Friday, 11 March 2011

I come from cuckooland

Lois writes: I have to admit with some embarrassment that a map of you, has challenged my own pre-conceptions of homelessness, and taken me out of my comfort zone. To my surprise my initial concerns have been replaced with an enthusiasm and pleasure for the work. For me, the poem that follows reveals some of the voices we're hearing in our encounters with homeless people; thoughtful, intelligent, humorous, generous and at times brutally honest.


I come from cuckooland
I’m on my way to cuckooland
to comfort
my pillow
comfortable lying
at the side of my soul mate relaxed relaxing
finding your space, routine
a bit of breakfast, a comforting sleep
I do 4 hours a night
what makes comfort comfortable?
a teddy bear, a singer’s voice
a particular
one particular voice
music is hard but there’s one voice
you grow up hearing
the music of the soul
is anything good to the ear
listen to the birds’ opera

I come from cuckooland
well on my way to cuckooland
I’m in cuckooland
listen to the birds
music is wordless
that’s why it’s so good
springing joyful
some is made for a purpose and some is just made
like a rainbow
Barry White bless his soul in the sun’s warmth
comfort can be a cry
for sadness or grief
or joy
a strong sign of weakness
I was in detox
(you can’t say that word: it makes me thirsty)
you cuddle your baby
you cuddle your body
communion at church
the comfort of chocolate
homeless people: I comfort my friends on the street
let them stay once and awhile
something warm, something to eat
close your eyes and things come
the music is
springy and joyful
I feel happiness.

I come from cuckooland
I’m on my way to cuckooland
cuddle your pillow
to go.

Anonymous Group poem, 
Booth Centre, 8th March

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