To Live On These Streets
To live on these streets
You have to mask your intentions,
Avoid the drugs that bring despair and defeat,
Not judge anyone drifting
Into bad luck and loneliness.
The streetlights and neon signs
Have a pensive glow
But the homeless saints
With random smiles
Preserve the slightest hope.
I’ve seen the children
In paint-peeling houses
Show kindness to everyone they meet.
I’ve had people die at my feet
Just hours before the dawn
In my beloved Detroit,
But I knew God was watching
In the dark starless sky
Trying to keep us all alive.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Silent Witness
The neon haze of city lights
The tribal sound of marching feet
Cuts through the gloom on cold dark nights
The tired and homeless roam the streets
The sirens wail the engines roar
A shadowed man just glances around
A victim of life's mindless toil
Lies cold and helpless on the ground
The window dummies silent stare
Bear witness on the nights
If they could move
What it would proved
To see them all take flight
The neon haze of city lights
The tribal sound of marching feet
Cuts through the gloom on cold dark nights
The tired and homeless roam the streets
The walls shout loud with angry words
The people air their views
The poor can scream but no-one hears
The concrete jungle sings the blues
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Dreams
the city sleeps
beneath my feet
the glow of streetlights, cars, and store signs
keep me warm tonight
its cold here in the skys
angel wings graze my skin
and the clouds collect my tears
the only way
I can find peace in this place
Is six feet below
The city streets
Or way above where the city
Sleeps
poem by Lauren Miller
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Inner Voices
traveling backward in dark to meet
my father I held the hands of my grandchild
in broken dawn of random spring to collect
the lost years of old house where we could not
meet and he sat feet resting on the thighs
in the valley of unwritten letters and thin
silence, you left before I knew my thumb
had your skin, climbed to despair I untied
the knot and had a fatal, pure wound, which
like a lantern still burns in the eyes of
my offsprings unabated, the seeds and salt
and bloodstained umbrella will cover the street
poem by Satish Verma
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Live Life on Hope
Strange is our life to live
No idea where it leads
But still live on hope
Where is it going to take?
Meet new people in life
May be just for once
But still live on hope
Will we meet them again?
We make new plans for life
No idea how to manage
But still live on hope
When is it going to attain?
Great effort we make family
Bring up kids to best
But still live on hope
What would be the result?
Children fly when big and built
Again we remain alone
But still live on hope
When will they be back?
All of us live on hope
And it should never end
Until we leave this earth
Always hope for the best...
poem by Sreekala Sukumaran
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Meet My Despair
Meet my despair,
She doesn't even show signs of care.
She knows she'll be my destruction,
That's the meaning behind her construction.
Meet my despair,
You can taste the foul death in the air.
She smirks at the cause of my untimly death,
It makes her lose her frigid breath.
Meet my despair,
She's my burden to bear.
She'll dance on my grave,
Ah, she's so brave.
Meet my despair,
her name's.357 magnum.
She's truly lovely.
She's truly mine,
My despair.
poem by Steven Elsner
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Don't Cry, Child
Don't cry, child
For children starving far away
For homeless people on the streets
Begging for change.
Don't cry, child
For those of us who have no dreams
Who live in dark holes
That we dig ourselves, laboriously - why?
Don't cry, child
For forgotten rainbows
Or melancholy rainstorms
For wispy clouds, always drifting away.
Don't cry, child
For who you are not
Or who you have been
For who you are.
Don't cry, child
For the last animal of it's kind
The mother who cannot feed her children
A planet in need.
Don't cry, child
When you stand on the edge of forever
And wish you could fly
And see the world at your fingertips.
Don't cry, child
For long-gone yesterdays
Or yearned-for tomorrows
Don't cry, child
For what you have done today
Forgive
Start a new day
Make it better than the last.
poem by Nina Dringo
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Living With Yourself
How do you live with yourself
When you are walking down the street
How do you live with yourself
When you tell lies to the people that you meet.
Don't you know that's it's not loyalty
When you go from one man to another
Don't you think that it's also disrespectful
When you tell others that you are a good mother.
You have cheated on all of your husbands
And also your boyfriends when you begged for help
Honestly how can you believe you done nothing wrong
Tell me again, how can you live with yourself.
