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The Invisible Canopy

They lay upon the streets choking on their own. Mounds of people desolate in their being.

Wait.
And breathe in again.
Kicked in the gut; split like lumber. This is a home. Animals have a home.

Wait.
And breathe in again.
Boxes propped up in the rain. Empty cans rot. Feeding is done. Could they have hunger? Is it ours that they’re hungry?

Wait.
And breathe in again.
Displaced assassination. Soul tainted by remark. Hold. The starving soul echoes back and lives in our queried gaze. Is this anyone’s “life”?

Wait.
And breathe in again.
Shoes leaking dirt on new snow. Fingers hold paper canopy encasing country’s dishonor. This is not a life, is it? I think it is best to live.

Wait.
And breathe in again.
Perhaps the hand will move. Will hope spring? Will death take notice of this? Will the good in man change them? Will our naked shame bow softly? Will we course this toward nurturing? Will the hope of man succumb to hunger? Will the pride of man not rip itself from within? Might it begin? Has it now?

Wait.
And breathe in again.
Men, women, and children; living ghosts, alleyways of mankind infested with distrust, cursing the self bending through our streets of our cities and towns to our own expense. We needn’t turn away in shame, or fear of this; fingernails caked in dirt, soiled clothes and hair. Run from it and it rests with you. Mock it and it returns within you. Spit upon it and you stir death. Attempt to remedy; hope, love, salvation, and you turn its hastening back.

Wait.
And breathe in again.
We know these stooped forms are among us. We know the hand extended is not in greed. We know we needn’t fear its power, unless we are soulless and more in need of seeking. Hope shall soar. Death will perceive. The good of man shall foster change. These bones and faces are found in every man. These hopes and despair frequent the soul’s café, drinking in the fullness of grace.

Wait.
And breathe in again.
We must believe in the true nature. We must hope for the caressing of our beings, beckoning man’s better self, his courage, that it might rise up, swell within to champion, take hold our slipped fingers in desire of betterment, prayers of expectant selfless endeavors, freedom to ring not hollow, but thunderous in the flattered ears of politicians! Booming through the streets of home, piercing and raucous about this world, man summoning to man on these cold streets! As we meander nearer the darkness, nearer the end, many will have gleaned over before we know our echo's come `round again. Man cannot wait, not upon the streets of new snow, breathe in again.


Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman


Enigma4ever - WatergateSummer.blogspot

National Coalition of the Homeless
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Comments

  1. rebeleyeballMarch 25, 2006 at 12:58 AM

    Wow. You blow me away.

    ReplyDelete
  2. thepoetrymanMarch 25, 2006 at 1:00 AM

    I do it with the best of intentions...

    Thank you, rebeleyeball.

    ReplyDelete
  3. GMarch 25, 2006 at 4:34 AM

    beautiful pictures and words

    ReplyDelete
  4. oldwhiteladyMarch 25, 2006 at 5:11 AM

    That one reminded me of the story on NPR about hospitals sending their homeless patients to Skid Row. Caught on tape was a taxi dropping off an old lady wearing her hospital gown and socks on her feet. They followed up on the story and found out where she had been discharged from (the old lady had didn't know, and had nothing on her person that specified which particular health provider). The thought was that the reason she was taken there, was that there are a lot of shelters in the area.

    ReplyDelete
  5. enigma4everMarch 25, 2006 at 7:21 AM

    really really beautiful...you captured all of it....thank you...

    ReplyDelete
  6. thepoetrymanMarch 25, 2006 at 12:47 PM

    graem,
    Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  7. thepoetrymanMarch 25, 2006 at 12:48 PM

    oldwhitelady,
    Yes. It covers the gamut of the forgotten, the invisible canopy of our forgotten. Thank you for visiting!

    ReplyDelete
  8. thepoetrymanMarch 25, 2006 at 12:49 PM

    enigma4,
    You inspired it with your post. I'm thanking you for your words.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Rory ShockMarch 25, 2006 at 1:21 PM

    powerful ... nice riffing with enigma ... hers was beautiful too ... so much truth in what you guys have written here ... beautiful words wake the soul to painful things ... and spread compassion ... rock on pm

    ReplyDelete
  10. thepoetrymanMarch 25, 2006 at 1:32 PM

    rory,
    Many thanks, sir. You and I and enigma4 and millions around the world are and shall continue to join in voice our triumph of the spirit until we drown the cries of "Avenge!" and we retrieve the people drowning under the hubris of the Bush regime...

    ReplyDelete
  11. PTCruiserMarch 25, 2006 at 5:26 PM

    "Wow" is about the best I can come up with. I wish I had a more eloquent way to describe what I feel after having read that. Thank you for sharing your wonderful gift with all of us.

    ReplyDelete
  12. thepoetrymanMarch 25, 2006 at 6:05 PM

    pt,
    my pleasure, sir...

    ReplyDelete
  13. mirthMarch 25, 2006 at 9:54 PM

    Eloquent, beautiful, I think this is my favorite from you.
    We need more expressions that evoke compassion and courage if we are to rise to our better selves. And hope. We need hope.
    A wonderful gift, tpm. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  14. mirthMarch 25, 2006 at 10:07 PM

    I meant to add....
    One of the poem's images I most liked is Shoes leaking dirt on new snow. That caused tears to sting my eyes.

    ReplyDelete
  15. thepoetrymanMarch 25, 2006 at 11:55 PM

    mirth,
    Thank you. I am glad it touched you.

    ReplyDelete

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