Last week it was thrilling to have two of the club’s guardian angels working with us. A special thanks to Lois Stavsky, who organized and created our workshop lesson and to Young Adult author Lyn Miller-Lachmann, the lego lady (her latest book Rogue) and resident of the Columbus Branch neighborhood, who dropped in, hung out, participated and inspired us all. The Writers' Club@Columbus examined the issue of homelessness, a daunting problem afflicting our city and world.
Cold Blanket Cold is a big blanket And the longer you’re outside It grows Cold covers a lot of space doesn’t it? Where are the eyes to see it? Where are the eyes to see what it covers? Cold is a little cold that way Leaving what it touches A little less warmer—Lenny Collado
Description of the person in the picture Adult big teen In his 30s or older In his mid-40’s 40s I believe around 30
Where is he/she is heading – anywhere safe & warm To look for heat, shelter For a nearby garbage can A place where no one will bother him Up the block but no place fast
Where is he/she coming from—the last place that was relatively safe and warm The last place he was kicked out of From another garbage can A place where people don’t want him To find somewhere to sit
5 things in the person’s wagon Blanket, gloves, pillow Bottles An umbrella Coats, shoes, a spoon Roaches
Why a shopping cart? Like a snail that carries its house on its back He chooses this because he doesn’t want to lose the little things he has He has nothing else to carry the tons of stuff he has He was able to get it for free because once he started using it nobody else wanted it
What happened to him? Mental or health disabilities, lost job Probably drugs, not finishing school Maybe he lost his job or just got kicked out and left on the streets He was incarcerated and when he got out nobody would put him up or hire him A little crazy, no money no help
How long homeless: not long -—not that raggedy One month 3 months his pants look new
Advice: get off the street if you can Nothing because there’s nothing you can say I’d tell him to try to reach for help from the government and try to get to a shelter Go to a church or agency to get off the streets before his stuff gets ruined or stolen Try to get help, a job, a second chance
What should the city do? Find him an apartment—a job or training The city can help him in a shelter The city can help him by opening doors of education Find a place for him to live and a job
Greatest challenge – surviving the day Getting food, clothing a place to sleep He faces hunger, cold and he’s probably tired Cold, rain Living, staying healthy
Response to how’s your day going – Beat it I think he would say not as bad as yours He might say all his life he’s experienced bad stuff Turn away, move on My day is messed the f up
What would you ask – are you hungry? What happened? What can I do to help? How can I help?
Chelsea Poetry Homelessness: Chelsea I see dirty streets Even though they are clean I see gloves and a pillow Maybe for him to cover his hands and sleep The zone seems pretty dark Even though it’s day And his eyes… oh, his eyes Who will ever know what they keep?—Elianny Moronta
I see a human bundle rolling life’s possessions down the street: disgarded mover’s blanket for bedding; a slip bucket for bathing; an extra pair of gloves for layering against the cold I see a cold hard monotonously brick project with shaded windows blocking out the world to insulate the living a fence to keep people out; I see no sunlight, no warmth, only the bundles insistence on living—Matt Rudansky
I see a man who seems middle aged, who seems weak and tired I see a man who lacks of hope and needs some faith I see a man who needs some help and a friend I see a man who shouldn’t go through this depressing and terrible lifestyle I see a man who doesn’t care what you think for he’s doing whatever he needs to do to survive I see a homeless man—Darlene Pompa
I see struggle I see a city neglecting its neglected Showing a side of itself it could do without I see nothing being done Because I see a man down and out I see a small window And many obstacles Both touchable and untouchable—Lenny Collado
I see the fence that keeps a man from shelter The grates over the windows and drawn curtains say you are not welcome here We hardly have enough for ourselves (we only have one air conditioner for everyone) Our garden cannot grow food Our trees are bare and shed pieces of themselves—Lyn Lachmann-Miller
I see what nobody else sees I see no one around me I see there is no one to love nor to even care about me I see garbage on the floor where I sleep I see myself hurting while I walk I see ripped up gloves in my hand I see what I didn’t see before now I see what nobody else sees—Bryan Morales
I see a man, I think with the world on his back in front of a building of bricks and traps. I see homes but not for him, a city where people r so rich it’s a sin that so many can’t eat, have no place to sleep. I see one glove in the freezing cold where no one cares for the young or old and no one hears this man’s cry or cares if he lives or if he dies.—Rodger Taylor
No Home but the bench Call me a frozen mummy Spring should thaw me out—Mat Rudansky
Columbus Circle It’s probably 6 in the afternoon Of October last year Who may see this man? No one really, I think He’s been there for 6 months now With no one to watch his back He may have found the covers in a trash bag His mom kicked him out of home without another glance back Poor little person What is he going to do? Well, that’s up to society to decide—Elianny Moronta
Cars passing by while I’m trying to survive. People stare and look at me while I cry. People don’t help and I start to die trying to help myself but I can’t survive.—Bryan Morales
Sunrise reveals a man sleeping on a bench in the shadow of power Time Warner has turned its back The boss’s assistant has called the police.—Lyn Lachmann-Miller
Disparity! Disparity is what I see. I can’t believe what this world has come to. It’s normal for the rich to walk, pass by and ignore the real life problems. So here’s a man in the middle of Columbus Circle and no one can reach for his assistance. Disparity that’s all it’s come to.—Darlene Pompa