Resistance Poetry 2019
Cold And Alone~ a Homeless Poem.
Cold and alone on a dirty street,
fearing daily of nothing to eat.
to never get breakfast, supper or lunch,
Dreaming of days i used to have brunch.
My shoes are worn tattered and torn,
Should i sell my self to prostitution or porn?
i am always shivering its cold out here,
And to think that i thought there was nothing to fear
i see people walking by staring,
even more that are driving by glaring,
its hurts me inside to know what they see,
the thing that they stare at is the bum named me.
i wish to get back on my feet,
to have a life that feels complete,
to have a place to be warm,
not out here in the cold winter Storm
Cold and alone on a dirty street,
seeing people of hate and decite,
i know of me a nice person whome has it bad,
and has to DREAM of the life i had.
I want my life back, my happiness, my things,
a phone that is black and rings,
a home and a warm bed,
and out back a big tool shed.
my dreams are now lost,
at the amount that things cost,
that money that i need,
for the life i want to lead.
I cant get a job because of my state,
i've tryed before but i fear its too late,
will i ever get out of this cardboard box?
and into a home with doors and locks.
No it wont happen, this is me.
that some one you see,
that scum that you'll meet,
cold and alone on a dirty street.
By:Mitsukai-Kitsune.
Cold and alone on a dirty street,
fearing daily of nothing to eat.
to never get breakfast, supper or lunch,
Dreaming of days i used to have brunch.
My shoes are worn tattered and torn,
Should i sell my self to prostitution or porn?
i am always shivering its cold out here,
And to think that i thought there was nothing to fear
i see people walking by staring,
even more that are driving by glaring,
its hurts me inside to know what they see,
the thing that they stare at is the bum named me.
i wish to get back on my feet,
to have a life that feels complete,
to have a place to be warm,
not out here in the cold winter Storm
Cold and alone on a dirty street,
seeing people of hate and decite,
i know of me a nice person whome has it bad,
and has to DREAM of the life i had.
I want my life back, my happiness, my things,
a phone that is black and rings,
a home and a warm bed,
and out back a big tool shed.
my dreams are now lost,
at the amount that things cost,
that money that i need,
for the life i want to lead.
I cant get a job because of my state,
i've tryed before but i fear its too late,
will i ever get out of this cardboard box?
and into a home with doors and locks.
No it wont happen, this is me.
that some one you see,
that scum that you'll meet,
cold and alone on a dirty street.
By:Mitsukai-Kitsune.
Co-archived Pops McMahon
A piece inspired by Anna Bole's painting for Charity Midlands Affordable Accomodation.
On a winter's night as darkness comes - the rain falls from the sky
People wrap their coats tightly around - as the wind chill factor is high
Alone he sits on the cold hard bridge - the paper cup in his hand
A portrait of modern Ireland today - and how things really stand
People rush by with heads bent low - he doesn't merit even a glance
He is just one of thousands - who never had a chance
How he ended up there, no one knows - his story remains untold
Maybe he couldn't keep up his payments - and so his house was sold
When the tiger roared in Ireland - the rich got richer still
And when the bubble badly burst - they just passed on the staggering bill
The vultures came to pick the bones - of those struggling to make ends meet
Never giving them any chance - to get back on their feet
And so the homeless numbers rise -more people like this poor soul
As government ministers sit idly by - just posturing in their role
They pontificate from exalted heights - quoting fancy figures and stats
But to the rich and corporate guys - they meekly doff their hats
They cut the benefits of those in need - on them they can easily prey
While letting rich corporations - massive profits to siphon away
This is now a two tier country - and God help all those in need
For compassion has long since been replaced - by avaricious greed
Once an Ireland of saints and scholars - we have long since left that behind
Now an Ireland where those in power - compassion for others can't find
They sit idly by as we crumble - as our services worsen each day
They do absolutely nothing - to warrant their indecent pay
As the very fabric of society stretches - until soon it will be threadbare
Those least in position to do so - are the ones who still show they care
We must continue to support these good people - and do the best that we can
For Ireland is all of us people - every child, every woman and man
Let us reach out a hand to each other - as our forefathers did years ago
Let us show to the rest of the world - the Ireland we all want to know.
