A poem for a homeless man…
He looked up at me and I looked down at him
reading his mind and watching him weep afraid
that I would cause him harm
He asked if I would lower myself to his status
in life or just stay hovering over his soul like a
seagull circling for the morning krill.
I saw his pain and knelt before him
bringing my eyes to his level while his soul was
revealed through the deepest blue eyes that
only gods were given in ancient of days.
I sat beside him on the dirty curb of the road
loosened my tie sharing some pain from my past
and present life and how I fell off the wagon bruising
my shins and ego by getting back up again.
He shared with me his saddest secrets
while scars so deep pulsated from the veins
that now were darkened red from needle ends
he called his friends and pulled a butt
from his pocket with nicotine
burnt gnarled finger tips.
We dreamed together unwrapping
a chocolate bar I pulled from my
suit jacket pocket broke it in half to
give him the bigger of the two pieces
watching him grin while thanking me for
sharing sweets so he could put his
bitter pills away for just a spell.
Amazing man he was at one time professor
of words at a renowned University
until his world crumbled before him
with the loss of his family
an auto accident had claimed.
He slowly hid away the crumpled
photo of his wife and children with
a shaking hand and wiped the tear
that lingered there awhile frozen
like his past of happier days.
He went mad while his world fell apart
and the demons threw him in the
guttered fumes of chemicals
and alcohol that rubbed and smeared
his ever again wish to live among the living.
I felt a strong kindred to this man of worth
no matter that his posture was bent and
out of sync with reality nor that he was
rough edged and callous and smelled
of stale everything and scratched
the lice that crawled his skin.
He was a man a sad man a man
I shared my time and courage with
and felt a kindred with his soul of
understanding and empathy not sympathy
we met each other on a level of humanity.
Equal and naked souls no different
yet blessed to be alive thankful for our lot
in life no matter the calling,
for at this moment in time a light shone
in our harbour while the mist was lifted
to let both our ships pass together in peace.
I shook his hand gave him a hug and
took a minute to pray together for peace
on earth the end of wars and famine while
we placed our differences in the
garbage lying around us.
We wept and wished each other well
and left without any regrets of having met
in the gutter of life on the mean streets
of concrete jungle while shadows past us by
with disgust and bitter tongues of stereotyping fools.
Mike and I met with the hope that we were knocking
on heaven’s door.
© Copyright 2011 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved