And all alone, the invisible queen grew from a forgotten little girl into a lovely young woman- who, to the towns people, was only a myth. She spent her days caring for her gardens, dancing alone in the ballroom and painting pictures of a family she never knew. She had the entire castle to herself, but all the same, the invisible queen couldn’t help but feel homeless.
“We’re homeless, Tessa, remember? It’s not like we have somewhere else to go.”
“I didn’t mean to-”
“Didn’t mean to what? Insult me? Us? This isn’t what we want out of life, ya know? It’s just what we’ve got.” I said. “We SURVIVE.”
“Back off, Kellan.” Tanner said, stepping forward and raising a hand to rest on Tessa’s shoulder.
“Tanner, shut up. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.” I snarled.
He opened his mouth to reply but Tessa cut him off. “No, she’s right Tanner. This is between us. And I’m sorry, Kellan. I wasn’t thinking.”
Home for me is a starry sky, a pair of mud boots and a good playlist banging in my ears. He was home for me as well. Because I like people who smile when it’s raining. Like him. He smiled at thunderstorms. I loved him, he loved someone else. She doesn’t even care that he smiles when it’s raining or that he runs his hands through his hair at just the right time or that he always smells of laundry detergent and fresh cut grass. She doesn’t care but for me, it’s everything.
If you do’t work hard you’ll be homeless. This is a common saying we hear as a child. but what is a home? It doesn’t have to be several walls with a roof on top. You can have a home where ever you have people who care about you and like you the way you are.
I live in a house. I am luckier than most, yes.
Yet I don’t belong, not here, not in my body or with anyone. Perhaps those who are homeless might eventually find somewhere to dwell, but others will forever be searching.
Homeless… Such a bleak grey word. its an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach, the deep dark gnawing feeling. The failure you experience when you cant provide, when you can survive. Its a mean, cruel lesson many people have to learn, one that many people don’t survive.
The word “homeless” didn’t mean the same anymore. She felt at home in the forest of her
new comrades…a kind, and conscious circle of dedicated preservers of the blue flame creed.
Thinking and thinking should I reply? do I need to listen to what could just be something contrived? all so you can turn it round and make me fell like I made you homeless all over again!
so many homeless in this world. i knew God would give me a word like this. i was just pondering adoption and soup kitchens and He gives me this. i want to do something for God in this world, but i feel like i need a nod in the right direction. thank you Lord.
The icy wind slapped across my face as I blinked my eyes open from my mid afternoon nap. The air was damp from the rain a few hours ago, of which my flattened cardboard box hadn’t faired so well in. A man strolled past with a stern look on his face and clutching an iphone close to his ear. He sprinkled a few pound coins in my hat that laid bedraggled in front of me and continued to walk on, I beamed a smile at his back and thought to myself “At least that’ll buy me a sandwich for the day.”
The homeless man stood on the street corner as people shoved passed each other. Some would drop a few coins, but most just passed on. This is human kind. This is the new form of natural selection.
there’s a lot of homelless people, they dont have a home, nao têm com quem partilhar os penos momentos da vida . as vezes por escolha propria , porque se sentem mais livres , porque viver nas ras lhe da liberdade . outros crescem ja na rua e nao encontram a motiivaçao nem a oportunidade para sairem desta situaçao . .
When someone without a home is alone. Usually due to some form of hardness that has reviously happened in their life. A lot of people who are homeless suffer from mental illness. When I was about 7 i found a dime and gave it to a homeless man because i felt bad for him. but you shouldn’t feel bad. They’re doing all they can and then it’s destiny for the rest of the way.
This is what haunts me. Living out of my car, unable to get a job because I have no residential address. Trying to beg for food from all my relatives. . .
Desolate and alone wondering across this barren earth. No place to call myiown, no place to belong. No one to care for me and no one that I care for. Why bother to go one in this life? May as well lie on the frozen snow and sink into eternal nothingness!
You should never judge anyone. Until you have been homeless, you will not really know what it is like to appreciate the simple things in life, and to be thankful for what you truly have.
No food, no clothes, no bed, no friends. Just the cold air and my coat. Rainy days are the worst nobody looks then all too busy trying to get home to their dry homes. Lucky. It’s not my fault I’m out here begging for any money I can get.
She is 63, slightly overweight, average height and drives a Jeep Liberty. Although her brown hair is graying at the roots, her face remains nearly unlined and she does not even closely resemble her age. Her clothes appear to be chosen for comfort and function, rather than style. Her smile is engaging and she pauses to greet everyone she comes in contact with. One would never know she is homeless and desperate. Falling through the cracks of society. Wanting to work and pay her own way, but the system does not have a place for her. Trying to survive on her meager social security and waiting. Waiting for a job. Waiting for her name to come up on low income housing. Waiting to win Publishers Clearing House. Waiting… Always waiting for something.
she was homeless and alone but never felt more alive. she dance in the moon light and worked on her mind, she knew she could go back but the decision was hers and hers alone. tonight the stars were her friends and family.
