Thursday 16 March 2017

Dreams are not legible

Poem on the Poor

When you first come here
You are in dire straits
You come to heal at the

Us: we're dreaming the same
Hundreds of miles away or next to you
An animal sense of each other
A comforter.

You visit the old dreams to see
If you're doing right or wrong.
A rite of passage
a chuckle dream

The stream runs within
Comfort, guidance, warning
My mother, brother,
And sister.

Dreams are not legible
Like children they are
Make a

Wish at the
Everyone dreams, but
Sometimes we shoot and miss.

Except for this
Where else would you consider
Who you are
And who you are not?


27 October 2015

Poem from The Homeless Library, the first history of British homelessness. Told through poems, interviews, artworks and handmade books. 

A documentary film about the project can be found here.

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