Don't you know that it is a mortal sin
To live a life the way that you do
Telling your children that you done no wrong
Do you really want them to respect or be like you.
You live as a user and an adulterous
While others say you live a life as a tramp and a whore
And you have your children watching you sin
How can you live with yourself any more.
Are you happy with the deeds you have done
Even with the ones you have done many times before
Are you not tired of lying and making up stories
Dont you understand why with people you they ignore.
You still put on your act with people that you meet
You will not tell them the truth about yourself
If they knew too the evil and sin you commited
They would also tell you that you are going to hell.
So close your conscience and live your lie
And act like you care for others and them you want to help
But all you care is for yourself and only you
And ask GOD please, how can you live with yourself.
poem by Randy McClave
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Yesterday Went Too Soon
Sitting in today, watching traffic buzzing by, and faces closing in
A victim of regret, it glitters and it fades away, like silver turning grey
Washed it all away, waiting for this dream to end, before it sucks me in
Im climbing high, up above the streets and rows of neon lights
Im holding out my hand but Im alone
Wish I could show you
Wish you could see through my eyes
Tomorrow shines through
But Im missing yesterday
Crashing on the ground, the silence seems to suffocate, and bury me again
Waiting for a taste, of happiness to lift me free, and carry me away
Im climbing high, up above the streets and rows of neon lights
I know its just a dream but Im alive
Wish I could show you
Wish you could see through my eyes
Tomorrow shines through
But Im missing yesterday
Im still missing yesterday
Ill wait, Ill wait for you tonight.
Lost another week, feeling like a leper in, a world of vanity
Its killing me today, addiction pulls you down, you know
And shes the drug I need
Im climbing high, up above the streets and rows of neon lights
Im holding out my hand but Im alone
Wish I could show you
Wish you could see through my eyes
Tomorrow shines through
But Im missing yesterdayIm climbing high, up above the streets and rows of neon lightsIm holding out my hand but Im alone
Wish I could show you
Wish you could see through my eyes
Tomorrow shines through
But Im missing yesterday.
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Think Its Gonna Rain Today
(randy newman)
Broken windows
In empty hallways
Pale dead moon
And the sky streaked with grey
Human kindness overflowing
And I think its gonna rain today
Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles
With frozen smiles to keep love away
Human kindness overflowing
And I think its gonna rain today
Lonely, lonely
Tin can at my feet
I think Ill kick it down the street
Thats the way to treat a friend
Right before me
The signs implore me
Help the needy
And show them the way
Human kindness, its overflowing
And I think its gonna rain today
Lonely, so lonely
Tin can at my feet
I think Ill kick it down the street
Thats the way to treat a friend
Right before me
The signs implore me
Help the needy
And show them the way
Human kindness, its overflowing
And I think its gonna rain today
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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merry Christmas
“Merry Christmas”
Another Christmas is upon us, all the four channels, where I live,
show Hollywood movies with groomed children and fake snow.
To avoid offending non Christians, natal is called the festivities.
You may call it Hanukah for all I care especially in USA where
the Israeli propaganda is slowly strangling America’s ability to
play fair and think straight. How bizarre Christmas often can be.
I’m watching a Santa advertizing olive oil. In Palestine farmers
have their olive trees cut down by odious settlers. So much hate
the intruders want it all and they feel no charities for the people
they rob. But not all is bad, here where I live, the homeless can
come in from the cold and eat humble pie but no wine though.
And as we sing, drink and wear silly hats, children die in Africa.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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All These Wrongs, Again Right
You are both Cecile Marie's Grand-daughter,
The spitting images of your Father,
But, because of the failures of your Mothers,
I wish every day you had others!
You each have a beautiful Sister, who has been kept a secret,
And if I left it to them, the would keep it;
Each day that passe is another opportunit missed, -
Not memories, upon which I could have reminisced!
You each have an Uncle you don't even know,
As well as four Aunts, whose love may not truly show,
Until this burden of estrangement is lifted, -
Until your presence is again, gifted!
You have an entire family just waiting, to know you-
Part of a whole new world I am waiting to show you!
