Suffering Sojourns of Users - a Poem of the Streets

The addicts are restless, today.
Why, one never can tell,
with the mood swings suffered
from their drugs of choice.
They are either dancing high,
or deeply immersed in paranoia
seeking new places to use
as doors begin closing hard
against their visits by day.

Two were recently behind me
here in the Main Library,
one so tightly wound up
he could not sit still
if his life depended upon it,
while other hunkered over "fixings",
claiming to clean his backpack
but complaining about the "tar"
as he fidgeted in chair.

Others roam around the area,
raging over things as small
as one not loaning lighter
to one seeking his high,
or just mumbling while waiting,
and some get too bold
panhandling only their fellow homeless
for smokes or spare change,
too lazy to "fly" themselves.

They keep trying to wiggle
into conversations and safety packs,
awaiting their chances to poach
a conversation into some rant
about how the cops persecute
them over their bad habits.
The worst are there "shopping",
looking over your gear constantly
for something to quickly steal.

Not sure if I'll survive
with my sanity partially intact
if they keep milling around
seeking to draw me in
to embrace their strange culture
that I find so repulsive
giving me a small insight
as to how others view
my tobacco pipe from afar.

Wish there was a place
where you never need worry
about who ghosts around you,
using others for some concealment
as they do "Their Thing"
in such place often frequented
by kids seeking some joy
amid the books and media
almost as if they're recruiting.

That drive to be high,
is something I don't get.
At least not that way.
I settle for my coffee,
an occasional smoke break taken
when eyes I trust somewhat
can watch my two bags,
which is more, by far,
than these users carry around.

Most spread out about Three,
heading off to buy again,
perhaps cadge a few coins
to fund their strange hazes,
moving with no clean clothes
not caring about their appearance
as pants sag too low
and they pull shirts high,
almost off, just to scratch.

The short respite now here,
I lay this question out.
Where is this Drug War?
The little attempts I see
oft prove merely fool's gold.
During most busts around here
dozens more deals are made
within feet of the cops
busting the few they catch.

But, I cannot stand judge
over those I barely understand,
but only take some precautions
against sudden violence boiling over
or theft of my stuff
as they drift about today
without a discernible time table
for their ebbs and flows,
just sudden, annoying, bothersome sojourns.
5Feruary2014 - Dyfedd Rex, and yes, I'm suffering allergic "itch" issues after the latest. Mild, but annoying and making me cranky.

Better Vibes from Hell's Block - A poem of the streets.

A different rumble echoes now,
up from what I call
Hell's Block on this blog.
Word that a crackdown's begun,
way overdue by most accounts
on the thieves who prey
upon their fellow homeless travelers.

Heard of it just today,
some guys headed down there
to grab dinner at Vinnie's
(Saint Vincent de Paul Center,
for those not knowing slang)
where they saw something rare
volunteers watching who grabs bags.

You see, the spice monkeys,
users of that synthetic dope,
tend to walk off regularly
with bags not theirs rightly
to fund their smoking binges.
So this is an improvement
compared to past open seasons.

Yeah, open season I said.
A happy stealing ground thing,
where they walked off with
any bags not attached firmly
to your back, hand, leg
or other body part  available
to keep your gear safe.

There is still some doubt
if they will keep strong
in this new found resolve
to give us some security
as we take a repast
at their tables, when able,
and betting edges for short.

Still, glad to echo out
a positive vibe and words
from that ten acre land
I no longer even dare
to venture near from fear
of a severe allergic reaction
to the dreaded narcotic fogs.

Hope they keep it up.
14October2013 - Dyfedd Rex

A peek inside my slimy skull to explain why I often have to do rewrites.

Supposedly, letting folks see how my slime wraps around problems while writing is good. Not sure I'm sold on that idea, but what they hey, with the blog on fire this month, I'll let folks take a peak inside the fortress of unbreakable bone called my skull, and try to decipher the events as real or a glimpse into that alternate reality called my thought process.

Today's big dilemma came about from trying to fix a story, and finally understanding the two worst parts of the tale were the Demon/Ghost failed arc and the knife fight. While the knife fight will be easy to fix, that ghost/demon arc, well, it required some thinking.

I'd already determined that demons are not, in my world setting, extra-planar beings from an alternate reality, but from the same layer of the multi-verse, just a different planet. So, how does this change the magic of "summoning" a demon, and its powers?

Yeah, I had to open a bucket of worms in the edit. Stupid. Turned a quick fix into a total rewrite, I bet. The story better improve from it, or I'm so gonna water-board this character.

Okay, so, taking a look at this idea, it seemed dumb, and I initially shelved it. Which left the story fix stalled in a quagmire about as navigable as federal politics during this budget crisis. Trying several other things never felt right, or changed the story too much for it to remain as part of the Anadrakmas mythos I've been crafting up around some older stories and ideas. As the main character, Dzhino, evolves into a character in the Hunts of Scorpio Kenrai (Jinotazu), I refused to just give in to that impulse for breaking him off into his own little world.

So, I reloaded my SimCity4 game, the best thinking tool I have for mindless activity, and sat down to play, which usually gets the slime at least percolating, if not into a roiling boil. Four days into this, and just as I found all my little add-on's for the game, the bubbles floating behind the eyelids began to make sense of the issue.

