Camera obscura

By France

The homeless poet

I saw him first and then noticed the cardboards. There were many of them. On each of them, there was a poem. I continued my way but then, convinced myself to go back to have a closer look. I asked him if he was the author of the poems and he said yes. He called himself “Crazzy” Dave. I asked if he ever published any. He then told me he did once with the help of a photographer who worked with him to illustrate his poems back in 2008. It was equally an artistic and social project: 50% of the proceeds will be used to help Dave get his life back on track.

I “bought” one of his poem and it reads as follow:

Sweet Memories

When the wind ruffles my hair,
like your fingers once did,
it stirs-up memories,
thought I well hid,
memories of our love,
so sweet and pure
from my heart and soul,
tears cascade to the floor,
no tears of pain or sorrow, are these,
but ones of good times and sweet memories.


His name is “Crazzy” Dave and he is a poet.

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