life is so damn hard
freshwater requires walking
does what she has to
Tag: poverty
Lisa Tomey
Memories Sweet Taste
Taste the memories
Harvests after sweat and spade
Earth has its own soul
This Thing About Trees
leaves tangle in her hair
from aging trees
roots locked
in shared vibrations
spring brings growth
rings stretch the girth
age is crowned with colors
changing in time
sangria scented lips
tease in her shade
youth finds folly
yet, the wisdom
of the sage
overseer
prevails
there is no way for youth
to escape the elder court
its shadows and arms
hold all there is to know
about the beating
of the drum
of the heart
There Was A Night in Raleigh
Twinkling little lights
captured my attention
stars about the night
A celebration
clinking glasses
over charcuterie
I walked to the window
once formalities are done
I gaze downward
My eyes are drawn
to the thrift shop
on the corner
Bright lights spill
to the sidewalk
an elder struts his girth
Another day of gratitude
to make a scuff and repast
to take the flavors in
And we haven’t had dessert
but the man wrapped
in the blue blanket
sleeping on the bench
warmed to a cotton-filled dream
which was just enough to forget
the planets did not align
for him or his kind
Sprinkle, twinkle
make a fire in the barrel
warm the hearts
of humanity
Dessert is best served
to those who deserve
the sweetness
let him have mine
An Uncertain Life
he cuts through the night
with the sharpest knife he finds
from his busy mind
fast pacing his life
he stumbled over leaf piles
not noting the signs
waiting for the train
a kitten rubs against him
he shoos her away
coffee and bagel
riding the speed track subway
ready to get off
panhandler plays harp
he calls his job to check-in
stops dead in his tracks
what he heard is how
this day ends all his ventures
now he’s on his own
he sits on a bench
full of angst stares at his cell
not sure what to do
he stands up and looks
at all that surrounds him now
could he be the man
with harmonica
maybe the bagel schmear guy
how about those leaves
blowing, floating, gone
they’re no longer in his path
lost at the turning
~~~
Lisa Tomey is a poet, writer, & publisher from Raleigh, NC. She is an editor for Fine Lines and manager of the poetry circle of the Garden of Neuro Institute. Follow her on ProlificPulse.blog & ProlificPulse.com. Lisa was featured twice on The Short of It – May 2020 and October 2020. Her piece, Silence, featured in the first anthology – The Sound of Brilliance, and was nominated for the Pushcart Prize.
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Satisdiction
Their anagapesis for him was evident.
What These Eyes Have Seen
“A three-week trip to India was a real shock to me. This country left a double impression in my soul. On the one hand, this is a magical fairy tale, motley and bright, and on the other, beggarly neighborhoods, areas and entire cities, on the streets of which hundreds of thousands of homeless people live. Looking at the faces of these people, I decided to make a series of portraits in order to shed true light on how the majority of the population of India lives. Most of the people I shot never saw a camera in their life, and what was their surprise when they saw their portrait on the displays. Such sincere delight, I have not met for a long time … Their faces are illuminated by a smile, eyes glowing with happiness, all this and much more should serve as an example for modern society. After all, no matter what, people living in poverty are still able to enjoy the little things … “– tells traveler photographer Roberto Pazzi (Roberto Pazzi).
she lived a hard life
weathered and yet beautiful
soul etched in her skin
Life’s Patterns
Existing as a human, a random outcome when DNA perhaps combines joyously stacks the odds against us right from the beginning. We’re rather frail and vulnerable, but with care, nurture, and hopefully love, or maybe not, we manage to survive and even sometimes thrive despite what life can throw our way. The disasters we encounter – natural or otherwise – can be life-altering. There’s nothing more devastating than having to fight life’s indiscriminate catastrophes. Dealing with and even overcoming some of these moments can be excruciating. It is a “Survival of the fittest” world, just as Darwin described it. The physical world endures merely because of having the strength to survive.
When I look at this capitalistic society, it primarily operates the same way. The financially fittest are a class unto themselves. “Here’s a wild statistic: The 26 richest people on earth in 2018 had the same net worth as the poorest half of the world’s population, some 3.8 billion people.” It’s only a small top tier of obnoxiously wealthy individuals whose wealth sets them apart from most humans. Financial woes will probably never be an issue for them unless they do something so heinous that it topples their kingdom. Some individuals repeat that mantra with a vengeance. And some of those, survive in such a fashion that is a detriment to others — shame on them. Being rich, even ultra-hoarding rich, is not the problem, hurting others to remain rich is. And that’s the point. They think that only they should survive.
It is sad to see so many people perish because the arrogant don’t care. Watching those far removed actively engaged in the destruction of other’s lives for their gain seems monstrous to me. How do they sleep at night?
A fair amount of my life is over, and statistically, I might see about another 20 years. I hope that wealth inequality in this world sees a tremendous change before my demise. There is no reason in this universe that there should be starving children, homeless people, or otherwise destitute individuals.
We should be taking care of each other.
Guilty Ease
sleeping in comfort
nightmares invade my slumber
the inequity
feeling guilt and shame
always privilege winning
when will justice come
they need love and food
being fair, doing right things
society heals
Despair
at the end of a rope
that society designed
couldn’t match the requirements
which it demands
laying in wait for a handout
that won’t cover rehabilitation
suffering on the streets
in garb not fit for a king
we allow this despair
watch it unfold
do nothing to stop it
and look appalled at the sight
of a human laying
sacrificed for the rest
walking on by
ignoring his despair
shame on a society which allows this to exist
I Write Her 