So it was him. Just passing by to another place to settle for a day or two and then continue on his life-time journey. Living his dream. Sometimes it’s not so bad if you’re “homeless”. His home was the Earth. In this case… He was really “homemore”.
The homeless living on the street
The homeless living far away from
anyone, they know
Homeless, lost is such a haunting word
They get lost in the pavement
We look away from them.
In shame.
Some live there by choice.
Some never see the way out.
We are all the same. Looking
for a place of our own.
I think it’s saad that homeless people are alone. They legit smelter have no one caring for tem, ever. It’s like so lonely in their world, but who would even try helping them? We say we will but lost times we are often afraid of tem, as if they’re monsters. They’re humans, like us. They shouldn’t be treated different. But how do we change society’s view and opinions of them? It’s not easy.
I always feel really bad whenever I walk past homeless people. Who knows what went wrong in their lives? Even if they were the ones who screwed up, I think that being without a home is quite possibly one of the worst possible things to have to go through. And i have so much respect for street musicians who have talent, but just lack the opportunities to succeed..
I’ve worked for the homeless, well i say worked for them, in actuality, they worked for me. It was a design project where i heartlessly tried to make an intervention that would ‘save’ the unsaveable by making a place, a home, a sanctuary for them to succeed. Alas, i wish i would do more, but laziness and selfishness prevails and i do little more than stare at the dejected and warn faces that amass on London streets. My contribution to the homeless is little more than a design project, left to rot on paper.
The homeless woman looked worn out, like a plastic bag that had been ripped by howling winds in the streets. She looked at me with pleading eyes that were of a surprising dark green color. How would I feel if I was her? I wondered. I did not know. But then again, I would never know, would I?
Even when inside a house, you can be homeless. Even when a pump’s flooding blood through your chest, you can be heartless. Even when scientists can scoop the gray matter out of your skull like mushroom ice cream, you can be mindless. You can be thoughtless. You can be emotionless. Even when you cry after stepping on a lego. Even when you laugh in your lover’s arms.
Who I am
with no home, well-dressed, books to read and eat the knowledge.
But we have no home, world.
Cradle us, your daughters.
The collegiate horde has left their home.
Who am I
with no home?
A college student.
i see him walking along the street near my house he pushes his grocery cart to and from wereever he goes. gathering up the treads of other peoples lives the scrap and bits left behind.
I am homeless. Homeless means that you don’t have a home and rarely have a family. Being homeless stinks. Why be homeless. Never give up. Pass school like a boss. Be successful. And never slack off. Homelessness can lead you to wonderful yet horrible and tradgic situations. Homeless.
She was stranded on a desert island.
Lost for a thousand years.
When somebody came to the island
She’d shed crocodile tears.
She got kicked out of her house
And the flood kicked her away.
But when she met a person
She pushed them near the bay.
One day she met a cute guy
He looked quite boneless
Sadly she found out
He was homeless
diesem ort fehlt ein zu hause, ich koennte mich niemals hier geborgen fuehlen. genauso gut koennte ich nachtens weiterziehen und des tags schlafen, um zu vermeiden von jugendlichen getreten, angepisst und ausgeraubt zu werden; fall nicht auf den bettruf der stadt hinein, schlag dir lieber die nacht in einer kneipe um die ohren.
The man walked down the deserted alley, his hands trembling as he held them up to his cracked lips to breathe the warmer breath onto them.
At the end of the alley, cars zoomed by at rapid speeds, completely oblivious to the man who stood there, trapped in a desolate world of his own creation. If only he’d known then what he knows now.
A man and his dog sit alone on the pavement. A sign lies beside him. “Lost my house. Please help.” It is poorly written, but it need not matter. No-one reads it anyway. The only looks he receives are pity stares as people tread past where he sits, unwilling to stop.
My friend Conrad lived as a homeless man and it killed him. He believed the cambodia mafia was out to kill him, that he had reached a higher level of consciousness, then he fled Cambodia and became a hobo. Joined the Occupy movement. One day I stopped hearing from him. Then I saw a post on his facebook from his family stating that his body had been fished out of a river.
And all alone, the invisible queen grew from a forgotten little girl into a lovely young woman- who, to the towns people, was only a myth. She spent her days caring for her gardens, dancing alone in the ballroom and painting pictures of a family she never knew. She had the entire castle to herself, but all the same, the invisible queen couldn’t help but feel homeless.
“We’re homeless, Tessa, remember? It’s not like we have somewhere else to go.”
