Street Roots • June 1 -7, 2018
Street Poetry
Love is Complicated
Norway
by Vendor M.
by Avendor
You ask what it is I feel within, I search for words to assist
But I feel none to help me begin. I guess love is
Just complicated. Love is complicated and now
I m coming around to a better communication
You take off and run and now by doing
This to me my heart feels really strong
I found that you were my heart’s desire
It was only you I found that quenched
My burning fire. I thought I wanted “A” but “A” was me,
And mixed up with “B” and “B” was to be
With you. Then “C” now “A” is left upset and
Lonely because you up and left me
This is why to me I think love is complicated.
Love is complicated. Live
And love your life even when love is complicated.
Ocean Dream
by Maddy Brown-Clark
Frothy tides roll in
Caressing my feet so bare
As I stare out I can tread
Before I sink into the briny depths
And swim for the nearest
Seal-inhabited rock
.
Will they welcome me
Or cry out and slide into the sea?
Or .will they chase me back
To the churning water
That has begun to crash against the rock?
I will turn against the tide
And swim to shore
Back to my ocean dream once more.
— -—
-----------------
Did you serve in-the
Armed Forces
experiencing
or at risk of
and are
becoming
homeless?
Transition
Projects
Please call 855.425.5544
or visit 650 NW Irving Street
I’ll meet you on the harbor bench
far from the ravages of time
the spray of the sea will be carried in the wind
and will dampen your coat as were lost in time.
I’ll fumble in my pocket
for a flask of strong drink
and we’ll tell the somber tales
of our lives on the brink.
And I’ll exult remotely
in your beautiful presence
which has haunted me over the years
during your storied absence.
And you can lean your head on my shoulder
so I can smell your hair
and my mind can record a portrait
of your ashen stare.
As an albatross perches
on the iron post
and we’re marked for eternity
by the heavenly host
Just a boy and a girl
at half mast by the bay
stretching out our bones
in ancient Norway.
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