Soon, my beloved Angels, a new day will dawn-
Once I am again near to thee, and the pain, gone!
Though you are not aware of this,
I work each day, to correct this injustice!
Though time and ignorance have been our nemesis,
I need to promise, and for you, to remember this:
There is naught in this world of more import
Than the two of you and our mutual consort!
I shall ensure that you meet with all you deserve;
Our's is the one relation I need build, then preserve
At all costs, no matter the sacrifice-
Anything less would not meet, with satisfice!
This, my beloved Daughters, is the world that awaits you,
Though we live now through time only the Fates knew,
Our future is most beautiful and bright-
Once I make all these wrongs, again right!
-Maurice Harris,3 July 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Detroit
(ian hunter)
(transcribed by nicole apostola)
He used to ride through the streets, crying through the alleyway
Freezing cold in the early morning light
Out to get a salary
Detroit, detroit
Tv image ain't gonna pay the bills
Big big cars
Detroit, detroit
The fan
Detroit, detroit
Big big shots
Got their heads in the sand
The usual
(buzzing cars noises from ian)
You're late
Detroit, detroit
He's a working man
Ghost town
Ghost town
(indistinguishable sounds, laughs)
The loneliest man in the world
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sans People
Will you let me have a glimpse of people?
People on the streets? People sauntering by, people smiling.
People intending to take a right turn,
Suddenly changed the mind and took to the left.
People across the meadows,
Past the shops, cinemas, theatres, Opera houses,
People racing down, people in the cars, bus, tram, train.
How I wish to have a glimpse of them, the procession of people!
Will you let me have a glimpse of them-
Men, women and children in the houses?
Am I to live only with the fluky glimpse of a strip of cloud
Or the streak of sun, penetrating through the chinks of my window?
People, they said are barred out,
I've to live the rest of my life sans people.
poem by Taslima Nasrin
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Roof Top Poet
He was known as the roof top poet
He was good, but he wouldn’t show it.
He wrote about everything on the streets
While listening to the Latin beat.
His upbringing inspired him
To write about crime and sin.
He wrote about street drugs everywhere
And dirty needles that they would share.
He played the conga and bongos too
This is what he had learned to do.
There was not a topic that he would not touch
For he loved life much to much.
He wrote about robberies, muggings
And murder, prostitution, gambling
Corruption and all the rest
His talent for street writing made him the best.
But there was a soft side to him
That people did not know
And where ever children needed him
He would go.
He was a volunteer in the children s hospital
And the orphanages too, which was
Something that nobody knew.
He would give them love, affection, and laughter
Wealth or fame he wasn’t after.
He gave them the key elements for the
Children to survive, HOPE, LOVE, FAITH
With hope in their hearts and faith in GOD
There was nothing that they could not do.
If to themselves they would be true.
Now if we could be such as HE
The world would be better for the children you see.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET YOURSELF FREE
poem by Louis Rams
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Detroit (Out Take 5 - Vocal)
(ian hunter)
(transcribed by nicole apostola)
He used to ride through the streets, crying through the alleyway
Freezing cold in the early morning light
Out to get a salary
Detroit, detroit
Tv image aint gonna pay the bills
Big big cars
Detroit, detroit
The fan
Detroit, detroit
Big big shots
Got their heads in the sand
The usual
(buzzing cars noises from ian)
Youre late
Detroit, detroit
Hes a working man
Ghost town
Ghost town
(indistinguishable sounds, laughs)
The loneliest man in the world
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To me you are
To me you are the woman
that walks up and down
at the traffic light
and smiles almost shy,
when I look up
and still give a view
of her breasts
To me you are
the hunger and pain,
that I hear in the voices
of children in back streets
where they loose all courage.
To me you are
the crippled gum sniffing children,
that swing walk
with eyes without hope.
To me you are the vagrant,
that struggles along shuffling
and worries about the next
sleeping place and food
and smile without teeth
when he gets a few coins.
To me you are the beggar
who stands unobserved
at a busy traffic light,
while cars are streaming past
where nobody knows or comprehends
his despair.
To me you are the drug dealers
who hangs out in clubs
and look whom they can still catch,
with their contaminating
deadly poison.
