized. Warm and gracious words were spoken by most of them. For example, I was deeply moved when one gentleman said, "I have never been more welcomed in all of my life".
I tell you dear ones, it was such a blessed privilege for us to be chosen by the Lord to be His Hands Extended, reaching out with love.
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