homeless Archives - Spillwords

The Power of Words

Jenise CookApril 17, 2020

The Power of Words written by: Jenise Cook @jenisecook My father was lynched. Mama took her own life. Foster care rotated me from family to family. ...

EnglishLiterature0 min read

Dignity

CJ DelousMarch 7, 2020

Dignity written by: CJ Delous The Seagulls used to be Angels according to a Nordic legend that I probably don't understand. They have become this w...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Watermelon Lunch

Phyllis SouzaMarch 6, 2020

Watermelon Lunch written by: Phyllis Souza — Like an overgrown weed patch, his chin hid beneath a straggly beard. A man was spitting black seeds whi...

EnglishLiterature0 min read

Frozen

Roger TurnerJanuary 14, 2020

Frozen written by: Roger Turner @titansdad It was a night like this Back in old T. O. When a woman froze to death In the cold and frigid snow I p...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry1 min read

Confession at St. Mary’s

Jim BartlettDecember 24, 2019

Confession at St. Mary's written by: Jim Bartlett Mickey rounded the end of the fence, stopping to take a long hard look down the narrow alley. His ...

12 Days of ChristmasChristmasEnglishFeatured PostLiterature18 min read

Burnt Christmas

MelisaDecember 21, 2019

Burnt Christmas written by: Melisa @MQuigley1963 Tasting soot breathing difficulties house burnt down water bomb bursts through the sky charcoal...

12 Days of ChristmasChristmasEnglishFeatured PostPoetry0 min read

Silent Night

Jim BatesDecember 18, 2019

Silent Night written by: Jim Bates Ralph Kaczynski had been a salvation army bell ringer for seventeen years and it was by far and away the coldest ...

12 Days of ChristmasChristmasEnglishFeatured PostLiterature7 min read

Night, City

DahNovember 6, 2019

Night, City written by: Dah @dahlusion An imposing fog comes with its damp body flapping like wet skirts on balcony railings. Then surveillance b...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Bermondsey to Basra Battlefronts

Nobby66October 5, 2019

Bermondsey to Basra Battlefronts written by: Nobby66 @douglas97_s 2002 Dole doldrums, Asbo estate yobbo’s attack stagnated study, mates dying o...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

The Homeless Have No Friends

Charlie BottleAugust 30, 2019

The Homeless Have No Friends written by: Charlie Bottle @CharlieBottle I am nobody, invisible, unseen, of the lowest varna, I am stratified, dise...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Baddass Rooster, a poem written by Sheila Henry at Spillwords.com

Badass Rooster

Sheila HenryAugust 10, 2019

Badass Rooster written by: Sheila Henry I cheer on your strength yours is more than an ox stronger than any builder’s pillar ~ is your grit but ...

EnglishPoetry1 min read

Despair

hedgehogAugust 1, 2019

Despair written by: hedgehog Winter was all but over with Snow melting, trees with icicles hanging Like downward pointing daggers Litter from the m...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

The Homeless Guy

Robin McNamaraFebruary 27, 2019

The Homeless Guy written by: Robin McNamara @robbiemac72 The shutters pulled down he made his bed cardboard first then the sleeping bag Saturday ...

EnglishPoetry2 min read

Bandit Queen

Mark TulinFebruary 2, 2019

Bandit Queen written by: Mark Tulin @Crow_writer She sits in the coffee shop talking to herself, arguing about things no one understands. Pas...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Gerardine White (mostly called Ger) grew up in wild open country of West Limerick, Ireland. Her country life is represented in her poems and has a strong bearing on her core values and education. She inherited the skill of poetic rhyme from both of her parents and her Grandad – who were all fine poets and storytellers. Her education took place mostly in South West Ireland and the rest of it is gleaned from travel, from life, and from being an avid reader of all kinds of books. In recent years she has returned to poetry writing. This past year seeing her published in four Anthologies from Clarendon House Publications. She sees herself as a Spiritual person, very connected with life in all forms. She is happily married for past 20 years and currently lives in Sussex, UK. She enjoys healthy pursuits of country walks with a nice cuppa tea and chat at the end.

Resurrection by Suzanne Craig-Whytock

On the day that Budgie died, I was young and very sad. He was a pretty bird, always singing in his cage. Sometimes we let him out to fly around, and on that day, the curtains were wide open and he slammed into the glass hard. Momma put him into a shoe box and I cried as we buried him in the back garden among the lilies. The next morning, very early, I snuck out of the house and dug him up with a garden trowel because I wanted to see him one more time. When I took the lid off the shoe box, his eyes were open and his wings fluttered ...