About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
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Green Peas at Stake #579079 added April 12, 2008 at 11:47pm Restrictions: None
Beggar Girl (Dewdrop 12)
Beggar Girl
People change their paths
to avoid you as if granting you
a favor, making you recall the blood
inside your worn-out shoes
and the purple veins creep up
your forehead. Your footpads
like tropical fruit -akin to papaya, mango-
were not made for panhandling
in Port Authority.
Still, you wade through
the passengers with your own pliant style,
and purring, prowling, prancing, adrift
on tiptoe, you bend your voice to
this cranky climate.
I watch you bounce about like
a child playing with flashes of sunlight,
and I question myself with a tone
I do not recognize. Then,
as you whisper some meaningless words,
I slip a dollar in your hand,
only because my ego needs
the grace of your smile.
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© Copyright 2008 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. Joy has granted InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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