Poetry

Free to let My Beard Grow, a poem by Mark Tulin

 

I may live unsheltered,
not knowing when my next meal
will come;
my shoes may have holes in its soles
and my pride ripped and torn,
but I have no care in the world.
I’m free of convention,
free of the balls and chains
that restrict and bind.

Don’t feel sorry
when you see me pulling a cart
across a busy street
‘cause I’m free to let my beard grow,
free to collect bottles and coins,
free to walk at my own pace
without a clock to control my time.
Nothing’s chasing me.
Nothing’s stopping me 
from exercising my personal liberty.

Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

15 comments on “Free to let My Beard Grow, a poem by Mark Tulin

  1. anitastories

    i envy the man on the street in that way, his freedom of convention

  2. Your poem suggests that people are homeless by choice. This may be the case for a few, but by no means the majority.

    • True, many are homeless by difficult circumstances. Some, however, seem to relish the freedom, although extremely difficult and unhealthy. There was one person in particular that I was thinking when I wrote this poem.

  3. Hey, I really like this. Very good, Mark.

  4. There is a lot to be said for personal freedom!

  5. Sadly, so very true!

  6. Ok, is that you, your beard, lol!

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