The water simmered slowly
as it brewed the hobo coffee
in the speckled blue pot
Seasoned, as the unshaven men
who sat aroung the glow
of nights dying embers.
In a ring, built of river stone
down the hill, from the tracks
The following evening after a day of
wandering and seeing.....
Hot stew simmered over the stoked fire
Bowls were passed around holding
carrots, potatoes and turnips
wild herbs from the hedges
and water from the springs of life
Tobacco was rolled in white paper
and the fire was fed with more wood
as the jug was shared equally
The nectar of death was freely drunk
that rots the intestines and shrinks the liver
Yet as it's digested it's soaked into food
For the wise man that lives there
and cooks stew; drinks and smokes
is more than tired eyes and an old lined face
He reached his years through knowledge
of how to survive and indeed live
The homeless men that others think crude
were satisfied so sat back in anticipation....
Full and lined expressive lips
that have told an infinite number of tales
pursed to allow savoury coffee
to flow over the tongue and down the throat
before opening and enlightening:
Brothers I saw an unfortunate man
while roaming the pavements today
Attired in a black suit resembling a strait jacket
with a face that had lived the same scene
each day for numerous years
He walked head down, eyes to the ground
sightless, loveless and stranded
for he had not learnt how to live
An extraordinary event occurred
A small child was almost killed
by a car, but the man leapt out and saved her
Now you would think that he'd be joyful
and smile for he'd saved a young life
yet he paused before going on his way
You see he cannot perceive rainbows
for he is locked in routine, a slave to bosses
The hobos grunted in agreement
before indulging in another slurp
At that moment a young drunk
weaved and wandered into their scene
He seemed unsure of where he was going
or of what he wished to do
so they bade him take a seat on a old fruit box
and offered food and warmth for the night
The tale of the man who'd saved a life
and yet had not been touched by it
was related to the newcomer in brief
The unsure youngster absorbed the warmth
and the looks in the eyes of the men
before leaning back against a wall
and closing his eyes
He slept peacefully that night.....
For the first time in his life
he understood the meaning of freedom
Author notes
The first verse was written by Bluesman.
A contest entry
- In Honor Of My 500th Trophy & Three Years Of Sobriety by BluesMan.
6000 points, ended May 25, 28 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Can you perceive God's face deep inside your sorrow and suffering?
Comments
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WOW!!! I'm stunned. This beauty you have penned just happens to be an extension of the complete version of my poem. Thank you so much for entering my contest Georgia.
I'm doing something a little different in this contest. I thought it would be a cool idea after a poem is posted to give each poet the link to the poem that their prompt came from, so here's your's. I just thought everyone would get a kick out of it. You don't have to click on the link and if you do you don't have to comment either. I just thought you would like to see the entire work.
You more than anyone else deserves to see the origional that the prompt came from.
Bill
Freedom
http://allpoetry.com/item/show/4077601/2#comments
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Gives a whole different light of perspective on hobos my friend. I have known many of them that were the nicest people you could ever know, just bad luck and decisions rob them of so much. This was a wonderful read. Had to read it 3 times!
Blessings and best wishes,
Frogz~
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Beautifully done, taking BluesMan's first stanza, and flowing wonderfully through the whole story. I loved the story within the story, and remember when my parents used to tell me about the hobos that would ride trains into their town, and Mom would always find something for them to eat and take on their journey... I don't know if they still exist, but you made them come alive here. Lovely work.
Lita
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I was inspired by a homeless man a friend told me about. Apparently he was an alcoholic but was old and pretty healthy because every day he'd cook a pot of stew!
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