Free In A Few Words by Jan Vivian

STREET LIFE
    (or, In Another World)
    In the grey dawn of everyday a singular man makes his way.
    Alley dogs bark.
    ‘Not again’, comfortably cocooned residents remark
    As the rubbish bins rattle, each day’s keep is a battle, of senses and quick wits,
    For to him the hostel’s beyond bounds for he and his hound like the sounds
    Of the street, where new companions they meet and gruff greetings they utter
    As each to their own, in bags, worthless clutter they carry, they seldom tarry,
    Too long, to consider their lives’ stock, even if many have been in the dock…
    And, for him, a reputation’s sunk low so another life is configured, somehow,
    On the street, where he may seem free as the air but he’s burdened by care
    For disparate loved ones, ambivalent have somes, purposefully unaware
    Of their man’s dishevelled habit, best suited to rural byways and ancient drove ways
    That, at other times he wondrously roams and under sylvan arches he makes up a home.
    But now, with many un-named others, a motley band of sisters and brothers,
    He gathers and he sleeps but they, unlike him, society don’t eschew and a wilder life pursue
    Even if graceless tabloids finally relented, false tales grudgingly recanted until finally,
    They even said ‘sorry’...
    But, Brian…the stories about you, they weren’t so easy to undo,
    And so, a great life was lost at great human cost, but did they care? No…
    A blip in circulation covered the waste of a hard-earned reputation. A normal life came to a stop
    Before, from your own hearth you were hounded by persistent tales, gossip, all of it unfounded
    As, behind hands, they still spoke of unseemly behaviour…not the wont of a respected teacher,
    The tone of the words reminded you of some braying errant preacher…
    Enough! Much has been written and said, a family’s gone; now a life is undone.
    Deep down, his spirit flares on; his mind lives and he strives to forgive
    Another’s unworthy slight, the blank indifference shown to his prevailing plight
    As, with his faithful bitch, Fleck, the city’s streets he now treks
    She’s companionable and dutiful, calmer now less emotional…
    She’s like him, cast off, by society pushed out and acceptance by peers still in doubt,
    But together, and for him Shakespeare’s book of plays, they fill many a wet lonely day as
    A street’s place they find, many greet and money's capped, not beggared for they still see the light
    Of each God given day and tenaciously cling to man and beasts’ well-trodden ways
    Of love, mutual trust and forgiveness, to which their chosen God daily bears witness.
    Jan Vivian©

I’M A MISER
    I’m a miser…
    I’ve turned off the radio,
    I no longer care what’s in print,
    They feed a mood of despondency,
    Should I live or simply exist?
    The sun still comes up
    And,
    I can still take a breath.
    At home,
    I care for those around me,
    While out there
    Politicians pledge all my money,
    Or,
    They devalue what I have left.
    And yet,
    Deep down inside me,
    I am not bereft.
    For, what you can’t see
    I count as my wealth.
    Jan Vivian©

‘Post Card to Yolanda’

    Angel
    Finally, I find myself in a place called Reconciled. Calm can be found here, usually, after a turbulent journey through Suddenly, Trauma, Disbelief and a wasteland known as Aftermath. On my travels I rested, in Family and a haven known as Deep Affection. It will be easier in time to revisit from afar Memory, and experience anew a comforting location that draws me back, compulsively. I can relive the past by simply looking at a picture - of us. A silver thread binds me to you waiting at a portal, until I reach Terminus – and Reunion.

    Your brother, Jan
    Jan Vivian©