A pauper begs at the town gate
and sets, each day, a date with fate.
He harbours dreams where riches flow
but morning finds him on skid row.
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Killing With an Epigram Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Placed 2nd
28th April, 2022
i wonder if there'll come a time
when i forget how to rhyme
when the pen in my hand
no longer writes
when the ideas that i have
are no longer fresh
when the thoughts that are tossed
i no longer catch
when all that remains
is the blank of the page
and the drive i once had
is long in the grave
with the flow running low
as far as poetry goes
leaving the rhymes behind
like a bum on skid row
when all that is left
is the hunger once had
replaced by a hole
that no longer beats in the chest
what would i do
if all this comes true
and have you also thought
that it could happen to you...
Night time creeps up fog like and
Bare with street lights bending
Shapes into focus.
Zombies march to an unheard
Song that have no words or reason.
A march that must be made.
Rows of rows of darkened caves hold within
Secrets and mysteries of forgotten lives
Whose purpose on this plain was lost
Long ago and with a whisper it died....
An with a whisper mourned.
Flashes of light streak through the
Walk giving pleasure to some and
Pain to others whose leather covered
Bones ached for release from needle
Pricks and crack....and soiled pants.
There is no time, there is no earth for
These citizens of the dark and ghosts
By day who reach out with gnarled hands
To caress a death that may never come
Leaving them hard and brittle.
One for all and all for one, they herd
Together under a starless night
Awaiting the day when perspectives
May change with the dirty light and
Mission dreams.
*I spent homeless and street time in LA and San Diego starting in 2008. This poem reflects my time on skid row near the Mission.
Tom Thumb got caught peeping
Now his life is on the run
Little Bo Peep lost her sheep
On a gambling junket she was on
Little Miss Muffet is having to tuff it
Out these days in jail
Selling ecstasy to undercover police
And now can't pay her bail
Little Jack Horner took him a corner
Of the Mafia drug trade
Once you are hooked on the Meth that he cooks
There's no way of escape
You think that's bad you ain't seen nothing yet
That even comes this close
Since Mother Goose started hitting the juice
And ended up down on skid row
Humpty Dumpty's more than broke
But not from any fall
He couldn't pay his bookie
And his legs were first to go
Baa Baa Black Sheep
Where forced to sell their wool
To pay for all the damages
While they were in school
Jack pushed Jill down the hill
When he caught her cheating with Little Boy Blue
Now he's paying her doctor bills
Which has left Jack blue too
You think that's bad you ain't seen nothing yet
That even comes this close
Since Mother Goose started hitting the juice
And ended up down on skid row
Drinking water all night,
jerking off on the Sabbath,
and feeling the night making me feel alive,
Sabrine she left me a year ago-
a lie or two broke me apart;
giving too much of love,
giving her my heart and knowing that she'd lose it,
and I sit in the dark room
with one window open,
listening to the people next door making love,
and the bed frame slamming against the wall,
thinking "Holy Moly brother, give her a break, she'll break on you!"
but then remembering my next door neighbors were lesbians.
Then I remember Sabrine again,
letting lose with other men,
while she still is trying to get into college,
she was a good girl and a nice friend,
one you wish you could ask for,
wanting to make love with her,
but she is with another guy-
living in California,
but sometimes I think she turned lesbian
and is swinging with other women on Skid Row,
feeling up each other's shirts and skirts- it makes me hard-
see I still think of her, but now in a different light.
.2.23.2014.
Watch it Buddy,
don't even think about it;
you see me, and I know you know it.
Don't fool with her,
she is mine,
and I'm hers'.
You mess with her,
and you'll see a big man get mean.
Now you just tuck your tail between your chicken legs,
and take yourself back on down the road;
watch it now buddy, don't even look back,
but-but-nothing!- Get outa here and don't come back.
You see she's with me,
and I'm with her.
If you mess with my Earth Angel,
you're going to see a big man get mean!
Take a hike,
a long walk of a short pier,
go hunting for treasure down on skid Row,
but don't think about touching my baby.
Watch it Buddy,
or the next time you come around,
you're going to be cross-eyed.
Have a good-day.
2.7.2014.
He sits and wonders why he's here
As his tears flow into his beer
Deep inside where the pain is kept
His whole life he has felt so lost
Wrong decisions horrible cost
Hurt remains even though he's wept
Soon the beer is gone time to go
He is now living on Skid Row
A phantom walking on the street
Trying to gather quarters and dimes
Perhaps this time pleasures of wine
Depending on people he meets
Pattern repeated every day
So sad but still living this way
No more dreaming of an escape
He thinks the bottle is his friend
Even if not he will pretend
He drinks so pain will lose it's shape
No one see's the invisible man
We fail to do the best that we can
We leave him to suffer on the street
We think we're doing good when we just pray
Nothing gets done by thinking this way
Still we walk by and stare at our feet
About half way through this next poem I had a slight break with reality and decided to go straight for the humor! Hope you enjoy it.
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When she was a child of dreams
She knew for certain stars could fly
And high above the billowed clouds
Is where she knew the angels lie
When she was a child of light
She saw the world in different views
In colors filled with golden dawns
And everything she saw was new
When she was a child of life
She put behind her childhood dreams
After that
Everything went to hell
She lost her job
Got shot
Was arrested for public lewdness
And ended up in debtors prison
Spent 16 months on skid row
Found religion
And three years later elected president
What’s his name? What’s his name?
I don’t know, I don’t know
Let me go, let me go
What’s his name?
Who Jim Crow, Joe Blow or John Doe,
Why do you ask me so, I don’t know?
Why do you hold me in this beau?
Even so, why you ask me something I don’t know?
Whoa holy Joe, I don’t know, no James Monroe.
Furthermo, I didn’t know he was in a picture show
With Little Joe and Little Big Toe!
Even so I didn’t know he was a tennis pro
Now on skid row and his wife working a strip show
I didn’t know!
So you gonna let me go?
Whoa, why you hit me in the stomach below
And caused my knees to hit the floor
Watch it bro, don’t hit me no mo
If you hit me again below, here’s how its gonna go
Like quid pro quo I’m lay low and sneak up on you like a
UFO stopping your show with a glide of an unexpected blow
Across the thing that help you go!
Then I’ll take an arrow and shoot you in every toe,
Just like a woman during her menstrual flow
You’re not gonna know what hit you bro
It will be like a hammer blow from your
Head to your toe
And this is what will happen if you don’t let me go!
Hello
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Through the night
lying beside him,
watching him sleep.
Suddenly aware-
my breaths match his.
Who is this man-
I don't know.
Not the man I fell
in love with years ago.
But who am I now?
no great beauty to bestow
nor the girl once
on skid row.
Yet how much better
is my life?
Serving my master
under his spell,
where do I stand-
not far from hell.
Longing to get away
yet terrified.
I'd never make it on my own.
So here I stay
Through the night-
lying beside him,
watching him sleep;
alone.
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