Swallowing Rainbows

Bag lady, who sat outside a bank crying, no socks,or shoes on a cold wet winters day. The image has stayed with me months later.

Her heart escapes me

thrashing against fragile bones

tender tears trapped in silent weeping

while her mouth forms woeful words.

If I asked God to transport me

just for today, he might laugh,

sigh, before turning around the world

to watch me slip and slide

here and there until I return to everywhere

holding her shattered mind

scooping out all of that pain.

“Don't stare”

She whispers

feathers falling from her tongue

“I cannot be undone”

I tried swallowing rainbows for her,

Tried coaxing the sinless sun to shine 

just for a while,

Just for her,

Even gathering rain clouds to wash away the anger

But her hurt stained her soul, and could not be undone.  

But still, they heaped sin upon sin

into every corner of her world

burdened her with words, while the floor remained cold

stone pressed into cheek, while they forced her

deep, dark stabbing moments

fulfilment to their self serving hell.

And she would sing what I could not understand

melancholy was her right hand man

on her left, against her breast, her memories

swathed in pale milk skin

for all to see....

Clutching her thread bare bag

feet scabbed,

her once glorious mane now infested with lice.

Laugh as you might

she rises with grace,

shoeless, her stumbling sight

regards streets with nameless faces

as everywhere beauty escapes in an air of

judgemental acceptance.

She is simply there.

She could be my angel

My Mother

My sister

My child.

She could be you.

She could be me.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

In a world where we spend 40 times on war then people and education. Easy to see the real priority of the USA. Poor boys and girls are waiting in line to go to war because there is nothing else. Vietnam, the men were pretty much forced into war. A economy based on war will get into big trouble. Must find ways to pay the bills. Poor people in the streets must depend on the gifts of regular people. I see your poem daily. World is getting harder. Time for men and woman with honor and humanity to run this world. A powerful poem with a true and real story in this world.
Coyote

[SHEEMA HUQ]

hi there, Bubo, this feeling of post trauma, and holding on to life, in desperation, memories of those dear come through strongly, i really like this poem, thank you

[Shadow]

This poem says as much about you as it does the victim of such a harsh reality. You write with imagination but also with compassion. It's always agonizing to see someone in that kind of situation, I think it always lingers in the minds of those passing by. I know it has in yours and you've put it into words creatively done. The picture also tugs at the heart.

[OceanTropic]

I absolutely loved this poem.

The imagery was so specific, so touching and so full of emotion. And I especially loved the ending. We pass so much judgement on this human being that could be just as equally if not more deserving that we are of our treasures.

She could be you. She could be me.

These words are so simple, and even though we tell it to ourselves everyday, it doesn't really hit home until you read an entire passage about this barefoot, cold and homeless "stray" and realize...this barefoot, cold and homeless "stray" could very well be myself.

Thank you for writing this. Beautiful piece Bubo. I secretly envy your talents.

[Devons]

A piteous and humanely pious tribute to the pitiful. A colourful reminder of the visible day-to-day lottery of life.

The vexed question of 'why?' opens up into a viper's nest of argument, I think. Any reasonable human being should feel sympathy for such a person, but in the end that almost always feels like condescension. One can always attempt empathy, of course, but in the end it can never be achieved. There is no empathy without living the reality - the only unbiased view belongs to the victim themselves.
I often wonder what kind of life led them to such a position; what is their history; who were they before all this..?
They should not be treated like animals, that much is certain. From my own experience, though, I've found that they give less of a damn what we think of them than we do. They seem to live in their world, excluding themselves from ours. If I were in their position, I think I would too. Ironically, the main reason why we feel so bad about their plight is that the extreme contrast between us and them makes us feel guilty when we see them. I wonder if it would be the same if we didn't see them...?

Anyway, none of this detracts from the harsh truth of this poem's portrayal.

[....]

Wow such power & depth in your write. I like this write alot.
I echo Coyotes review.

[Kristallo]

'Her hurt stained her soul and could not be undone.' Powerful words. Very touching and eloquently expressed. I really enjoyed this one.

[M.D Leon]

you expose the hypocrisy of our human nature, were we would rather fend for ourselfs then help out someone who might just be experiencing adversity but is a beautiful person inside, definitely makes me think about what i have. powerful, very very powerful!

[Red Raven]

This kind of sight can be seen everyday, everywhere Bubo but with the intense emotion and understanding you described is heart wrenching. Out here its a normal scene- like walking through fish market where you merely glance at the fish mongers. i FEEL THAT my views will be changed after reading what you have penned down.
Thank you so much for sharing my friend.

RedRaven

[Nautili]

Good job portraying her humanity in a world where we sometimes walk away with a mere glance and maybe our spare change......

[Clockwork]

I like how you remind your audience that anyone could be like that woman. That is especially true in the economic times we live in. However, it is good that we take time to remember those who have been disenfranchised in the hustle and bustle of life.

Like you suggest, we never know when our angels come to visit us. We should all be conscious of those around us, and the fact that grace is not just a material state of possessing goods. Thank you for this wonderful reminder on this, the eve of Christmas.