Monday, April 10, 2023

Monday's Poetry: "The Eyes of Portland"

 
by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator

A couple of days ago I used this space to talk about watching John Mellencamp recently perform in Kansas City.   Much of the show was loud and raucous, but he did have a quiet interlude in which he shared several stories of a personal nature.  One of those stories was of sitting at a restaurant in Portland, Oregon, in front of a large window and watching a young homeless woman walking barefoot, at a fast pace, up and down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.  The singer finally became so concerned watching her erratic behavior that he went outside to speak with her and see if he could be of any assistance.

Mellencamp approached the woman and asked her what was wrong.  She told him that she lived on the streets and that she wanted to go home.   After learning that she had grown up about 300 miles away, he offered to buy her dinner and provide her with a bus ticket home.  The woman told him that she could not go home because her parents did not want her.  He then asked if he could buy her a meal, and she replied by asking him if she would have to have sex with him in order to get the meal.  When he explained that there were no strings attached to his gift, he pulled some bills out of his pocket, and she grabbed them and hurried away, turning once to say that she couldn't believe she was getting a meal without having to have sex.

John Mellencamp wrote the following based on that experience as well as his observations of the many homeless who live on the streets of Portland.


The Eyes of Portland
by John Mellencamp

As I saw through the eyes of Portland one day
There were so many homeless
They'd all gone astray
They slept on the corner during the day
As not to be harmed when the sun went away
There were old ones and young ones
White ones and black
They were all shapes and sizes
With rags on their backs
So many people 
Mixed up in this stew
With no place to go 
And nothing to do

All of these homeless
Where do they come from
In this land of plenty 
Where nothing gets done
To help those who are empty
And unable to run
Your tears and prayers won't help the homeless

Some are mentally ill
Some are higher than kites
Selling their bodies 
As day turns to night
Where are their loved ones
Does anyone care
To be lost and alone
In the middle of nowhere

All of these homeless
Where do they come from
In this land of plenty
Where nothing gets done
To help those who are empty 
And unable to run
Your tears and prayers won't help the homeless

What will it take
For this country to see
For the grace of God go they
And not you and me
The fallen and forgotten
Who are down on their knees
Living here in the gutters
In this land of the free

All of these homeless
Where do they come from
In this land of plenty
Where nothing gets done
To help those who are empty 
And unable to run
Your tears and prayers won't help the homeless
Your tears and prayers won't help the homeless

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