In the Home of the Homeless by Angkarn Chanthathip

In the Home of the Homeless by Angkarn Chanthathip

1.

One window among many
reflects events    mirrors rubbish
a broken roof lashed to its frame
collapsing and crumbling as it struggles on

the crowded world of the homeless
the community of the world could offer
the edge appears    missing a family  nearly recovered
the house stays cold   alien   hardship returns

to have your roots yanked out from under your family tree
to wander through different times and places
strength ebbs away    destitution    charity
impressions blur    hardship approaches

one essence in submission   those people
one essence    many differences
fallen    absconded    overgrown    neglected    just 'a case'
the times shift and change    on the move

'refugees' through circumstance
pressure wears you down    constricts you
until aborted hope collides with strength
grit marks fade    never entirely

grimy windows in the heart of the city
exist    go    are   strange    lonely    distorted image
portrait    identity    'ghost'    living
twisted shadow    blamed

the house you can't find    can't return to
the hope that sustains    the dream that warms
under the flyover    pavement    have mercy
image fuses    eroding love

possessions gone    roads closed    promises broken
can't go forward    can't go back    trapped
public place packed with the poor
the centre cordoned off

'refugees' through circumstance
melt into disarray
Sanam Luang Park* trespassed    altered
expands into every corner of the city

2.

look around aimlessly    against the world
instinctively connected    release
rubbish mounts    cast offs    abandoned
destitute    deprived    humiliated

looks unsettled like an unfinished house
dream no further than a home
a road    an alley    a side street    like a sign
nothing is what is seen

* Sanam Luang is a large public park in the centre of Bangkok that became 'home' to a large number of homeless people who were then 'cleansed' from the area.

Safe by Charles Bukowski

Safe by Charles Bukowski

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

A Daughter of Eve by Christina Georgina Rossetti

A Daughter of Eve by Christina Georgina Rossetti

A fool I was to sleep at noon,
And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
A fool to snap my lily.

My garden-plot I have not kept;
Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh it was summer when I slept,
It's winter now I waken.

Talk what you please of future spring
And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow:
Stripp'd bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
I sit alone with sorrow. 

I Have Found What You Are Like by E. E. Cummings

I Have Found What You Are Like by E. E. Cummings

i have found what you are like
the rain,

            (Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
                                  with thinned

newfragile yellows

                      lurch and.press

—in the woods
                      which
                              stutter
                                        and

                                              sing
And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
                  your kiss

Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes

Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?