waiting for Jesus

[revolutionR]

the destroyed person takes a seat on the curb
and waits for the reality of the world to hit him
it could be some friendly passerby that sees
the perplexed look on the stranger's face
sitting on a curb like that
waiting for Jesus to come back
or the little tramp

[mtmynd]

me gusta, amigo.

[saw]

this reminded me of a video piece i just saw where the filmmaker dressed up close relatives or friends of people in rags, and had them sit on the sidewalk slumped over in all their misfortune and arranged for their loved ones to walk down that sidewalk with no idea any of this was being staged....in every instance the loved ones glanced at them and kept walking, as tho homeless people are invisible....later they interviewed them, and the viewers get to see themselves walking by people they were very close to...their expressions were priceless...in one case it was a guys wife....he was stunned

so lets hope Charlie Chaplin or JC steps in to help these souls

[creativesoul]

maybe homeless is best described as nomadic
most of the earth is covered
with hotels motels and buildings
179 a night
that is quite the event
when you are cold

powell butte and kelly butte in portland are favorite free
camping spots
under the bridge
fear and surrvival have a discussion

[revolutionR]

I listen to a free radio station in Santa Cruz calif.
on my puter, there is a show that deals with
the homeless issue, i listen to it.

the poem just wrote in a few minutes
as I do a lot when I write on here at night
just before going to sleep.

I wasn't exactly thinking about homeless
maybe the poet that is a nomad, that is not mad
or mad, or angry at the world, or just feelin bad
or sad, Dad. But the homeless thing really is the gauge.
A metaphor for all us lost souls, or gypsy spirits.
the poem starts from that reality. We would not write
poetry if we felt that the world was a home, and not just a house.
I have a place to live but just by chance I could just as well not.
It's good to feel at home in our bodies but they are just a house.

oh and the Jesus part, as if some event is going to happen
that will make everything better for everybody, or for some
people that think only some people are worthy.

ask the little tramp.

[gypsyjoker]

been there,
happened to me too a couple of times
the last time has been forty years ago
if you count living in a truck for a million miles as not being homeless on the road

Jesus loves me yes I know, but I would rather pay rent. Living in a Union Gospel™ shelter in Nashville forty years ago, had to get preached to every night, just to sleep there. Not so bad, but I went mad, turned into a Jesus freak for a while, yes I was all messed up on the lord. Thought I was special, chosen. Chosen to suffer.
I had them transcendental metaphysical homelessness blues

sorry for the ramble, liked your poem very much
probably not your cup of tea but I love this song about down and out at the Union Gospel Mission™
Lean on Jesus before He Leans on You
I like his other song about Jesus too, it is called
drop kick me Jesus through the goal posts of life

hope you like it too
thanks for the poem

The Seventh Solitude

[revolutionR]

There is a scene in my novel, where I am stoned on LSD
and a jesus freak comes up to me, and for a moment I
have to hear his rap, and I stand there and all these
images rattle through my head, before I respond. Another time
years later I met this homeless? guy that was some kind of crazy Jesus
person.I hung out with him for a day and pretended to be converted.
I was experimenting on what it would be like to be as crazy as a hoot
on Jesus. Both times I was in a rather vulnerable state. I was a crazy poet
the second time. I had been reading some novel whose name I cannot
recall about the life of Jesus, so I was trying to understand what all
that Bible story was about in relation to world events, and philosophy.
Another time I met a run away Hare Krishna guy and he slept on my
floor for a couple nights. He told me what it was like living at the Hare Krishna
center.He was afraid that they would find him, he had a shaved head.Nice guy.

[creativesoul]

i once felt the bride of jesus - i felt the lace- the childlike innocence- the pure love- i thought that jesus knew of this- and that with the heart of a child- i keep seeking everything GODLY and quite often i mistake God for what i think- oh well- i will wait longer-

[revolutionR]

bride of Frankenstein, bride of Jesus, bride of the Poet.

[creativesoul]

Some intercessors wake up at 4 in the morning and walk around praying-

[Arcadia]

nomad flip of mind! Beautiful poem & thread!

[dadio]

We wait or not as the case may be. Fine poem.

[gypsyjoker]

so many great trashy country songs about dying, probably my favorite is the blue grass song "Oh Death!" —Soggy Mountain Boys

I was walking south on North Charles St
saw a man walking north as he approached me, got within about six feet, I was looking at him when suddenly he fell forward on his face , did even put his arms out to brace himself, just smack face on concrete sidewalk, lay motionless a puddle of blood around his head . Never forgot what he looked like. just died like that in mid step, man that is a fast death


That was back before my acid days which were in the seventies
this was in the sixties during my crazy days
back when i did not need no stinking badge to freak out
after November 22, 1963 I stayed freaked till my first trip when I freaked in



even so it is acid etched on the neural receptors for what ever reason this compulsive scribbling is.

wish I had a novel going
all i got is this spontaneous beatnik crap
so don't mind these rambles
don't mean nothing

[creativesoul]

Perhaps the " novel" is happening now- letters from writers-
I am ready to melt into the furniture
I am tired

[revolutionR]

I just happened to come on here, I wrote the novel too late.