On a winter's night as darkness comes - the rain falls from the sky
People wrap their coats tightly around - as the wind chill factor is high
Alone he sits on the cold hard bridge - the paper cup in his hand
A portrait of modern Ireland today - and how things really stand
People rush by with heads bent low - he doesn't merit even a glance
He is just one of thousands - who never had a chance
How he ended up there, no one knows - his story remains untold
Maybe he couldn't keep up his payments - and so his house was sold
When the tiger roared in Ireland - the rich got richer still
And when the bubble badly burst - they just passed on the staggering bill
The vultures came to pick the bones - of those struggling to make ends meet
Never giving them any chance - to get back on their feet
And so the homeless numbers rise -more people like this poor soul
As government ministers sit idly by - just posturing in their role
They pontificate from exalted heights - quoting fancy figures and stats
But to the rich and corporate guys - they meekly doff their hats
They cut the benefits of those in need - on them they can easily prey
While letting rich corporations - massive profits to siphon away
This is now a two tier country - and God help all those in need
For compassion has long since been replaced - by avaricious greed
Once an Ireland of saints and scholars - we have long since left that behind
Now an Ireland where those in power - compassion for others can't find
They sit idly by as we crumble - as our services worsen each day
They do absolutely nothing - to warrant their indecent pay
As the very fabric of society stretches - until soon it will be threadbare
Those least in position to do so - are the ones who still show they care
We must continue to support these good people - and do the best that we can
For Ireland is all of us people - every child, every woman and man
Let us reach out a hand to each other - as our forefathers did years ago
Let us show to the rest of the world - the Ireland we all want to know.
Co-archived JP Burke
We are not a free restaurant
That the public help themselves
We feed and clothe homeless
Just show us some respect.
.
Lots of needy people
That are far worse off that you
That are dying of the hunger
Freezing cold and soaked through.
.
What is your mentality
When you steal their food
What way were you brought up
That you can be so cruel.
.
A little human decency
Is all that we ask
While you passing by
Just refrain from this act.
.
DC Vol ©
That the public help themselves
We feed and clothe homeless
Just show us some respect.
.
Lots of needy people
That are far worse off that you
That are dying of the hunger
Freezing cold and soaked through.
.
What is your mentality
When you steal their food
What way were you brought up
That you can be so cruel.
.
A little human decency
Is all that we ask
While you passing by
Just refrain from this act.
.
DC Vol ©
Co-archived Verses Of Life
THE STROKESTOWN ROUT (TREMBLING BAILIFFS)...
Twas a stormy owld night,
But twas drying by morning,
When out from night's end, came men without warning,
Come from each corner to Roscommon's green farms,
Their aim to bring halt to the wrongs and the harms.
The wrong and the harms that sully these lands,
As our hearths and our homes are torn from our hands,
Our brave fighting men dashed through windows and doors,
Putting to flight the bankers paid force of whores.
The lackies had beaten the clan of that home,
But now they faced men of sizes their own,
And ran they did naked through the fields and the glens,
And hid in the ditches like trembling marsh hens,
Three score and more men had run them that night,
At home for their breakfast before coming of light.
Twas a stormy owld night,
But twas drying by morning,
When out from night's end, came men without warning,
Come from each corner to Roscommon's green farms,
Their aim to bring halt to the wrongs and the harms.
The wrong and the harms that sully these lands,
As our hearths and our homes are torn from our hands,
Our brave fighting men dashed through windows and doors,
Putting to flight the bankers paid force of whores.
The lackies had beaten the clan of that home,
But now they faced men of sizes their own,
And ran they did naked through the fields and the glens,
And hid in the ditches like trembling marsh hens,
Three score and more men had run them that night,
At home for their breakfast before coming of light.
Co-archived Finbar O'Marcaigh