The  Beat: True Stories From the Streets

Page  24 by Harry Martin Polis
                Artwork by Jaynee Levy-Polis
 
 
 
TO THE POORHOUSE

 I look around our house, a modest row house, and what do I see?  It’s shabby, just a cluttered artist’s and writer’s house.  Nice people live here with nice children, but there’s more.  I see dear friends, people in need of new appliances and appliance upgrades.  All or mostly all our funds go to our beloved son who now and then speaks nicely to us.  His education and all the accoutrements that are needed to provide for a child, has made life for us, one broken appliance at a time.  Doors that lock need repair and replacement.  Electric shuts off because it’s overloaded and we need a new electric line.  Rugs have no nap; they’re without color, and in some places they’re just about worn through.  The kitchen and bathroom sink have faucets that leak.  Thank God our kitchen overhead light fixture was finally replaced by my electrician brother.  My treadmill, which I need to use everyday to keep my diabetes in check, speeds up and has me running for my life.  I also need a new leather coat because mine looks like Swiss cheese.  Our water tastes bad because it needs a new filter.  Brian complained his room was too hot because his computer overcame the strength of his air conditioner.  We bought him a stronger air conditioner because it really was hot.  Our washer and refrigerator are both over 18 years old.  Please let them last until we move someday, I pray.  Brian’s little car, which we need him to have so our old car won’t go south is falling apart and we need to help him get a more reliable one.  Then as I look toward our tired furniture, just about everything I see around me reminds me of its overwhelming need for replacement! 
 But who’s complaining?  Look at all I have, and what really counts.  I’m a happy man and I really do have everything I need.  Amen!

Copyright 2002 by Harry Martin Polis
Harry is available for lectures and entertainment with stories and poetry.  Contact SCOOP USA, or e-mail Harry.

A SEA OF EMPTINESS

 Look around, dear readers and see your fellow man (or woman).  Do you notice how empty people seem today?  People live, it seems to me, for money or material things.  Where is their spirituality?  Where is the goodness—God-ness—that people are born with?  I get so mad when I see parents who will not help their children, with money or just to physically help them survive--giving your child a home or hand up, so that the child will not be homeless, like someone I know personally.  I try to help when I can.  It is written in the bible, “He who saves one person saves the world.”  I have tried to help people for most of my adult life whether it is a place to stay, or to feed someone, or even to buy someone something they need. I have been there.  Money to me is a means to an end.  It’s a way to extend kindness in a harsh world.  I wish I could tell you some of the things I have seen parents do to screw up their kids.  Mean, rotten things that I hope come back to haunt these miserable people who pass for parents.  Children need love and nurturing, caring, concern and guidance.  All the things we read about in the self-help books go to waste on people who aren’t interested in the first place.  I read them and take the information to heart.  I try to gently pass along what I have learned.
 The sea of emptiness I see is not endless, but it is long, wide, and deep.  Its waves are angry and fierce.  We need to be floating on a calm zephyr, on a gentle pond, a lake of love, with blue skies and clear sailing ahead for us all.  It is impossible for the most diligent of us to raise our children perfectly.  We all make mistakes and our children pay for those mistakes.  No one will really float by on that cloud I’m describing without long introspection, but when parents are mean-spirited toward their children, they do great damage to their children. 
Copyright 2002 by Harry Martin Polis
Harry is available for lectures and entertainment with stories and poetry.  Contact SCOOP USA, or e-mail Harry.


 


 

 
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