Secret World Entertainment Vasilika Vanya Marinkovic 10/5/2011 ©
Chicken Broth for the Homeless Person’s Soul and an Ode to Homeless Man Ian, member of the Pride SFV, L.A. circa 2001 to 2003
He was away from his regular destination for much too long, that was Ian with the bottle
Where had we failed him, yes us without out the usual family replaced yet more with the network of worldliness.
Ian could not find that in a bottle.
He could find murder in the barrio, so he said.
Up North the homeless had bottles, murder galore and sleeping troubles outside…
Much further North than they had ever anticipated in fact.
Murder, what fun, homelessness, what truth.
Can the homeless feel pain? Do they feel pain in the soul? What drives them?
Are they all mad? Are we?
The damage the stress the life decidedly takes a toll, one that does not pay in the homeless
A toll much too high much too low much too high much too low
Die in the snow die crossing the river die fighting the bear die!
Live to tell the tales you heard in the songs.
Homeless Aurora in the skies-everyone is homeless there.
It’s all there-the proof of the homeless is all in the pudding-
Sometimes you must put on a brave face in front of those that have been weakened by happenstance or by their own doing. Sometimes you must reveal the truth and just break down.
Applicable to person who is homeless staring at the man and/or the man/woman-staring back at the homeless…
And stolen/borrowed from Secrets and Above…!
Part Deux
Money-it’s the root of all evil of strife and upheaval-
But I’m certain honey-
That life could be sunny
With plenty of money and you
Chicken Broth for the Homeless Person’s Soul…
An Excerpt from the Gold diggers-
But the men-
The men
The man
Man wrote-
Most
Who is homeless now
Why for Art Thou?
Weep now-no more willowy child!
-For I am borrowing
-For I am borrowing—the Light of the World
From the Artificial Intelligence Source
Marking the decay of all civilization everywhere.
Is this one grand reason you venture out
So boldly
So wrongly
So bravely
So cowardly
Our demise is inevitable
And yet you hurry without words
Without arms without shelter without
The lacking the Cult—lack of cult
Of personality will thrust you upon
The streets-or the containing of the abundance thereof.
Never let loose abundance into cancer of your passageways!
Thrust into the streets
Reap benefits thereof-
Mark the end of days, the end of night the end
The end is always near and above for the
Homeless soul has taken a further
Plunge into the bowels of society!
To see, feel, hear, love, hate life
And all its pitiful evil-loving-dying
Manifestations therein
The broth runs either way
On the streets-too thin too thick
One can reap lack of rewards till Kingdom come
The end is always clear
And hearken this!
The Homeless need please fear
The tube that equalizes
The good and the evil into one
Pure force combined.
Gone is the distinction of love
And hate good and evil
And the homeless know this
Have always known this
It’s as if they were born homeless
Knowing.
Drinking the disease
Drinking to medicate
Drinking to pass the time.
Chicken broth for the soul.
Fragmented into how many screens are we?
-Yet there still is no room for you.
-The Parable-
What’s left for you-my friend?
Nothing?-Nothing?
When ye will offer a sacrifice of thanksgiving unto the Lord, offer it at your own will.” –
Leviticus 22:29
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