"Home
For the Homeless"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Sunday, March 6, 7:56 am pst
TForgotten fallen unfettered populace
going about a daily routine which is anything but
half don't want to be here
half wouldn't trade this existence for monetary wealth
and opulent glory
Under the chiaroscuro makeup
of dust and grime
questioning and sullen faces can hardly be made out
sexless, ageless, raceless beings
hiding in the shadows of respectability
asking nothing and gaining naught
Dirty gray head covered
by a moldy wool cap,
the bard rails on with tourette's complicity
his beard nested with insects and dust
his mind clouded by freedom from respect
Lines on the face of the
once beautiful
creased with time's inopportune misfortunes
Half remembered children which are lost in memory
she pilots the overburdened shopping cart
as if it is a stealth bomber
Pasty faced elves running
through the park
playing with time that means nothing
and learning by themselves only those animal instincts
needed for survival
The professor used to know
the answers
until the questions became too burdensome
and gave way to
wine-soaked obliviousness
a simple answer for eternity's enmity
They elevate existence to
a simple yearning
Although elaborate once effervescent longings
breed deep in their souls
They seem to multiply
(like the flies which hover around them)
as the years
fall like old calendar pages into
the bonfires of oblivion
burning forever
And I pass their hungry
eyes without a thought
But I sing the broken record of their lives
Thinking of which sad battles they have fought
Oh populace that the wheels of society deprives
Poetry
2005
