A Poem a Day (145): There’s a hound in the street

There’s a hound in the street

There’s a hound in the street,

Brown and whimpering.

He hasn’t eaten for days

And he peers up at you.

There’s a man in the street,

Shaking, gesticulating.

He hasn’t slept in days

And he calls out to you.

Did you notice them

In your rush to the station?

There’s a girl on the train,

Sad-eyed and weeping.

She hasn’t spoken in days

And she won’t look at you.

There’s a boy on the train,

Wild-eyed and seething.

He hasn’t shot up in days

And his eyes are pleading.

Did you notice them,

Or disappear inside yourself?

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, May 15, 2020

A Poem a Day (107): Down, not out

Written for JD Mader's 2minutesgo website - head over there to write, read and comment. Have a good Saturday. The sun is still shining!

Down, not out

Get up, fall down, drop out

People aren’t dropping out for fun,
It’s cos they don’t know how to be any more

Cardboard cut-outs scrawl a life’s pain,
Sound desperation’s mouthpiece of want -
A small request against a backdrop of have

Businessmen glide past the invisible ones
Shuffled into urine-stained doorways,
Rushing to a deadline conjoined with cash -
Humanity at a discount, 50% off,
You won’t find this bargain off the high street

We’re all walking the edge, this delicate balance,
Sky-high rents amid competition for space

They’re hawking pubs and venues for inaffordable homes.
Miss a rent to swap your room for a cardboard box,
Setting up shop in everything you own in hope
That someone will find a drop of empathy and stop

Get up, fall down, drop out

People aren’t dropping out for fun,
It’s cos they don’t know how to be any more

Do you have something to fall back upon?
Did you save enough in case the deck falls?
Did you lock it away safe for that rainy day
Cos the flood’s coming and you won’t have a say

We’re all fragile urns beneath our blind arrogance,
A step away from a slip, a fall, a plunge

A scrap of a dog barks in a lurid neon alleyway
And you feel he’s you, lost, cold and alone,
Looking for shelter, somewhere warm to lay his head

But the Man is busy counting out his pounds
And he hasn’t got time for the waif and stray,
So carry on whining because no one can hear
While the rents go up and winter crawls in to bury.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 21, 2019

A Poem a Day 2015 (12): City sleepers

City sleepers

In between the spaces

Wander the abandoned

Strewn beneath the bleak

Stepping stones to the past

Waves of yearning sound

Tearing into the dark

Jagged screams cut silences

Upon the marked hand

Shadows dance, etched upon

The night owls take flight

Escaping the profound

Among the distant sleepers

Fingers dip to steal a coin

Taking breath for granted

Here it is just one leap

Into the maze

copyright Vickie Johnstone

The Indie Exchange #FlashFiveFriday: Giving

It's Friday Flash time again...

The prompt is...
Giving

#FlashFiveFriday is a weekly flash fiction/flash blogging prompt run by The Indie Exchange.

The rules are very simple if you’d like to take part:

1) Write for no longer than five minutes;
2) No upper or lower word limits;
3) You must write something new;
4) You can prepare your post ahead of time but the 5 minute limit still applies; and
5) If you add your blog post to the weekly linky you must visit five other blogs that week too to show your support.

http://theindieexchange.com/flashfivefriday/

Why not give it a go?


Here are mine... each individual poem was given a maximum of 5 minutes. 

Giving

In the doorway he slumps down

Turning neon below a hotel sign

A trickle of rain bounces off his nose

To patter on the cold stone ground

Passersby give him the cold eye

As he stares out beneath his hat

The night chill wanders around him

Hugs his shoulders tighter yet

Across the street, crowds gather

Queuing noisily to enter the club

In the distance a guitar is wailing

Inside, his hopes are languishing

He remembers times past in light

Faces he once loved and lost

The times they change so swiftly

He almost doesn’t know himself

Here in the doorway, no one stops

Invisible his heart seems to pour

But no one feels it sitting there

They step over his legs, he isn’t here

Down the pavement a girl strides

Hugging her warm coat around her

The lonely man looks up and smiles

At her sweet and bonny face

Peering down again, he sniffs

While the cold sneaks into his toes

Swirls of water chase down the gutter

Carrying a forlorn leaf or two

Yet she stops and speaks and smiles

Spilling coins into his waiting hand

The spirit of giving warms him

Resurrecting the man inside.

Haiku on the theme of giving

Dressed all in pink, she

Recalls her mum, finishing

Her JustGiving race

Walking Shep, she stops

Before the open smile to

Post a greeting card

“Giddy up” shouts Santa,

Chasing the elves with their gifts –

“Christmas is coming!”

Sparkling tinsel lights

Bright boxes eager to thrill

Waking Christmas kids