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Steve Page Feb 2022
The wind is foul.
The rain dribbles down my neck as I queue and stare uncertainly at the Uber Eats backpack in front of me, wondering who might have ordered foodbank takeout or how the Uber guy had come to need a handout and what he might feel about delivering Friday night treats while wondering what he'll eat tomorrow.
The wind is foul.
Observation outside St Mellitus', West London
The doorbell rang sharply
I threw off my blanket by the door
I answered to two high school kids
"Could you donate to the poor?"
"We're taking cans, and money"
" clothing, gloves and jackets too"
"Is it in your heart to help us"
"can we get something from you?"
I said "Come back tomorrow"
"I'm a little short you see"
"I'll be home from work directly"
"You can come here after three"
They smiled, "see you later"
said the tall one with the hat
"We'll be back again tomorrow"
And I thought, that was that
I closed the door behind them
Went back and I sat down
I was reading by the fireside
Wrapped in an old dressing gown
The heat was off in most rooms
The house was small, and drafty too
I had to heat it with the fire
Or lose my heat all up the flue
I had no cash for cable
A computer? not a chance
I could barely pay the mortgage
I was in bad circumstance
The job I'd had forever
At least since I left school
Was gone now, plant was shuttered
They closed the old Majestic Tool
Three hundred sixty workers
Most had been there all their life
As had been their fathers
It's where I met my wife
She left me when they closed up
Got an offer to head west
I told her take the offer
I told her "I think it's for the best"
She hasn't called in eighteen months
I got the papers for divorce
I figured, I can't afford to call her
So, it's just par for the course
I trip around the town by day
Getting meals where they are free
In a town as poor as we are
It's not a real strange sight to see
There is no work around here
I'll have to move within a year
If things don't soon get better
I'll try to stay real close to here
The morning after last night
You know, the one I spoke about
Where the kids came out collecting
And I pretended I was out
of food and cash and clothing
didn't have a dime to spare
I would have loved to help a little
But I didn't really dare
A can of food would last two days
Spaghetti, maybe three
Although I  wanted to contribute
I need these things for me
I went into the foodbank
The morning after the night before
I would get my Christmas hamper
Along with others, walking poor
I'd take it home, unpack it
And when the kids came by at three
I would give them, at least something
My word meant a lot to me
I didn't have a lot of things
Not much was left at all
But, my word, was worth a fortune
I'd be there when they called
In the back, out of my vision
While I signed and took my box
Was one of the two students
Sorting through some coats and socks
I took off with my treasure
Set to donate when they came
I was robbing Peter to pay Paul
It was such a silly game
The boy went to the counter
He checked my address in the book
He then went to see the head man
He wanted him to take a look
He told him of their visit
How he recognized my face
He realized how much it hurt me
To be reliant on this place
They talked about my visit
And they saw my need was real
And they talked amongst the others
with elvish, Christmas zeal
I was waiting for the doorbell
Had two cans, and a small coat
When the doobell rang, I answered
There was four boxes and a note
Vacant space, they must have run
They had to be close by
What I saw there boxed before me
Well, it made this grown man cry
Instead of coming for donations
They knew how hard it was for me
They had brought along some blankets
And lots of food, for free
I picked the note up gingerly
I was still shaking from the tears
It said "Merry Christmas Mr. Watson"
"and Have a Happy, Safe New Year".
Simon Piesse  Aug 2022
Foodbank
Simon Piesse Aug 2022
What's your code no passport connection four hundred years grandfather's father his father coming there first test DNA dry place immigrant country no code no almond milk and honey wet wipes gone eyes longing God in each of us what's your code which God fountain of mercy chopped tomatoes snug crates E5 what's your code he shot me in the head and legs smug nearly forgot thank you for calling the job centre your call is important stranger rich tea smooth no nuts unboxed leeks centre job wait what's your code hot sand busy thank you what's your code blue masks requirement professor of linguistics sir do you have Weetabix I Lithuania bless you Kuwait Syria Michigan Holloway Italy chef many interviews knives the knives needed all are welcome double yellow lines peas code your what's your necessary referral code appointment hurry sorry reindeer biscuit then joking we used to climb over and pick the blackberries no desk write the date and time sign what's your code Ukraine just wait for delivery..
Bailey  Jun 2016
Six and Four
Bailey Jun 2016
I was taught to add and subtract at the age of four. My twenty year old mother would sit me down on the grass while waiting for my aunt to get out of high school, and teach me my numbers on her big, scarred hands. I was five when I realized something that would change me for the rest of my life. The number six and the number four are both just one away from being a solid five.
At six years old, my classmate and I were given our daily snacks. My friend had gotten six crackers, while I got four. I asked, “may I have a *******?” She reminded me that I had already gotten my napkin-full of crackers. “But if you give me one, we will both have five.” She bugged her eyes at me.
“I wanna have more,” she said. I shook my head at her, and ate my four crackers.
I wanted to participate in my elementary school’s food drive when I was ten years old, and in fifth grade. I was motivated to make a change for families in need of canned food. When I went home and asked my mom for cans, she explained to me that the cans that my schoolmates were donating would probably end up in our pantry, because we get our food from the local foodbank. I looked up at our pantry. I saw some dusty cans in the back that hadn’t been touched, and multiple cans next to them. I then remembered when we didn’t have even one can, and thought of the families who didn’t have even one can right then. And then I thought: But we have six, and they have four...
A homeless man and I both had five the day I bought him a sandwich when I was fourteen.
My best friend had four when she was sexually abused, and I gave up one when I shoved past the school security guards and got her to the hospital at the age of fifteen.
The year I turned sixteen I figured I had six when I realized there was an unfairness at my school. I gave my fellow students one when I convinced the principal to make a change about it, after being sent to him for disturbing the class with my speech.
I gave up one of my six when I turned seventeen and wrote the inspiring story of my brother’s car crash, for all of the people with four in their broken hearts.
As long as I have six, I will continue to give one. I won’t stop until everyone has five, and the world is one big ten.
Hunger and roses

I have not spoken of Brexit find it trivial
False pride and old people thinking of was time
When they said, saved the world single handily
The arrogance of superiority is unavoidable.

The pampas are full of horses on yellow/green grass
If I were a horse, I would miss the forest.

Rowes of people wait outside a foodbank often
Overtired nurses who can’t feed their families
Skeleton looking pensioners hope for corn flakes
The experimental economy benefits the rich.
aldo kraas Sep 2023
It is hard to get by
With little money
Because
You won't be able
To buy some food
Yes people
Because of the high cost of living
Food is very expensive
And thanks god that
There is foodbank
That we can go
And get some food
for us
So we are happy
That we won't starve
Today

— The End —