I'm just waiting for God to kill me
November 11th 2021 - By Rex Hohlbein
It’s difficult to understand how remarkable and beautiful the Grand Canyon is unless you walk up to the edge to take it all in. It’s difficult to understand how remarkable and beautiful each person suffering through homelessness is unless you walk up to them to take it all in. It's all about coming closer.
Arcadia is a remarkable and beautiful young woman. Her views on the world are clear and wise beyond her years, which are only 21. She thinks of herself as a poet, or at least used to. She still proudly shares, “I’ve had some poems published!” All her life she's been drawn to words. In the 4rd grade she was reading at the 10th grade level.
Her dad kicked her out of the house when she was 17. There's a story there but the end result is she’s now living in a tent. One that is falling apart with tarps draped over. Her tent and her life are a mess. She's struggling. Really struggling.
She thinks of herself as a poet, or at least used to. She still proudly shares, “I’ve had some poems published!”
I’ve only known Arcadia for a month and two days but through the 6 or 7 visits we’ve become fast friends. During our third visit, I asked if she would write a poem for me. I said, “I wanna hear your poetry, will you write me a poem, I’m willing to pay for it.” She agreed. A couple more visits came and went, and no poem. Last week, when I walked up to her, she quickly said, “Do you have a pen and paper?” When I replied no, she turned and ran to her tent. When she came back out she knelt down and began to write without stopping. When done she stood up and handed me this poem. I asked her to read it to me.
under waters of air
a confined cube
invisible hands push
forcing focus one way or another
look this way
now here
you must!
everyone else is doing it
with lungs that i cannot force open
i gasp for a breath of fresh air
i hope, I need, to get
Something new, a start
for now it stays in stagnance
My eyes pop out of my skull with the pressure
An angry shark fights to swallow me whole
But still i persevere
Out of the closet of this beast
this foe with powers only as real as
the materialism of
that breath of air i so very deeply need
I will not let this assailant hold me
in its belly of solitude
I am worried for Arcadia. Yes she needs housing, but I don’t know how that happens right now. Yes she needs drug-rehab, but I don’t know how that happens right now. Yes she needs a job, but I don’t know how that happens right now. It makes me want to scream.
I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment. She began to explain it to me. Listening, I wanted to cry.
I am worried for Arcadia. Yes she needs housing, but I don’t know how that happens right now. Yes she needs drug-rehab, but I don’t know how that happens right now. Yes she needs a job, but I don’t know how that happens right now. It makes me want to scream.
What I do know how to do “right now” is to believe in her. She needs to get something positive back within herself. I began wondering if lots of us can believe in her by having her write a personal poem to each person that reaches out. I talked with Arcadia about this idea and she’s really excited about it. She said, “I’ve been trying to get back to my writing, maybe this will help.”
Email rex@block-architects.com what you would like a short poem to be about. We set the poem-price at $25 on a sliding scale. If you want to pay less, or pay more, it is your choice. In your email we can talk about how best to make payment.
We join the solution for ending homelessness by coming closer to see the beauty that exists in each and every person. LOVE.
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