Green Collar

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“Blueberry Ice” – Whitney Avenue/Hamnett Way – Wilkinsburg, PA – This photograph doesn’t have a damn thing to do with this poem… I left the camera inside tonight… My purpose was to write… A camera would just distract me…

Watching people on streets come and go…
Abandoned houses remain capped in snow…
Occupied homes emanate clouds of smoke…
When the wind blows the stream is broke…

Neighborhood cats normally skittish and mean…
Using my warmth to get the energy to clean…
After a few minutes he is on his way…
Chasing a lost leaf across a frozen display…

After a few moments an old car rolls past…
The smell of exhaust and discount gas…
The car slowly rolls to a screeching stop…
Lights turn off and bass lines drop…

A few minutes pass into the crunch of ice…
A stranger slithers past staring not so nice…
There’s a guy on that porch we gotta roll…
Drop me on the corner and I’ll grab your toll…

Another night observing the urban streets…
Another drug deal by a kid packing heat…
Realizing we are all slaves to the dollar…
Blue collar… White collar…
And then there’s me… The green collar…

plant petunias and question everything – chriscondello
The Green Thumbed Vagabond

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Slaying Dragons – Felon Dreaming

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“The First Rays of Sunlight” – Frick Park – Pittsburgh, PA – An older photograph… But perfectly suited for this poem… This cairn is a representation of how I want to feel… I want rays of sunshine… Not the black cloud often seen following me…

Eyes on the ceiling… Back to the ground…
Rain drops drop in a rhythmic sound…
Thinking about how my life would be…
Living without heroin and a felony…

My arms show the scars of a million pricks…
Result of a mountain of heroin bricks…
Experience that only earned me a fight…
Desire to live lies in my will to write…

Writing is my last shot at redemption…
Art and photography my only salvation…
The few worlds where pain gets you paid…
One of the trades I bring in spades…

No options but to carve my own path…
Stand up and give the haters my wrath…
Take away my voice but can’t take my pen…
Thanks to God I still have a friend…

My only option is to continue writing…
Accept reality and continue fighting…
I will never be a part of the white-collar crowd…
Searching for a way to make someone proud…

Looking for a reason… A will to live…
A continuing reason to charitably give…
Locked out of opportunity… Left alone…
Societal failure… I’m on my own…

Can’t look down I gotta keep looking up…
When my glass is half empty I’ll hit you with my cup…
The world always seems to be pushing me down…
The jokes on you… My best work is on the ground…

plant petunias and question everything – chriscondello

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