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The old man in the doorway

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The following poem was inspired by my friend Abdul's wonderful recent poem...

"Prayer for the safety of the old man"


The Old Man in the doorway 


I was that old man who stood at the door

When people passed by they would look at the floor

Or maybe the ceiling to avert their gaze

Less to make eye contact would cause them malaise  


As if like a leper, contagious was...

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BlindsidedCovid- 19HomelessInspired by AbdulPo

A Heroes Hero

Turn not a blind eye 

to the homeless heroes 

among us. 


Give a voice to the 

desperate and downtrodden. 


Acknowledge their somber silence,

lend a helping hand.


Stand up, be counted. 

It’s about more than solos 

in the end. 



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no place to run when i needed to go

no one to call when i didnt have a home

peo0ple didnt come near me; fear of the unknown

wondered why there was no love

why it was so hard, was i treated so rough

the serpent came to me, gave me the forbidden

with my pain i took it like eve, it changed how i was living

kept trying to make it though, grew up fast life as a kid i never knew


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Homeless Curse

Recently I took a trip to Cardiff and was shocked by the level of homelessness in the city. It’s there but for the grace of god for all of us. I feel we ignore this. Having lost my job after a stroke, I was lucky to have insurance and a pension, if not then I may well have been left homeless. We never know what cards we will be dealt. Next time don’t just turn a cheek.


Next time we turn aw...

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Raising The Standards (With Banners Held High) [MUSIC VERSION]

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Raising The Standards (With Banners Held High) [MUSIC VERSION]


You said that you wanted a land fit for heroes,

a place to call home that they’d show off with pride

but somewhere along the way you forgot

the reasons they fought and the reasons they died.


They thought they were fighting for honour and justice,

suppressing the tyrants and saving our land -

but returned ...

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anthembroken promisesfestivalhomelessmining communitysocialist valuessoldierswakefieldwith banners held high

double standards

you give money to patreons
and gofundme
cos the content looks neat
but won't bat an eyelid
to the homeless dying on the street

take a photo with them
do it for a couple of likes
meanwhile when winter comes around
they're outside dying on anti-homeless spikes

this is a raising epidemic
doesn't it make you feel sad
that could be your brother

as the rich get richer

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homelesspunk poetryrealization

street life

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  Sharp pains  like blades numb the nerves Even numbness hurts Vigorously shaking hypothermia Shaking out my soul Drilling deep..deeper the hole No energy to strive To be unfortunate is to survive Nothing to eat..No desire to eat Unable to stand..cant feel my feet January blizzard just got real Dreaming of jail best way is to steal THIS WASN'T ME never have I stole Crime ...

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Cha-Chi Legacy

I inhale the tears 
welling up in my eyes.
Feeling like I don't have 
the right to cry for 

letting so much time go by
without saying hi,
how are you doing, 
what's new in your life?

I "kept in touch" 
watching your 
on social media, 

after a 

providing water 
and food for 
people who didn't 
know your name.

I was proud of you,

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connectiondeathfamilyhomelesslegacylifelovesocial mediatimevolunteer

To late she cried

Too late she cried


Sitting in Starbucks doorway

After the lights are all turned out

The demons are surly coming

I can hear them scream and shout


It is for me the sirens call

Flashing blue and white

Piercing though the darkness

Blindingly bright white


Flowing down the sidewalk

My life’s blood ebbs away

In the morning another statistic

Is all the p...

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abandonmenthomelessmonster cruelty abuse sadness childhoodregret


The peasants have gatecrashed the reception

And made a beeline for the buffet plates,

The guests are appalled

Saying “Let’s get them hauled

To the dungeons before it’s too late”.


There’s a tramp hiding under the table,

A pheasant leg clamped in his teeth.

He’ll gnaw to the bone

While the table guests groan

About the smell that wafts up from beneath.


There’s ...

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harryhomelesshomelessnessmeghanprinceroyal wedding

The Victim

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The Victim

I’ll not cry for the fear of dying but I’ll shed a tear for all the things I will never know. The grand wormwood ran through the cracks of my broken glass and I could not look away, I watched them slowly put the needle back under the straw bed, in an instant rage the filthy ragged wool blanket was in the air, like a fool I could not look away.  The smell of Absinthe filled the little...

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Homeless by the lovely Vienna

There were people In parks And malls and jails On street corners Standing beside a bus sign People that I didn’t know, How to help, as I watched them And very often witnessed Their issues Problems Public and private On full display, Barked like dogs who didn’t Play well with others and were On leashes too long Collars worn and tearing But still restricting The people, Their dogs, One in the same I...