“I didn’t mean to-”
“Didn’t mean to what? Insult me? Us? This isn’t what we want out of life, ya know? It’s just what we’ve got.” I said. “We SURVIVE.”
“Back off, Kellan.” Tanner said, stepping forward and raising a hand to rest on Tessa’s shoulder.
“Tanner, shut up. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.” I snarled.
He opened his mouth to reply but Tessa cut him off. “No, she’s right Tanner. This is between us. And I’m sorry, Kellan. I wasn’t thinking.”
Home for me is a starry sky, a pair of mud boots and a good playlist banging in my ears. He was home for me as well. Because I like people who smile when it’s raining. Like him. He smiled at thunderstorms. I loved him, he loved someone else. She doesn’t even care that he smiles when it’s raining or that he runs his hands through his hair at just the right time or that he always smells of laundry detergent and fresh cut grass. She doesn’t care but for me, it’s everything.
If you do’t work hard you’ll be homeless. This is a common saying we hear as a child. but what is a home? It doesn’t have to be several walls with a roof on top. You can have a home where ever you have people who care about you and like you the way you are.
I live in a house. I am luckier than most, yes.
Yet I don’t belong, not here, not in my body or with anyone. Perhaps those who are homeless might eventually find somewhere to dwell, but others will forever be searching.
paper box
can cardboard hold up long
after thunderstorms?
is there hope in the seeping
through of clouds
made cold?
oh, the torn coat
how lovely you were
on the cast off rack
where i smelled other perfumes
and cried
Homeless… Such a bleak grey word. its an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach, the deep dark gnawing feeling. The failure you experience when you cant provide, when you can survive. Its a mean, cruel lesson many people have to learn, one that many people don’t survive.
The word “homeless” didn’t mean the same anymore. She felt at home in the forest of her
new comrades…a kind, and conscious circle of dedicated preservers of the blue flame creed.
Thinking and thinking should I reply? do I need to listen to what could just be something contrived? all so you can turn it round and make me fell like I made you homeless all over again!
so many homeless in this world. i knew God would give me a word like this. i was just pondering adoption and soup kitchens and He gives me this. i want to do something for God in this world, but i feel like i need a nod in the right direction. thank you Lord.
The icy wind slapped across my face as I blinked my eyes open from my mid afternoon nap. The air was damp from the rain a few hours ago, of which my flattened cardboard box hadn’t faired so well in. A man strolled past with a stern look on his face and clutching an iphone close to his ear. He sprinkled a few pound coins in my hat that laid bedraggled in front of me and continued to walk on, I beamed a smile at his back and thought to myself “At least that’ll buy me a sandwich for the day.”
The homeless man stood on the street corner as people shoved passed each other. Some would drop a few coins, but most just passed on. This is human kind. This is the new form of natural selection.
there’s a lot of homelless people, they dont have a home, nao têm com quem partilhar os penos momentos da vida . as vezes por escolha propria , porque se sentem mais livres , porque viver nas ras lhe da liberdade . outros crescem ja na rua e nao encontram a motiivaçao nem a oportunidade para sairem desta situaçao . .
When someone without a home is alone. Usually due to some form of hardness that has reviously happened in their life. A lot of people who are homeless suffer from mental illness. When I was about 7 i found a dime and gave it to a homeless man because i felt bad for him. but you shouldn’t feel bad. They’re doing all they can and then it’s destiny for the rest of the way.
This is what haunts me. Living out of my car, unable to get a job because I have no residential address. Trying to beg for food from all my relatives. . .
The homeless man paced in front of the realtor’s office. He looked at the sign and back at his pack of belonging.
“We’ll find a home for you. Guaranteed!”
She looked at the man, homeless, left on the street. Grabbing a bill out of her pocket, she hurried over to give it to him, not even looking at it.
Desolate and alone wondering across this barren earth. No place to call myiown, no place to belong. No one to care for me and no one that I care for. Why bother to go one in this life? May as well lie on the frozen snow and sink into eternal nothingness!
You should never judge anyone. Until you have been homeless, you will not really know what it is like to appreciate the simple things in life, and to be thankful for what you truly have.
No food, no clothes, no bed, no friends. Just the cold air and my coat. Rainy days are the worst nobody looks then all too busy trying to get home to their dry homes. Lucky. It’s not my fault I’m out here begging for any money I can get.
She is 63, slightly overweight, average height and drives a Jeep Liberty. Although her brown hair is graying at the roots, her face remains nearly unlined and she does not even closely resemble her age. Her clothes appear to be chosen for comfort and function, rather than style. Her smile is engaging and she pauses to greet everyone she comes in contact with. One would never know she is homeless and desperate. Falling through the cracks of society. Wanting to work and pay her own way, but the system does not have a place for her. Trying to survive on her meager social security and waiting. Waiting for a job. Waiting for her name to come up on low income housing. Waiting to win Publishers Clearing House. Waiting… Always waiting for something.
she was homeless and alone but never felt more alive. she dance in the moon light and worked on her mind, she knew she could go back but the decision was hers and hers alone. tonight the stars were her friends and family.
