Saturday, March 13, 2010

Poetry Works (a poem - homelessness)

yesterday morning I wrote in my journal -- I shall spend this weekend painting. I need to immerse myself in paint. Throw myself against a canvas and watch paint splash riotously against the surface of my creativity coming alive.

Later, as I left an appointment and was driving to the office (I have hands free), my girlfriend U. called and asked, "Do you want to come out to the RiverRock Studio and paint all weekend?"

YES!

So, I'm off this morning to splash in paint and colour and texture and tone and feeling the freedom of letting the creative urge push me around on a white canvas.

So...

I've made this a Poetry Works Weekend...

Today and tomorrow I'll share some homeless inspired poetry and then, I'll see you Monday to share my wonderings through the weekend!

Nameste!

1. Turning Up Empty

Leaves Fall
down
Scatter to the wind
I fall
silently
breathless
a leaf
left behind
in autumn's passing.

I
lie
waiting for
eternity
to stop
turning
arms reach
out
hands turn up
empty
I get up
and leave
the ground
where no one
saw me falling.


2. Nowhere

Hunched shoulders
shelter
a huddled back
from blows
of indifference
hurled at men
standing
together
apart
of the street
cornered desperation
where alleys meet
dead ended in
nowhere
but dreams
cemented
into shuffling feet
running on empty.

A hand extended
help me please
no one hears
no one stops
no one reaches
back
a hand
a greasy coin
a smile.

Part of the landscape
fixtures
of the street
they stand
forgetting
where they were meant to be
waiting for a direction
a sign
an idea
of where they can go.

Waiting.
They move on
to nowhere but
the street
from where they came.


3. The Holy Mary Solution

Holy Mary
pray for me
Save me
and He answered
Bless you my child
I will carry you in your desperation
but no one was listening.

Silently
eyes vacant
he cried
Save me
from
this place that never stops
aching.
make it stop
make it change
make it happen

It
remains
the same
No Divine intervention
falling into the lap
of plenty
of empty hands
and faces
lined with defeat
worn out
worn down
out worn dreams.

Holy Mary
Mother of God
can't you see
me?
I'm dying
here
Standing
on a corner
Reaching
out
into
my pocket
with no one
reaching back.

I had dreams
where did they go?
I had wishes
no candles lit for me.
Mother of God
can't you see?
I'm lost
in the dark winter
of my soul
and cannot feel
the light
of Divine intervention.

5 comments:

Maureen said...

Have a wonderful weekend in the paint!

The poems themselves create images.

Hugs.

nAncY said...

coolarino!

JoAnne said...

Louise, Before my long-time close friend passed away from cancer, she sent me this cool-looking container of pastels with a sweet note giving me permission to color outside the lines. I see your poetry like painting a beautiful picture. I guess one could say I paint outside the lines when I write :). I think I will leave "watching paint splash riotously against the surface of my creativity" for you.

drw@bainbridge.net said...

The Holy Mary Solution -- so powerful a poem. How do you stay so upbeat when you obviously feel their pain?

You are an amazing woman; enjoy the splash of paint!

Kathleen said...

Your empathy compounds and multiplies love. You make the unlovely see their own beauty. And us see it too.

Have fun playing with color. Come back restored and refreshed from being inside the rainbow.