Two excellent poems from Street Roots, a local street paper in Portland:
Jesus Was A Bum
by Tobiah Tillman
Where do we find Jesus son this cluttered earth?
AS a bastard child He was in His birth.
Born out of wedlock, (gasp) Oh my God!
Destined to be struck down by Satan's rod.
Who was this half man that you follow?
His flesh you eat and His blood you swallow.
Did you know He was homeless and dirty?
Did you you He didn't live much past thirty?
A man born a fugitive to a crazy empire.
He called himself lliving water not holy fire.
A man of love, not a man of hate.
Sacrifice and suffering was this man's fate.
He washed our feet, we spit in His face.
We erected a Wall-Mart in providence place.
We worship the offering and forget the Lord.
When I got to His house I fall asleep bored.
We worship a man who hung out with whores,
And kicked it with lepers, healing their sores.
Did you know Jesus was just a simple hobo?
Yeah? Well how many of them do you actually know?
"Some Thoughts On Homelessness"
by Gimel Gaiah
Why did that street kid call me family?
Why did the rich man just peel a 20 dollar bill and
give it to me out of his wallet?
Why is it hard to look people in the eyes why you
are a stranger to them?
Why did that lady just give me cookies?
Why did that lady give me clothes and a scarf?
Why did she give me such a sweet smile, and he?
I am homeless. Why is all this happening?
A man walks up with 2 huge bags, one full of shoes,
the other a tent, he asks if I am truly homeless and
would I like these items.
All my life I never imagined this.
Love for a new family of understanding life.
I see the love everywhere, on all street corners.