A Conversation and an observation

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.

Reviews

[...]

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.

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Powerful poem! Had an awesome flow, and it is so true how some look down on the homeless, and when they see us they might not see anything special either.

[Maya Storm]

duality, could be any of us... I like, I like.

[Rene Velez]

I have seen many of mentally disturbed homeless people in the streets of New York...the system has failed them, and most have a tale that is unbelievable. nevr judge a book by it's cover...I enjoyed this...

[Helpless]

very intense ending. nice work!

[ImagineItAll]

This was great! I love reading both perspectives. It takes a lot of consideration and patience to understand and get into the minds of two different people.

[Cherrie]

Great use of dark (tongue-n-cheek) humor cheek

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

You have penned the reality of the fact that in a split second we could be that person, we could be homeless and insane. We can find ourselves with everything and then nothing, including our own sanity. Well done.

[Daytonight]

Wow! What a very interesting write this is. I like the way you dealt with both characters. Keep on penning.

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

here the scales are even~ you did a wonderful inerpratative job of the seen and unseen~ the enigmatic quality really fulfills the intent with those last two lines that curve out of left field with a solid delivery~

[November Gold]

So sad, and such a picture it paints of internal musings and struggles, the volumes we say without ever speaking out loud as we go through our day to day.