To me you are the street thug,
that brakes car windows with bricks
and steal the valuables of people
and sell it at only a Rand or two.
To me you are the criminal
that steals cars in the streets
and are happy
with the despair,
that he is dealing out unscrupulous.
In reality you are the big city
that gives and takes,
where people live like termites
past each other
and rowed in,
as if others do not exist
To rather stay far away from it all
and to get rest and peace there
at times wants to take predominance,
but I love you
like a husband does his wife.
In you is where
some people still build dreams
and wish and live
and have an own place.
In you I see children
giving bread to birds
and people,
giving money to car guards.
In you are places
where people are making a living
and really help each other
and still I believe,
that in places in you
there are more good than evil.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Drifting Away
(orbison/dees)
Sadness slips into the room
On silent steps of sorrow
Stealing sleep and all my dreams
Where will we be tomorrow?
Lying with you, crying with you, drifting
Talking till dawn yet we go on, drifting
Dont understand where we began just drifting apart
Drifting apart feeling alone drifting away
We cant seem to work it out
Drifting from day to day
Wasnt it all about, drifting away
Drifting away, drifting away
Losing the feeling
And now the music of the song is almost gone
That we used to play
From sweet surrender from drifting away, drifting
Two lovers lost two rivers crossed, drifting
Two bridges burned, no lesson learned, drifting
Lonely together, hurting each other
Still we cant say that its over
Can we bring back yesterday?
Will we be forever, forever drifting away
Drifting, drifting away
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homelessness In Winter
back about 30 years ago,
living on the streets in Charlotte...
finally found a job... was lucky enough
to have a place to take a shower...
sleeping in the backseat of a broke
down Ford Maverick... cold winter...
got up and walked 4 miles to work
every morning,4 miles 'home' in the
evening...
went on for a couple months before
i got a place to live...
so yes i know what homelessness
feels like...and i cant help thinking
about all the empty foreclosed houses....
empty houses, homeless people....
back then, even if you couldnt find a
real job, they had a place where you
could go and line up to do day work...
worked all day for about 25 dollars...
if you couldnt do that, you could always
sell blood.... i dont know what they do
now....i just know it's a hard life...and if
you've got family, got kids...
something to think about the next time
you see a homeless person walking the
streets!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Pilgrim's Way
I do not look for holy saints to guide me on my way,
Or male and female devilkins to lead my feet astray.
If these are added, I rejoice---if not, I shall not mind,
So long as I have leave and choice to meet my fellow-kind.
For as we come and as we go (and deadly-soon go we!)
The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
Thus I will honour pious men whose virtue shines so bright
(Though none are more amazed than I when I by chance do right),
And I will pity foolish men for woe their sins have bred
(Though ninety-nine per cent. of mine I brought on my own head).
And, Amorite or Eremite, or General Averagee,
The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
And when they bore me overmuch, I will not shake mine ears,
Recalling many thousand such whom I have bored to tears.
And when they labour to impress, I will not doubt nor scoff;
Since I myself have done no less and---sometimes pulled it off.
Yea, as we are and we are not, and we pretend to be,
The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
And when they work me random wrong, as oftentimes hath been,
I will not cherish hate too long (my hands are none too clean).
And when they do me random good I will not feign surprise.
No more than those whom I have cheered with wayside charities.
But, as we give and as we take---whate'er our takings be---
The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
But when I meet with frantic folk who sinfully declare
There is no pardon for their sin, the same I will not spare
Till I have proved that Heaven and Hell which in our hearts we have
Show nothing irredeemable on either side of the grave.
For as we live and as we die---if utter Death there be---
The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!
Deliver me from every pride---the Middle, High, and Low---
That bars me from a brother's side, whatever pride he show.
And purge me from all heresies of thought and speech and pen
That bid me judge him otherwise than I am judged. Amen!
That I may sing of Crowd or King or road-borne company,
That I may labour in my day, vocation and degree,
To prove the same in deed and name, and hold unshakenly
(Where'er I go, whate'er I know, whoe'er my neighbor be)
This single faith in Life and Death and to Eternity:
``The people, Lord, Thy people, are good enough for me!''
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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