Forced Pilgrimage
All this talk of moving these days, let's devote some time to the act of leaving one's home!
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Journeys made to some place with the purpose of venerating it, in order to ask there for supernatural aid, to discharge some religious obligation.. heavy stuff! I do hope to get some discharge and aid from my new apartment..
Amanda Bynes got kicked out of her NYC apartment for allegedly tossing a bong off her balcony and smoking in the lobby. She was described by the media in all sorts of ways, from "bong throwing heathen" to "mutated celebrity stoner". Now that's not very nice! I've never tossed a bong, but I think there are worse offences out there..like owning ferrets!
This guy in Paris lived in a 17-sq ft apartment for years and was finally booted. He was paying about $400/mo! Now that is a rough go!
The Eviction by William Allingham
In early morning twilight, raw and chill,
Damp vapours brooding on the barren hill,
Through miles of mire in steady grave array
Threescore well-arm'd police pursue their way;
Each tall and bearded man a rifle swings,
And under each greatcoat a bayonet clings:
The Sheriff on his sturdy cob astride
Talks with the chief, who marches by their side,
And, creeping on behind them, Paudeen Dhu
Pretends his needful duty much to rue.
Six big-boned labourers, clad in common frieze,
Walk in the midst, the Sheriff's staunch allies;
Six crowbar men, from distant county brought, -
Orange, and glorying in their work, 'tis thought,
But wrongly,- churls of Catholics are they,
And merely hired at half a crown a day.
The hamlet clustering on its hill is seen,
A score of petty homesteads, dark and mean;
Poor always, not despairing until now;
Long used, as well as poverty knows how,
With life's oppressive trifles to contend.
This day will bring its history to an end.
Moveless and grim against the cottage walls
Lean a few silent men: but someone calls
Far off; and then a child 'without a stitch'
Runs out of doors, flies back with piercing screech,
And soon from house to house is heard the cry
Of female sorrow, swelling loud and high,
Which makes the men blaspheme between their teeth.
Meanwhile, o'er fence and watery field beneath,
The little army moves through drizzling rain;
A 'Crowbar' leads the Sheriff's nag; the lane
Is enter'd, and their plashing tramp draws near,
One instant, outcry holds its breath to hear
"Halt!" - at the doors they form in double line,
And ranks of polish'd rifles wetly shine.
The Sheriff's painful duty must be done;
He begs for quiet-and the work's begun.
The strong stand ready; now appear the rest,
Girl, matron, grandsire, baby on the breast,
And Rosy's thin face on a pallet borne;
A motley concourse, feeble and forlorn.
One old man, tears upon his wrinkled cheek,
Stands trembling on a threshold, tries to speak,
But, in defect of any word for this,
Mutely upon the doorpost prints a kiss,
Then passes out for ever. Through the crowd
The children run bewilder'd, wailing loud;
Where needed most, the men combine their aid;
And, last of all, is Oona forth convey'd,
Reclined in her accustom'd strawen chair,
Her aged eyelids closed, her thick white hair
Escaping from her cap; she feels the chill,
Looks round and murmurs, then again is still.
Now bring the remnants of each household fire;
On the wet ground the hissing coals expire;
And Paudeen Dhu, with meekly dismal face,
Receives the full possession of the place.
"If you're a young person facing homelessness because your landlord is trying to evict you, check your rights and what you can do to avoid becoming homeless."
Journeys made to some place with the purpose of venerating it, in order to ask there for supernatural aid, to discharge some religious obligation.. heavy stuff! I do hope to get some discharge and aid from my new apartment..
Amanda Bynes got kicked out of her NYC apartment for allegedly tossing a bong off her balcony and smoking in the lobby. She was described by the media in all sorts of ways, from "bong throwing heathen" to "mutated celebrity stoner". Now that's not very nice! I've never tossed a bong, but I think there are worse offences out there..like owning ferrets!
This guy in Paris lived in a 17-sq ft apartment for years and was finally booted. He was paying about $400/mo! Now that is a rough go!
Oh, wow, there is a website www.mothering.com that has some priceless posts concerning..motherhood, I guess. Here's a gem.
Bet those ladies would have been grateful to get kicked out of that house.. too soon?
Eviction, Noticed by Elizabeth Barrette
On eviction day,
I was startled to discover
that I hadn’t been living alone after all.
There we all were on the lawn:
the bogeyman from the bathroom
whose job had been banging on the pipes,
the monster under the bed
and his cousin from the closet,
even the little old lady ghost
in her transparent housecoat,
and me.
The policemen who’d come
to escort me out were so dumbfounded
they didn’t even reach for their guns.
As the two monsters cleaned the blood from their claws,
I said, “What did you do that for?”
“Hey, it was our house too,”
said the monster under the bed.
“We can’t live there with it empty.”
“So what will you do now?” I asked.
“I dunno,” they said.
Then they picked up their luggage and trudged away.
The Eviction by William Allingham
In early morning twilight, raw and chill,
Damp vapours brooding on the barren hill,
Through miles of mire in steady grave array
Threescore well-arm'd police pursue their way;
Each tall and bearded man a rifle swings,
And under each greatcoat a bayonet clings:
The Sheriff on his sturdy cob astride
Talks with the chief, who marches by their side,
And, creeping on behind them, Paudeen Dhu
Pretends his needful duty much to rue.
Six big-boned labourers, clad in common frieze,
Walk in the midst, the Sheriff's staunch allies;
Six crowbar men, from distant county brought, -
Orange, and glorying in their work, 'tis thought,
But wrongly,- churls of Catholics are they,
And merely hired at half a crown a day.
The hamlet clustering on its hill is seen,
A score of petty homesteads, dark and mean;
Poor always, not despairing until now;
Long used, as well as poverty knows how,
With life's oppressive trifles to contend.
This day will bring its history to an end.
Moveless and grim against the cottage walls
Lean a few silent men: but someone calls
Far off; and then a child 'without a stitch'
Runs out of doors, flies back with piercing screech,
And soon from house to house is heard the cry
Of female sorrow, swelling loud and high,
Which makes the men blaspheme between their teeth.
Meanwhile, o'er fence and watery field beneath,
The little army moves through drizzling rain;
A 'Crowbar' leads the Sheriff's nag; the lane
Is enter'd, and their plashing tramp draws near,
One instant, outcry holds its breath to hear
"Halt!" - at the doors they form in double line,
And ranks of polish'd rifles wetly shine.
The Sheriff's painful duty must be done;
He begs for quiet-and the work's begun.
The strong stand ready; now appear the rest,
Girl, matron, grandsire, baby on the breast,
And Rosy's thin face on a pallet borne;
A motley concourse, feeble and forlorn.
One old man, tears upon his wrinkled cheek,
Stands trembling on a threshold, tries to speak,
But, in defect of any word for this,
Mutely upon the doorpost prints a kiss,
Then passes out for ever. Through the crowd
The children run bewilder'd, wailing loud;
Where needed most, the men combine their aid;
And, last of all, is Oona forth convey'd,
Reclined in her accustom'd strawen chair,
Her aged eyelids closed, her thick white hair
Escaping from her cap; she feels the chill,
Looks round and murmurs, then again is still.
Now bring the remnants of each household fire;
On the wet ground the hissing coals expire;
And Paudeen Dhu, with meekly dismal face,
Receives the full possession of the place.
"If you're a young person facing homelessness because your landlord is trying to evict you, check your rights and what you can do to avoid becoming homeless."
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