~ Poems on Poverty & the Wealthy~

Bonnie Flach
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Sep 9, 2018 · 5 min read

~ Harbor Night Songs ~

bjf ©

On jasmine nights

the homeless play

heart’s guitar

at sea’s margin

in harbor cities

lost in time

all sad sufferings

are left in day

but amongst dream’s shadows

singing waters

serenaded her night songs

touching souls

along her bays

silent streets

bjf ©

published The Poetic Bond TPB

~Homeless refugees
.
Windows

of water

Doors

of flame

Roofs

of air

Man’s wars

to

blame

bjf ©

~ Where Fantasy Dwells ~

bjf © king’s ring

Desperate souls wade through

strange streets, hardened citizens,

savage transients & melancholy poets

who imagine ghetto fire escapes as palatial

staircases and the manhole cover a circular Persian rug

the servant sets for his monarch’s throne, a place of honor

and why not, when reality is hell, here

the mind can be king, where fantasy dwells ~ bjf © ~

~ Sleeping Jamaican man ~ (non-

fiction) —
bjf ©

He was slumbering propped up against a coconut tree at Kapiolani

Park near to me.

His face was sweet & peaceful, content in his dream & I had to
admit, for a moment I wanted to be in it.

When he awoke he showed me his display of the trinkets he made

out of macrame’

I bought a little bracelet then as in Hawaii, hawaiians would say

we “talked story” that day.

He said he missed his family in Jamaica, “but people day don’t

understand, just coz I’m also from an island, don’t mean I can’t be
sad, man”

How he got to Hawaii was not my business or how he became

homeless that was not my place. Jesus was homeless (no room at
the Inn) it’s no disgrace.

He thanked me for the conversation & purchase, I thanked him for

his story & his time

The Lord always has a way of leading me to people who are kind

~ bonnie j. flach ©
sleeping jamaican — bjf ©

~ It’s not my Place ~

bjf ©

Beggar woman carried a wilted sunflower & I suppose in her eyes

the bloom was still golden
& it’s stem & leaves bright green, it does not matter if I do not
understand what it means. It’s not my place to question or annoy,
it is everyone’s right to have that which brings one joy! ~ bjf ©

- Poverty Hides -
bjf ©

poverty hides

in alleyways behind massive city mansions, unseen by those who

refuse to open their eyes

poverty crawls at a snails pace with depression’s lead weight on

potholed asphalt is where the hungry one’s sad souls reside

unseen by those who refuse to open their eyes, in alleyways behind

massive city mansions

poverty hides

bjf ©

~ Poverty ~
bjf ©

Sleep-heavy, breath of air rose and fell from lungs, below a

courageous breast and from a fair-haired angelic face, as throne
bright morning, love beamed. Her imagination flowed swift, as
silent ships above the mermaids sea. Sweet as dancing
blossoms and tender as Spring’s green shoots she dreamed. The
visions brought her to a land of thickets where she carefully crept
to watch deer leap, but that was only in sleep. She woke from the
icy air that blew through a broken window, so she walked across
the warehouse’s concrete floor & stuffed another dirty T-shirt
between the gaps. She returned to the sleeping bag, checking first
for rats, then drifted. The only positive thing about high fevers
were hallucinations, which took her away from reality, for her only
happy place was — Sleep-heavy, breath of air rose and fell from
lungs below a courageous breast and from a fair-haired angelic
face, as throne bright morning, love beamed. ~ bonnie j. flach ©

~ Charleston 1920 ~ Salty dog please,

make that two ~
bjf ©

Suave & Elegant ducked into the speakeasy, cloaked in the aroma
of Cuban cigars, then worked their way up to the ornate bar and
blended into a bustling crowd, dripping with money & glimmering
in the glitz of fabulous jewelry — heirlooms, as the ladies
practically bathed in their French perfumes.

Meanwhile the men discussed how well they did at the track &
traded stories on how they got their battles scars, while they drank
the finest champagne and indulged in the best caviar. “Not sure
what I’ll do” exclaimed Elegant “when Prohibition ends?” “Why is
that” replied Suave. “Well” said Elegant, “I’ll miss our naughty
friends.” “Yes, yes”, said Sauve, “agree, when it’s no longer illegal,
when that’s all done, there goes all the fun!” — bjf ©

Bel Air, Calif 1920 Liar steals the

Ladies (humor)
bjf ©

A group of fine swanky ladies sashayed & shimmied

down the sidewalk making their hips go this way and
that, clad in their slinky silk slip dresses as the men
zoomed in on them with binocular eyes and slaphappy
grins on their faces. There was a rawboned young man
who sat on the street curb and gave them a pitiful
“mydogjustdied” kind of look and that did the trick. Yes,
they came over, put their arms ‘round him and looked
back at him with those sweet “ah what’s the matter?”
eyes. Well, he told them a good story and what a story it
was, with no truth in it and it received a lot of “oh my’s”
and “dear me’s” as he walked off with all of them. Well,
don’t that beat all, I hate to see what he’ll look like when
they find out it was all lies. I guess when they get after
him, he’ll have a sincerely sad face, only this time it will
be a:

“mydogjustdiedandIhadtoburyhimallbymyself” look. ~
bjf © : — )
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WRITTEN BY

Bonnie Flach
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Photographer, Poet, Pianist, Artist & Environmentalist — San Diego,
Calif. — http://www.oceanartistssociety.org — nickname Bon

The Story Hall

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A gathering place for stories to be told, read and appreciated.

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