Thursday, November 1, 2007

Homelessness exposed

The dismal acute answer of homelessness victimizes the ones who can no longer wrestle with life defeat; embittering in a homeless lifestyle can arise from so many unperceived reasons. What drives the homeless in the end to walk in solitude and maybe despond in faith could have been born from virtually endless encounters with a myriad of obstacles that eventually become the compass to the world of homelessness.

The cold or extensive heat strikes them out as members, menial in its try, cruel and uncompassionate to the hardship peeling of their suffering skin causing their memories exposed to be painfully dry. Where they end up in the night is a question that surmises luck and invites misery; a corner, a toilet, a train, their eyes roam the world for some love to their cry. Going unnoticeable under a thin blanket covering their squalor and despair, solutions are too expensive to be warmed under their care.

Bare tragedies follow of being hungry and afraid, shelter and a family was the price they were with a tumult forced to have paid; then destruction and dilapidation became an emotionally blatant twin, care and attention swiveled into invisibility leaving them from society unruly trimmed.

Deep loss and danger volunteered to be a new best friend, as their malice experience spells homeless with an unknown end; a sauntering feeling like something is being torn out from underneath their core because trust in people and even themselves might just be gone and so is happiness that now is so inquisitively sore.

Underneath a bright street lamp but their soul and mind cannot see, the cunning sense of no belonging has made blindness soar free, from their baffling empty pockets they are imprisoned from flee, beyond tonight’s dumpster as accommodation is all for they can plea.

Disheartening damage beating to its proper rhythm, its sound evaporating loud in the sky, a homeless young life wishes from their prison they could fly, the anxiety from the cunning darkness of the days and the clear murder of the night ploy, leaves a blood with fear stiff with a preparation to a beaten fight.

Never any support; Protection has long been sold to export, pushing their simple trolley with lifetime collections, struggle has thwarted easiness, drowning under a park bench trying to find sleep layers but the combat of the situation employs them as a beggar. Derision from filth because it is their forever companion, it dirties their light, that from within their inner beauty should glow with expansion. Emptiness as camaraderie with their minds, in having no knowledge of avail for tomorrow; leaves anything, but to revolve in the galaxy with a dizzy twisting sorrow. Homelessness eating at their tender exposed meat where information except of their fears is belligerent at them like a killing treat. A unity of debacles continues to volcano and finding their home in the homeless. A crash with silence though it is the music of stress and tragedy that brusquely overpopulates their distress

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What it is...

I see Life like a rose in the ice... beautiful but with cold settings - There are so many incredible things out there - but we always need to fight and perservere against the hardships too... otherwise the cold will win ... and we will wither away.

My imagination has led me to believe in something called 'Sudan Fairytale' -
The fantasy that My country will one day be independant and proud, never selfsish to provide its people with its needs, give freedom and success to all, be forever committed to achieve a prosperous inhabitance to every Sudanese in their own country-

My eyes fail me and I see the truth which I call - 'Khartoum Heartbreak' - This is a theme running through the blog under the 'Khartoum Heartbreak' Poems and whatever else about Sudan conveying broken down love, poor streets and cut off electricity along with a lot of other decays and problems in Khartoum city Life.

But I love my country and so I have no choice but to merge the Pain and the Love as one.

Faith is my heart and I could never do without it hoping in my prayers that I can be someone better always and that God forgives me as I fall in Mistakes through that frozen path of Life...

Sometimes I feel under control with all the too many emotions that run to colour my days and nights - Books, movies, music, dreams, friends, family, strangers, travel, - reality - the 10 O' Clock news -Most of the time I'm very Lost in trying to understand - whatever happens becomes tangled into writing this confusing memoir -

It's a really odd combination of air - not sure whether it is refreshing or suffocating - stabilising or maddening - But I breathe and
so it is
'Memoirs of a Sudanese breath' as I am 'Lost but under control' -