So it was him. Just passing by to another place to settle for a day or two and then continue on his life-time journey. Living his dream. Sometimes it’s not so bad if you’re “homeless”. His home was the Earth. In this case… He was really “homemore”.
It’s killing you. You’re suicidal. Everybody mocks you. You’re cold at night. You’re hungry at night.
The homeless living on the street
The homeless living far away from
anyone, they know
Homeless, lost is such a haunting word
They get lost in the pavement
We look away from them.
In shame.
Some live there by choice.
Some never see the way out.
We are all the same. Looking
for a place of our own.
I think it’s saad that homeless people are alone. They legit smelter have no one caring for tem, ever. It’s like so lonely in their world, but who would even try helping them? We say we will but lost times we are often afraid of tem, as if they’re monsters. They’re humans, like us. They shouldn’t be treated different. But how do we change society’s view and opinions of them? It’s not easy.
I always feel really bad whenever I walk past homeless people. Who knows what went wrong in their lives? Even if they were the ones who screwed up, I think that being without a home is quite possibly one of the worst possible things to have to go through. And i have so much respect for street musicians who have talent, but just lack the opportunities to succeed..
I’ve worked for the homeless, well i say worked for them, in actuality, they worked for me. It was a design project where i heartlessly tried to make an intervention that would ‘save’ the unsaveable by making a place, a home, a sanctuary for them to succeed. Alas, i wish i would do more, but laziness and selfishness prevails and i do little more than stare at the dejected and warn faces that amass on London streets. My contribution to the homeless is little more than a design project, left to rot on paper.
The homeless woman looked worn out, like a plastic bag that had been ripped by howling winds in the streets. She looked at me with pleading eyes that were of a surprising dark green color. How would I feel if I was her? I wondered. I did not know. But then again, I would never know, would I?
Even when inside a house, you can be homeless. Even when a pump’s flooding blood through your chest, you can be heartless. Even when scientists can scoop the gray matter out of your skull like mushroom ice cream, you can be mindless. You can be thoughtless. You can be emotionless. Even when you cry after stepping on a lego. Even when you laugh in your lover’s arms.
sometimes when i walk from home to work I’m surprised at how many of my neighbors are homeless. yes, my neighbors.
Who I am
with no home, well-dressed, books to read and eat the knowledge.
But we have no home, world.
Cradle us, your daughters.
The collegiate horde has left their home.
Who am I
with no home?
A college student.
i see him walking along the street near my house he pushes his grocery cart to and from wereever he goes. gathering up the treads of other peoples lives the scrap and bits left behind.
I am homeless. Homeless means that you don’t have a home and rarely have a family. Being homeless stinks. Why be homeless. Never give up. Pass school like a boss. Be successful. And never slack off. Homelessness can lead you to wonderful yet horrible and tradgic situations. Homeless.
She was stranded on a desert island.
Lost for a thousand years.
When somebody came to the island
She’d shed crocodile tears.
She got kicked out of her house
And the flood kicked her away.
But when she met a person
She pushed them near the bay.
One day she met a cute guy
He looked quite boneless
Sadly she found out
He was homeless
diesem ort fehlt ein zu hause, ich koennte mich niemals hier geborgen fuehlen. genauso gut koennte ich nachtens weiterziehen und des tags schlafen, um zu vermeiden von jugendlichen getreten, angepisst und ausgeraubt zu werden; fall nicht auf den bettruf der stadt hinein, schlag dir lieber die nacht in einer kneipe um die ohren.
Nowhere to be
My home is the earth and the place I am at
Home is within and without
where we find ourselves again
The man walked down the deserted alley, his hands trembling as he held them up to his cracked lips to breathe the warmer breath onto them.
At the end of the alley, cars zoomed by at rapid speeds, completely oblivious to the man who stood there, trapped in a desolate world of his own creation. If only he’d known then what he knows now.
A man and his dog sit alone on the pavement. A sign lies beside him. “Lost my house. Please help.” It is poorly written, but it need not matter. No-one reads it anyway. The only looks he receives are pity stares as people tread past where he sits, unwilling to stop.
My friend Conrad lived as a homeless man and it killed him. He believed the cambodia mafia was out to kill him, that he had reached a higher level of consciousness, then he fled Cambodia and became a hobo. Joined the Occupy movement. One day I stopped hearing from him. Then I saw a post on his facebook from his family stating that his body had been fished out of a river.