vagrancy forms the pupil
loitering firms a study a passenger of the seasonal influence believe in the homeless the pigeons and the litter lovingly observe the unhandled gaps in our gathered mouthings believe in big babies believe in display the posters walls malls the money bleed that we are sincere to and the signals that thread us to one single box invited and isolated housed unhoused on vacation and vacated inattentive pupils
Standing on one foot
in the rain Who is to blame Holding out a hand for a dole or..... for another hand to hold to help go People just passing by Looking away To avoid eye to meet eye Who’s to blame? We hide in shame. Shell ✨🐚
People look away most of the time if they see someone in need on the street!
I guess they don’t feel comfortable being confronted with it.
A lost hungry vagrant
on a train to nowhere everywhere's his home IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII🚂IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII on a patch of hay in the heat of day he doesn't bother to get on his knees and pray IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII🚂IIIIIIIII everything he wants is in his sweat and blood the shirt on his back and his matter of fact IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII🚂IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII no one can touch his solitary freedom even when burdened with chains and in heavy rains IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII🚂IIIIIIIIIIIIII he flies through time known by himself on a patch of hay III🚂IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII in an empty, lonely cart on a train to nowhere wandering the face of the earth IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII🚂IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII yearning for Starlight💫
I always feel like a compass spinning
Directionless, I can hardly see The paths I could take To the places I need to be But I trudge on, aimlessly
“My compass spins, the wilderness remains” - Bright Eyes
Wandering this lonely terrain
Trying to escape the nightmare I live I yearn to fly away from pain The ghostly love you give Trust has become a scarcity In our darkest hour Someone wise once told me Solitude will grant you power I have no one, no belongings, no home Reduced to a vagrant without your embrace Feet and emotions fated to roam Until they find their purpose and place
I feel so directionless by myself
New York drowns in the California-made blue
The child of the voodoo kisses the sky Her indigo ligaments are laid bare While she falls, chasing smoking rabbits She is small yet she soars With her proportions falling on deaf heads She remembers the knights of the dawn Tangled in her gallivanting hair Without knowing her doors She noses her way through her window The modest parachute travels With the nomadic East She recognizes heaven by taste Knowing that she believes less and less Seeing all without need for the travel Ignoring the scrutiny of a gavel Leaving in the morning Not stopping until the fifth night Learning for forty fortnights Stopping to rest every second year What a bright-eyed soul! A sparkling visage Adorning all her wanders The world is at her command
I would rather
be a wanderer a belongerer to no body to no country a loose end than to bob eagerly at every tug of the yarn's end whose wound-up mass amasses me a wriggled up ball of wriggles I would rather be alone than scooped up in a basket with others of my supposed ilk and held in by the over-under wicker edges domed up for containment ominous clicks and scrapes of my destiny clattering and chattering above fraying frizzled frazzled bits smoothing out as my length is tugged up and up like a long slurpy noodle I would rather be loose and scrappy and stumpy and ragged the one that nobody loves the discarded refuse of a more discerning eye than be made surreptitiously into somebody else's jumper © 2017 Adelaide Heathfield
Sometimes it's better to be alone than to be in bad company. Sometimes it's better to be independent than to be dependent on the wrong thing.
A little girl with hopes and dreams
An artistic mother whose smile beams A burly father who protects the team Family is as it seems A little girl that is confused A fighting mother who is always bruised A father that now grabs the ***** Family is far from smooth A young girl that can’t understand A tired mother who sits on her hands An angry father who only demands Family crumbles like sand A teenage girl with a broken heart A single mother falling apart A father lying asleep in a park Family is far from the start A teenage girl who sleeps around A mother buried in the ground A father who is chained and bound Family is not profound A young adult with pain on her mind A mother who is still resigned A father who was left behind Family is redefined
I hope my life doesn't hit stanza five....I'm quite worried about mt mom right now
A man in a tailored suit
A man eating rotten fruit One divorced three wives Two contrasting lives One is a lawyer The other a beggar I’m sure you think of the two of them, One is a hundred times better He’s in fine garments The other’s worn and tattered One’s dreams came true The other one’s shattered But none of that matters—why? How ‘bout you ask us, the maggot and the fly Because in the end —and we say this without shame A vagrant and a lawyer in death both taste the same
Death is the great equalizer.
The greyness will not go
From my mind, from the world A dome of haze surrounds this troubled town Dense, thick, ****** into the ground and out to the sky From my soul, from the world I'm not so far from sitting with the wild eyed vagrant Watching all hope walk away From my heart, from the world A cruel twist of fate this is- when it began Troubles came from a solution From my pocket, from the world Thanks to inefficiency, from the privileged I have no food coming From my hand, from the world Dreams of warmth and meagre luxuries Seem so distant, so impossible From my head, from the world If I can't survive this month on air I shall go from my home To the street, to the world.