Black Poetry : The Handkerchief

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by Harry Hyman, Feb 5, 2009.

  1. Harry Hyman

    Harry Hyman Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    The Handkerchief

    I walked down the stairs into the bright city street
    to the store for a brew and a smoke.
    Huddled in a corner of the smashed landscape
    was a rubbled human fragment that was broke.
    He looked like a drab bundle of dirty clothes,
    all torn and shredded at the seams,
    littered with the residue of broken battles and
    cracked glass of shattered dreams.

    He began his dying early through agonizing routes
    of disappointment, disillusion and shame,
    ending up in last place on pavement searching
    for that license tag of fleeting Fame.
    Great men leave marks of their fragmentary existence.
    On the tapestry of his life were blots,
    discolored blemishes he used as yardsticks to measure
    the man he was not.

    With his hand extended, he looked in my eyes
    and asked for any spare change.
    I pulled out some quarters and a handkerchief
    which he took and said "Thanks all the same."
    I said there was Sorcery in the hanky,
    which he viewed all folded and neat.
    And if he mentally rubbed the dark spots of his life,
    he could liberate himself from the streets.
    Cynicism in his eyes heard Truth in my voice.
    A glimmer of Hope did fuse.
    I nodded with assurance and waved goodbye
    saying "Try it ! So, what have you to lose ?"

    Halfway down the block, I turned to see
    his hand rise up in the air.
    That handkerchief rubbing some phantom blot
    engulfed by his captured stare.
    Several days later, I passed that place
    but a new guy sat in his booth
    who said my guy one day stood up heading
    home to his kids in Duluth.
    Then I walked down the block but turned to witness
    something inspiring and rare.
    That new guy was rubbing, with handkerchief in hand,
    some blot in the air with "his" stare.

    A Man can rise from a cellar to a summit
    giving birth to a brand new start,
    with a sprinkle of Belief and a dash of Desire
    and the Magic in the human Heart.

    Namyh
     
  2. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    wow ....can i borrow this hanky this was awesomely tyte HH
     
  3. free2b_me

    free2b_me Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    AS ALWAYS HARRY, YOU PUT OUT SOME EYE OPENING STUFF! THIS WAS ANOTHER GREAT WRITE POET......:spinstar:
     
  4. Harry Hyman

    Harry Hyman Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Rich – Yeah, you can ! I happen to have an extra hanky left and it’s yours. Find a quiet spot and start rubbing those blots. I’ve been rubbing all of mine for a while and I only have 3 left. I’m starting to feel like a caesar salad which is a promissory note that food is on its way. Whoa! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Thanks for the “wow” Rich. Namyh
     
  5. epiphany

    epiphany Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Harry...

    what a wonderfull piece....
    sometimes you wonder what path each homeless soul has walked to
    lead them to their dark place. And the inspiration they would need to lift
    them out of their despair, if one soul would only care.


    epiphany:heart:
     
  6. Harry Hyman

    Harry Hyman Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    free2bme – After rubbing out those blots, he rose up and was heard to shout “I’m free2bme”. I know it made him happy. It made me happy. I hope it makes you happy ‘cause I believe he had you in mind. And that’s some “eye opening stuff”. LOL . Thanks Free. Namyh
     
  7. queentswana

    queentswana Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I can soul-ly relate to this piece, for it's so rewarding that: "One Hand wash the other, and ...both hands wash the face." Yes, if you wash my hand brother...I'm compelled to wash someone else's.
    Awesome piece poet!
     
  8. Harry Hyman

    Harry Hyman Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Epiphany – The human spirit is strange. Isn’t it. It can be behind the 8 ball, down in the pocket, looking up from the darkness then climb out onto the green velvet of the pool table and get back into the game and win. It can be face down in the gutter and look up into the face of God and find itself redeemed, ready now for accomplishment with a resiliency that only needed one helping hand! Makes me glad to be alive and human to reach into Purgatory and pull someone out or hold onto someone and prevent them from falling in because there, but for the grace of God, may go I. Besides, it’s the job we poets signed up for anyway. Thanks Epiphany. Namyh
     
  9. 1poetsought

    1poetsought Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Beautiful Mister, you've done it again.
     
  10. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    A seemingly simple act of kindness can go a long way, you never know what your gesture may hold to someone whose hope is almost gone, it could mean all the differnce in the word. So uplifting Harry, thank you for your words.
     
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