Phoenix in the Tenderloin
By Claire J. Baker on We wish fair flight for anyone rising from hellish ashes there and here.Since we escaped, it’s not surprisingwe wish wide wings
Street Spirit poetry
Birds of a Feather (in homage to homeless)
By Claire J. Baker on Some sparrows preferdowntown streets to parksor neighborhood yards. They peck at grit trodden byrich & poor, bankers & poets,professors &
Footsteps in the Rain
By Claire J. Baker on We’ve hurried pastthe huddled homeless heaped like potato sacks along city sidewalks. We never envisioned a saintor savior might sleep under plastic over
No Stars in the Sky
By Perry Terrell on We can lay down on our backsin the grassand look for starsto wish uponwe can wish for world peaceto abolishhatredprejudicepovertyhomelessnesschild
A Migrant Worker’s day Ends
By Claire J. Baker on After picking 50 boxesof grapes, hands stung &bleeding, she restsagainst a haystack,inhales in unison with cows. sheep, a curled dog.Nestled in
A Thin Line to Homelessness
By Perry Terrell on Avoiding homelessness Is a jobNo one should haveBecause it is serious and inhumane hard workHowever, I amFacing living on the streetsAnd
Coffee Truce
By Claire J. Baker on Imagine a truce calledover made-to-order coffee—mean words surrenderingto flags of coffee fragrance,dreamy humidity of steam.Envision conflicts re-placed by slurping sounds,the
Writers
By Perry Terrell on Sooner or later Writer’s need a real audience Writers need someoneTo listen To what they have written Unless it is a diary or a
Lemon Wedge
By Claire J. Baker on She sips gingerlyfrom the cup of“try again,”acknowledgeslife’s lemon wedgebitter-brighton teacup’s rim.She tells us the wedgeis a yellow sailon her spunky
Sonoma County
By Elias Gutierrez on I’ve seen your pretty postcards,Your fancy cheeses,That world-renowned wine.I’ve seen your pretty town squares,Expensive resorts and your small-town livingBig house
Which Road Do We Take
In two weeks/ the amount the world spends/ on weapons to kill/ every man woman and child/ in just two short weeks/ that money would feed/ every soul upon the earth/ no one would ever be/ hungry or in need again/ just two short weeks folks
The Comfortable and the Cold
We still have the highest/ percentage of homeless/ people per population/of any city in the nation/ It's 2013 and still / the drained and pained/ unhoused battalions/ of brokenhearted shopping cart/ soldiers come and go