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Maria Mitea Dec 2021
i will see you, my love
i will see you in a windless country, in a thoughtless world,
with swords, we”ll cut off all roads in the air, from the earth
with our eyes, we”ll dress them up  in feathers of rio abre-alas,
open wings
one day soon, in the valley on the farm
seduced by the dry edge of the grass
crushed under the earth furrow we”ll forget about ourselves,
we”ll fall like a snow belt in the winter, slow, slow,
lazy to get lost in goosebumps, yellow,
create and raw, soon
the sun will call us to a world where love is truly blind
and deaf,
and mute,
and putrefied like an old woman,
older than stone,  birds, air
red angels, maybe one day soon
our love will be easy,
so eeeeeeeasy
as easy as blue cheese mold on the tongue,
like a blues that is digging our thirst at night
like a lip gloss broken with a pointed nose,
warm, soft *******, sweet steam resting on the needles of time
caressed by two strands asleep in the stillness of white *******,
milk carved in palm lines,
hungry orphans,
beggars built in the breath of your chest, we will die
we will die, one day soon
and, you”ll come again with your forehead up, your swaying walk,
oh, your swaying walk, no eyes, no air
it will be easy to bite your lips
touch your hard beard
in a distant world where there are no storms
no thoughts
one day soon, one day
Mark Wanless Aug 2021
two beggars on street
asking for dollars and change
tapping on cell phones
actually saw this one
Ayesha Jan 2021
Practiced pain and misery memorised
A shawl swirling round but nothing is covered
—nothing safe
Little woman—

Why do you roam so free on these greasy roads
people are everywhere, don’t you see?
Do you not know how easy a shell is broken
—how swiftly the pearl is stollen
Little woman— little woman
Where do you hide your crystal wings—
Did you sell them for some loaves of breads?
Don’t assure.

Your eyes bear no tragic fruit and
I wish they did— Lord, how I wish so!
Anything but this casualty
Have they long forgotten
the sky-high castles they were robbed from?
All those moon-struck crowns—
Don’t, don’t assure!

Don’t spread out that hand
Don’t show me that tight stomach
I beg you don’t show them that
stomach—waiting to be filled—
Where in the hell do you sleep?
Don’t you have a door to lock?
Don’t assure—

You priceless, prince-less little woman
Why do you roam so free on these greasy roads
Why do you beg? Why do you—
I wonder why I ask— I with my flowers and bees
wonder what I even know—
I can’t bring myself to write well these days. I don’t what’s up with me.
Carl Fynn Jun 2020
Shrewd enough to pick a purse
To feed a mouth sheltered under a rain of curse.

Empty bottles and opponent as partners
The fruit of a faint love
Now mine to pick.

Sleep and wake to the sour taste of poverty
Cure in the heart of men that walk the street

Too good to smile at the tartered shirt
Too quick to point our direction

Too heavy a baggage to carry
Too light the burden I offload

Ran back to my sheltered nest
Broken bottles and a red eyed woman
From whence I came
To this world of pain

Opponents as partners
The tattered shelter nature spared us

A smile on the little ones
My motivation to attract a pointing finger

My tatttered shelter - Opponents as partners.
There is pain on the street... a smile can save a soul
Emmiasky Ojex Jul 2018
We’re hungry
But we lacking

We can’t even dare ask
Cos for us all, eating food is really an heinous task

Their moving out in their cars
While we, in here we are, hiding in our infectious scars

I wanna go out of here to there
But what about these ones I’ve got as friends

It’s really irking
But can I be in such a hurry?

If I have the brain to leave!
How will my younger ones live?

If I have the power to go and beg!
What about those in here, living without legs?

But then, we’re hungry
And we’ve got no one sending us daily meals

Seems I just have to make a run for it
And beg a few things for human being to eat

We all don’t have a choice but to live our time this way
For we are children of those who didn’t make good use of their young days.

©Emmiasky Ojex
Please reach out to those who need help and have nothing, will you?
Mansi Mar 2018
Have you seen
those souls
enveloped in grief,
enclosed in shells
of humans
just as poor?
Sitting by the road
for alms -
more than that
for compassion
and love.
When they spread
their feeble hands
in front of you,
just look
their eyes.
You will see
all the pain
the neglect
and torture
that they have been going through.
Your heart will melt
with pity.
Even in extremities,
they come up to us
asking for
to continue
their struggle
in those hard times.
They hope that
the one they approach
will hear their soul's cry
and be kind enough
to give them a reason to smile.
We we act indifferent
or turn them down
they just shatter inside
oh! these souls
so disturbed
and traumatized -
but knowing
the harsh world around,
they gather
whatever hope is left in them
and begin
their search again
for a generous soul.
India has over 400,000 beggars. Moved their plight and suffering, I wrote this poem.
Star BG Nov 2017
Beggars, I am
asking for clarity
inside our life journeys
from spirits guidance.

Mendicant I am
toward Source taking steps
to feel my inner self.
To release tattered veil of forgetting
so I know who I am.

Beggars, I am toward Sprits guiding voice
trying to grab hold of innocence
to ride waves of love
inside grace.

Beggars, yes Beggars
we all are divine and sacred,
possessing magical sparks within.

And once aligned in heart,
highway opens with no roadblocks.
Just endless possibilities to roam free
in world of grand realities.
Inspired by Lazhar Bouazzi
toots Aug 2016
I want to be in a world, where
Even beggars have their beds, and
All the things in the world are sweet,
And fair.
And don't land , until I'm there.
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