A Conversation and an observation

A Conversation and an observation

A Poem by Judas Hammer
"

I once saw a homeless man and he saw me. This is how I think it went.

"

 A conversation and an observation.

 

While on my daily urban trek

Walking with out knowledge of what I am to expect.

To the right corner of my eyes

 what did my eyes realize?

A half naked man on a long flight of stairs having a conversation.

This is an odd aberration.

I thought.

My prejudges I fought.

I was not surprised that he was over sized.

Tan from the roofless sky his face greets everyday.

This being clad in just a pair of ripped shorts had much say.

To himself.

It was a sick moving  monologue.

I think he mention, Milk, the Sky, and God.

His wild beard

 Appeared

 To have a life force of its own.

Man, I better leave this man alone.

Minimal eyes contact was needed.

To himself he begged and pleaded.

One minute jovial.

The next melancholy.

His mouth screaming.

While his eyes scheming

 on  survival.

Then I was spotted.

Instantaneous Felt like my insides rotted.

 He knew what I was thinking.

I felt low.

I picked up my pace.

And quickly hid my face.

In shame.

I could have been human enough to ask his name.

Then again it is rude to cut into ones conversation.

 

Who does this guy think he is supposed to be?

Looking up his nose at me.

With his tight running pants and his cheap white shirt.

If I were 20 years younger I would make that b***h wear a skirt.

(“He’s looking at us, I think harm is his reason”)

Every time you talk it sound like some sort of treason!

(“Don’t worry next year will be our season”)

That’s all you every say.

I would like to make that quick walking gawkier pay.

(“My its such a nice day in May”)

You fool its February.

Stop acting joyful and merry.

Back to this snob with his Ipod and God complex.

I would like to break his neck.

I deserve respect.

I used to be someone.

It’s not even fair.

I’m my youth I was a millionaire.

If he talks to me I would tell him how.

Here and now.

(“ Yes but you lost everything, pauper now used to be king”)

Does he not know I could take his life?

Hope he walks back later when I have my knife.

© 2009 Judas Hammer


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...
The lines "It’s not even fair" is not in italics like the rest (nor is it in parentheses); does this indicate an agreement between the two personalities. I wonder which personality is really the homeless man; the joyful, merry one or the other. I spot a common ground between yourself and the homeless man; you both have a 'killer' instinct. The scenario you presented is humorous, but the story is sad, sad for many reasons. Emotional write.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Absolutely incredible message of poignant reality...and truth. Unfortunately a lot of snobbery and aloofness in this crazy world rather than humanity and sincerity.
You pen a picture of society and reality that whould not be as world's apart as they really are. Thank you for sharing your artful, realism.

Posted 13 Years Ago


This had a flow to it that I wasn't expecting. the homeless man, the 'prince turned pauper' with homocidal tendancies really caught my attention. The conversations he has with himself seem to illustrate two personas; perhaps the former rich man and the now homeless one.
A very interesting read; it really caught my attention.
Nice Work!

Posted 13 Years Ago


very different . that itself was attractive.

Posted 13 Years Ago


Funky, :D heheee, so cool. I wrote something like this :) this is awesome love poems like this

Posted 13 Years Ago


Wow, moving work - dramatic ending.

Posted 13 Years Ago


enjoyed reading this alot!!

Posted 13 Years Ago


I really don't understand this one to be quite honest. Its well done.. a little hard to follow for me but regardless of the matter, I enjoyed it.

Posted 13 Years Ago


Very cool. I love how it's the thoughts of both of them. More then one if I get the homeless guy right. Entertaining to read.

Posted 13 Years Ago


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TJ
I love the eccentricity of the homeless mans portion an te guilt of the passerby's portion...guilty but not guilty enough to help.
Well done

Posted 13 Years Ago


This is amazingly intense, especially the italicized bits, they are haunting & chilling and it makes me feel like I'm inside someone's head, which, I kind of am, in a way. I love the blunt and unique fluidity of this poem. Fantastic job!!

Posted 13 Years Ago



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Added on March 10, 2009

Author

Judas Hammer
Judas Hammer

The City of Angeles, CA



About
I like to write, live in La and write and make short films. and more..

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