melissaahowells
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they claim
how there's a magical solution to the problem called homelessness they lie and waste words like bad candy they have a warm bed so its all Jim-dandy unless you've never been there then why should you care? fancy words are free like the air then dissipate into nothingness after the election the Nextdoor Neighborhood chatterers are all in an uproar the houseless campers are much too close to their doors they believe... maybe the homeless would be more comfortable indoors in jail out of sight so much better than homeless people given license to be simply "Human" sometimes it takes great unrest inside to write like when I'm up during the dark of night and the words come in a storm full of rage then fill up my mind like an unwinding page... with volumes of volumes makes me wish I could get all of it quickly down when I expel vitriol I feel lighter still the words in my head go on and on and most days I find them waiting impatiently pacing in my head for me in the morning there's nothing wrong with anger sometimes it needs to leave its post run off with fists flying but this time I'm giving myself steel-toed boots in the form of righteous words I'm older now a bit more than fed up I see so many of my contemporaries though above ground, slowly dying some rot in the dumpt they've become the scum to be scrubbed away, blight and blemishes the target of city hall's and society's expedient erasure of its own troubling reflection here in Portland when it rains like it does it washes them down some nearly drown every time I'm downtown I nearly drown too in the swill of it seeing the Hell of it I see these lost ones struggling wholly visible so many of them deliberately ignored its a disgusting disgrace how they're literally stepped on and over lives without a face the old ones the poorest of the poor the rattled and mentally ill have been deliberately drop-kicked out-of-doors and into their landing place... which no one with any other choice would dwell its as if they never had a life or a place of their own the sidewalk from which they are banned from sitting or lying on their home downtown is transformed into one repetitive disturbing dystopic movie scene much like the one from Jesus Christ Superstar where the those who needed healing over-whelm God and He falters I see today how Kinder Ones do what they can while the walk through the throng sometimes becoming overwhelmed by the dire need for healing the asking, the begging, the appealing the over-abundance of... please, please, please would you help me? tents and tarps on the street sleeping on concrete when they can live in pretended houses that will never have doors while being continuously rousted by the man broken down and stinking exhausted lost-thinking hungry wretched and mostly, unforgivably alone while the tossed dwell on the sidewalks we, the others, ride by the train onwards toward warm homes the riders having no insight into their complicit ignorance obstinate indifference HOW they are deliberately not seeing distracting themselves with canned-music and little games on their cellphones I overheard a twenty-something telling her wide-eyed friends from another city just keep your head down and you'll be safer then.. keep your eyes on your phones but your awareness tuned in on your purses and wallets they're a nuisance, alright but all big cities like this have got 'em don't look at "THEM...." the poor the homeless the mentally ill the doomed they're a problem be unmoved its their problem. legal copyright for this poem/work/rant 6/8/2018 *:49AM time/date stamped and legally copyrighted and also for this writer Melissa A Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title: Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World re-edited for strength of metaphor and clarity 10:40AM June 12, 2018/legal copyright for this poem/work/rant and also for this writer Melissa A. Howells and also for this LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem |
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