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james-g-paul-sr-aka-pabloPoems
Monday morning commuters Wrapped in layers Of wool and polyester From China, Spill off the train At Grand Central Like grains of rice From a busted bag, Rushing everywhere And nowhere... *Can you scan me through Sir?* She queried, a flicker Of hope in her weary eyes *I'm trying to get to The homeless shelter.* Was it a lie Or a ruse? Was this brown-skinned woman With a mole on her cheek And a flicker of hope In her weary eyes, An artist? Wary eyes trained to detect The giver within And among a bustling throng Work-bound, Bearing finite degrees of discretion In their wallets and purses... Her pleading brush chose me today As I ran up the stairs Strides fueled by Maze... Spirit stirred by Saint Nick... I succumb, Granting her wish At the turnstile... As a few men in blue Huddled nearby Cradling morning brews From Dunkin... ~ P (#asfrh) (11/25/2013)
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 8:49 AM UTC
Another Scene from Rush Hour
Monday morning commuters Wrapped in layers Of wool and polyester From China, Spill off the train At Grand Central Like grains of rice From a busted bag, Rushing everywhere And nowhere... *Can you scan me through Sir?* She queried, a flicker Of hope in her weary eyes *I'm trying to get to The homeless shelter.* Was it a lie Or a ruse? Was this brown-skinned woman With a mole on her cheek And a flicker of hope In her weary eyes, An artist? Wary eyes trained to detect The giver within And among a bustling throng Work-bound, Bearing finite degrees of discretion In their wallets and purses... Her pleading brush chose me today As I ran up the stairs Strides fueled by Maze... Spirit stirred by Saint Nick... I succumb, Granting her wish At the turnstile... As a few men in blue Huddled nearby Cradling morning brews From Dunkin... ~ P (#asfrh) (11/25/2013)
james-g-paul-sr-aka-pablo
Written by
james-g-paul-sr-aka-pablo
Guyanese
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 8:49 AM UTC
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