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a lookdescriptionfree versehomelessPoetry


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Just imagine

Lying in a crib of straw

Staring at a star

Hanging over the barn

That whistles

With the soughing wind

Prizing at the flimsy wood

That keeps the night at bay


Just imagine

Your future laid before you

In pre-ordained days

That smell of blood and betrayal

The multi-paternal conundrum

That plays upon your mind

As you carve wood


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christmashomelessreligious hypocracy

Pavement Cafe

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I’ve been sitting here awhile 

My cup is empty 

No matter, I like watching human traffic

Foreign students chatter by

Her!  She passes every day

Fresh long hair, a breezy skirt, so beautiful

The picture of my love when I promised her the universe

Now there’s a young man with determination in his stride

His tie flapping across his chest; his briefcase full of ambition

I re...

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The dog who died

A dog died on the streets today
A well bred dog with pedigree
His coat was riddled with fleas and lice 
And his stomach was empty.
He would never bark or snap or crack.
Some would offer him food or treats
And some say he died of sadness and grief
A man died on the streets today 
One less dog to think of 
some were heard to say
On his passing away. 

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This Is England

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This Is England


the empty cardboard

coffee cup groans with hunger

eyes to eyes to anything

that isn’t eyes

clothes that itch with dirt

the taste of yesterdays soup

settles against teeth


sleep is the enemy

dulling your hopes of escape

if the spiteful arrive

with mean intentions

and brown leather boots


head bowed against the world

not looking ...

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despairhomelesshomeless violencehomelessnesslife on street

Resolution #9

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Resolution #9

A cascade of sparks
exploding in the blackness
of a revellers sky
like bright tears.

Crying for the homeless
sat where the light
doesn’t fall,
under archways,
behind garages,
in cardboard boxes.

Damp and cold
while a flaming wheel
greets the crescent moon
as it circles.
A metaphor
of the turning year.

Out with the old and needy,
in with the bright young thin...

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celebrationshave & have notshomelessnew yearresolutionwaste of money

Textures of shame

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Glass sides tip away the hope of perception and cameras flash away any hint of reflection
at this hub of metal minds and stiff bodies.

This soft grey raven digs for existence among the steel nest of discardment.
Every sip a taste of us, our residue his everything.

Around me, gold fingered bird-watchers with their fogged up binoculors,
tasting their uncessary glory.
Molten pride down th...

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was it out there
that I became a ghost?

I may be an unreliable witness
the constant stress does that to you
the days spent outside, unprotected
with a local population
that won’t look you in the eye
or when they do
they have the look of hate
that you are even there at all

if only the locals were less hostile
to my cause
if only I could count on my military team
to back ...

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caterpillars caterpillars
everywhere you look
creeping into corners
no one gives a fuck
peering from the darkness
in the shelter of a door
praying for forgiveness
hungry cold and poor

caterpillars caterpillars
down upon their luck
pleading from their makeshift beds
no one gives a fuck
pressing against cold brick
crawling on the floor
crying for their past lives

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caterpillardeath on streetshomelesspoorredemptionsheltersleeping bags

Homeless Fly

I'm a homeless fly

destined to die

destitute on the sidewalk.


No cakes for me on the kitchen side,

no conspiring against humans with my bride.

Left jilted by the absence of bathroom jihad.


Everyone speaks of the house fly,

they speak of it as a pest.

But all I have is a piss-stained alleyway

to truly call my nest.


I subsist on sick ...

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Ragged Man

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man on the street, I

turn my eyes so I will not meet.


No, but see my possible life.

Fear in my heart, is all hope


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Turn eyes!

Pretend I'm not here!

Do not look at me with disgust.


is not the reason I am here.

Some a job's loss to be in

my shoes.


This is a more cameo style poem.

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despairhomelesspeople's reaction

Pretty Homeless

Pretty homeless.
Her caramel complexion told not the stories she did not tell,
Nor did I ask.

No bucked teeth,
No smack-banged jitters
mixed with incoherent stutters...
but beauty in the most surprising of places.

Piccadilly Gardens on a sunny Mancunian afternoon
the busy city stands in shock
at the thought that anything can happen.

Without the badge such beauty w...

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Shiva, found in a Liverpool alleyway

Traipsing through an alley,
between bins of shit and ash
you saw him sat in a lotus repose.

You knew it was him because
of his locks: tangled and ancient.
A sadhu unknowing of any observers.

You could see the great Ganges,
squalid and yellow, trickle then pour
from the leg of his trousers.

Like the sage he was,
the dishevelled ascetic, misplaced
in his concrete wilderness,


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