As literary artists, we not only see the world deeper, we are able to express through our words and reach many through the articulation of our hearts. Flexwriters is a writing community founded in December of 2007 by published poet/author Tarringo T. Vaughan. Part of [...]
Words Of Shelter
Open submission for poetry and writing on the topics of homelessness, poverty and hunger. Submissions must be original with no length requirement. No length requirement. Poems can be of any style. Send submissions to Submit@flexwritersonline.net No deadline
Accepted literature will be published on www.fwcares.net
Today many families continue to struggle poverty and hunger. On any given night in America there are anywhere from 700,000 to 2 million people homeless and across the world, that number triples. There are many organizations and programs across the country devoted to ending homelessness and many local shelters and food pantries working endlessly to help those in need. As writers it is the voice of our words that can have the power to open the eyes of a heart or communicate with a mind. It can be your words that changes and saves a life. Your writing matters.
When is the deadline?
Hi Nicholas…there is no deadline
Shelter hymm
Who lives there
Life has a fabric tear
Who squats down
It a dirty old town
Who lives in hope
Their life needs soap
Do you see a vagabond frown
In rags his academic gown
Classed as a pest
Some say shelters lice in his vest
Nothing to pawn
Tomorrow the same old dawn
His life is lost
He is dying in the frost
Do you know him
lullaby him gods hymn
where he lived
only care was deprived
hearts harden
only in someone else back garden.
Steve James.
Oh how life turned.
Raggedy coat, pants with stitches of other clothes sewed into them, gloves with fingertips exposed, smell of alcohol on them, red eyes staring at me, that is what I thought the homeless looked like, I judged each one of them even though the mirage wasn’t right, so stereotypical of me, to look with my nose in the air, to blinded by my own ignorance to see, to stingy to give a dime, not trying to help because of course there just wasn’t time, and I worked so hard for mine, so why can’t you. After all, the homelessness was the choice you brought upon you, you didn’t work hard enough, you should emulate what I do, but who, am I, to judge. To hold some kind of grudge because they didn’t fit in to my idealistic, yet unrealistic, and to simplistic of a world. To guarded of my own materialism to give a helping hand, so used to acting like you are not apart of this land, when all you sought from me was a dime for that can, but at last. Look how I treated you, didn’t want to care, didn’t want to breath the same air, but dare I say now, things are different. I looped you into what the one eyed monster showed me, staring at the pictures it flashed before me, listening to the news even though it bored me, so you got the bad end of the stick. Thought you were just an addict, never took the time to ask about your life or what have you, I was just to concern with my own. I see now the err of my way, as I sit next to you on this hot ass day, thinking about how all the pompous, self loathing things I used to say, and now I am one of you. Lost my own home in the 08 crisis, looked at my friends for help and they all said stare decsis, and for a while my soul was divided, and now I congregate with you. I understand that you were a veteran, had a family, but it all fell apart, and this is your new start, and now like the grinch I have grown a heart. Amazing how life turns out to be. I am now you, and you me, and understand now. We sit here chatting, talking, learning of each other, learning our history, our fathers our mothers, and I’m just so happy to have a friend, apologize for abusing you in my mind, you said not to worry because you don’t have time, and we must get up and get on our grind because this homelessness is temporary. We hit bottom and yes its scary, but this is real. This is real, this is the new deal, for now. Homelessness is only a government term, and term is short, so make it so you say. Oh how life turned.