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on_being_houseless
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becclebee
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i feel so very much alone
stranded here
and waiting
not for a person
but for the future
how can i get the future to come
it could sit down and have coffee and cake
and we could chat like old friends
we could discuss our hopes and dreams
and maybe then the future could tell me where i live
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020515
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blown cherry
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Mind if I sit here?
Only, it seems I'm in the same spot already.
I hope I don't interfere with your aloneness,
unless you'd like me to.
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020515
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jessica fletcher
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i once had no house. we got kicked out because our land-lady wanted someone else to move in. i was eight. i was devastated.
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020515
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sabbie
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'ten sat at a table outside the cafe, the mid-afternoon autumn sun completmenting the chil in the air. she sat with her spiky haired head cradled in her hands, the pitiful remains of two lattes beside her. all that caffine coupled with the fact that her date hadnt shown was making her jittery in an unpleasent way.
she had dressed so carefully, she was wearing her favorite jeans with the funkyarsed coloured stitching down the seams and her outtermost shirt was her new one, mostly forrest green but with sploinks of yellow and some home.made letting across the front, although from the way she sat the lettering was mostly obscured. the waitress came up to her once more, 'ten thought that if she had anymore coffee she'd prolly herk. she ordered an orangejuice instead and went back to looking at her knees. being stood up, she thought miserably, is one of the worst experences possible.
then, a flurry of movement from the corner of her eye.
she looked up.
there, there was thefuture, arrived at last, wearing a bright red silk ball gown split to the hips and showing her tattered oldmansuitpants off underneath. she sat down, plonking down her huge old backpack with the careful gaffataping to keep the items, thoughts and ideals from falling out the holes. thefuture smiled, pushing her sunnies up onto her head where they clacked against her wire and macaroni tiara and 'ten noticed thefuture's new tattoo, a vicious daisy inked into her wrist. 'ten smiled in relief. "i thought you werent comming" she admitted. thefuture grinned. "nyah, i was jsut caught up. look, i bought you a pres." she held up a plastic bag bulging out with clear water. inside was a single, fat, neon green fish. "from my pond" thefuture shrugged in explination. 'ten held the bag in her hands, gently holding it up to peer inside. the fish was busy swimming around and around and around. 'ten thought she knew just how it felt. she looked up to see thefuture watching her carefully.
"you know," she said "its just as much up to you as it is up to me." she grinned, then waved the waitress down shouting "let us eat cake!"
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020515
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Mahayana in Ny
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currently i am attempting to find solace in the very fact that no structure nor any building materials should ever be considered my home, that there are far more precious venues inwhich to consider my home ... my house ... imagine ... if i was my own house id never ever have to worry about being homeless ever again
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020515
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tourist
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The problem is not so much shelter for ones self, It is the logistics of what to do with all the "stuff" we aquire while living. Body and soul stay stuck together with only a little help. But your old photographs , music collections, books, lucky objects, pets,clothing, these sort of things, require almost constant attention.
It was once helpful to me to pare down my possessions to what I could carry in a backpack. Keeping the abillity to start a fire with you is handy at this point. I lived that way for almost a Year, one of the best in my Life.
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020516
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je5icafletcher
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this week i am in texas at my aunt sharon's. i have a house at home, not here. and without it i am lonely
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020713
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misstree
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prowling, hunting the streets in the hope of finding someone whose bed i can sleep in for the night, a friendly face full of sympathy.
reading poetry for money, selling soulflesh for cigarettes.
sitting at the Alley, filled with caffeine and despair.
wishing for a place of my own, a place i can go to without relying on the kindness of others.
i knew that, in my stray cat life, it would be a long time until i could leave my gypsy wagon behind and have a home.
and then the wagon got towed.
and the world crumbled. no house, no home, no earthly posessions except the clothes i was wearing, and a book full of poetry.
the world broke, that day, and i broke with it. and then healed.
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020714
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