Looking at the planets, I began to realize I'd already set one of the rules down in the rough idea and early chapters draft of "Crossing of the Shadow". That crossing between the spheres could only occur during narrow windows of closest approach. That let loose the idea that while during the closest approach, the body could cross, but other times, save when something, say the sun, intervened, only the spirit could.  Which was in the story, if poorly executed.

Taking it a bit further, kicking the idea around amid a bout of allergy induced sneezes from black mold (by and far the least miserable of my allergies along with walnut pollen) and some smoking (yes, bad idea during an allergy attack, but as it was post-attack, and used to clear the residual gunk out, tough).more of it gelled. Maybe. Congealed like grease might be a better description.

What if each sphere had its own, astronomically assigned powers, granted to its denizens. Say that the spirit could inhabit a being on the other worlds, but only while in the sky above that body, and only if not blocked by a certain mass of earth or stone? Could the being be from a moon of that sphere, say a lesser servant sphere of the main sphere? How does that affect powers.

And now you see the problem. How to keep all this from spilling out in a rush, inside the story, and yet keep the concept of the original tale, and prevent info dump burnout in the readers. Yeah, I'll have a total rewrite, but the story will be better. And thanks to the gang over on FB's Fantasy Writers group who let me talk it out, gave me some input, and watched it all get slimy in the process without tossing their cookies (I hope).

Or else Dzhino gets water-boarded. And being an assassin won't stop the writer from doing it to him, either.

Ideas for the Giving Season - A Poem of Homelessness and Charity

This is not me begging, but ideas from a real street person as to what might be better, for those leary of giving cash. Which I fully understand. Seen too many packs, jackets and shoes being sold for cash, drugs or a swig from a bottle right after the gift was given myself. You still won't stop it all the way, but these are also things often traded for among us. 

We call it "The Giving Season",
just as you homed folks do.
For us, it starts about now
or a few weeks back really.
Labor Day seems to spark urges
among folks who see us wandering
under heavy loads along these streets.
Don't know what moves their hearts
to open up wallets and bags
holding out things to we Homeless.

The knowledge that Winter is coming
with his nasty snows and cold?
Or that crisp morning's chilly air
that made you start looking quick
for the windshield scraper and rakes?
That blaze of turning tree leaves
whose color highlights our dingy clothes?
I really don't care reasons why,
I just want to thank you
even if those receiving seem rude.

Not all want to give cash,
and I don't blame them any.
Seen too many fellow panhandlers slither
over to dealers next corner over
and waste it all at once
seeking their next, perhaps last, high.
So, after thinking it over carefully
I have some suggestions to offer
as an actual Homeless wise man
for you to consider as alternates.

You don't need much to try
offering these to those holding kites,
as we call our cardboard signs.
Single packs of instant coffee work,
as do hot chocolate and kool-aids.
You can get cheap liner gloves
over at your local dollar stores
And socks, never forget we walk
long distances in the bitter cold
wearing those too long until destroyed.

Gift cards are a great idea
just choose their source with Wisdom.
While Starbucks might seem your choice,
you get more cups per fiver
over at McD's or Seven Eleven.
And if you choose food gifts,
as an allergy sufferer I plead
have choices to avoid reactions ready
on those most common, deadly allergens
like nuts, tuna, berries and soy.

Believe it or not, even trash-bags
can be very well accepted items,
on those rainy or snowy days.
Batteries keep us just like you,
as we have little electronic devices
to help us keep spirits up,
be it radios, gaming toys, flashlights,
or for a few, digital cameras.
See, you can find easy things
that let you give during this season.

Not saying it won't go wrong
in some cases despite avoiding cash.
Face it, barter is our economy
with cigarettes, instant coffee and tokens
be it bus, laundry or some other,
as our hottest and desired commodities.
And, yes, some will trade foolishly
giving up needed gloves for drugs,
but that choice they will make
has its own long-term costs attached.

If you decide charities are better,
please, research that organization very well,
and don't be afraid to ask
one of us for which seems
to have their brains in gear
about getting things to end users
in timely and efficient ways recently.
Also watch for fake organizations springing
up to sucker your dollars away
from where the need really is.

I'm not telling you to give.
That decision is your's to make.
Those as have the heart will,
those as don't, well, they won't.
And no matter how much spent
it won't end the homeless problem.
But you will make some better,
and give their spirits a lift.
And your own, probably, as well.
After all, it's the season's name...
...and what life is really about.

17SeptemberDyfedd Rex

My Allergy Hell - A poem of confused suffering

You wake up puzzled
wondering what woke you
until it creeps over
and grabs your skin
that horrid insane itch
that lets one know
you are reacting again
to some damned allergen.

Reach for your meds
pray to not need
that still packed epipen
as your fingernails request
you scratch them vigorously
even though you know
it won't give relief
until this passes away.

I know this fear
have it most nights
will time be it,
when I don't awaken
until after the point
when its too late?
Since that damned morning
this is my worry.

But, Hell, with luck
maybe I get days
or even a week
without another bloody exposure
to break my health
allowing me to sneak
a few more moments
of serene joy in.

12/18/2012 - Dyfedd Rex