Woe – Full of Noise
Steeped insolence defended by sleep apnea defined by outbursts of wrath justly abused at every turn
crossing this worn down despised patch
by being extinct this may be the earth’s only salvation
for too long we have accepted air water earth automatically to exploit
we can do nothing that is not in our interests
faith and luck has given us a sense of complacency these billions of years
with anthropocene era our thirst to gather storms display simmering chasms of despair for all that still believes has faith that we care
Since birth we have been running toward the brink of hurtling cliffs we had not thought to live simply on a shelf far removed from all else preserving ignominious resulting gulfs
as land and seas come closer to inundating everything else we manage heinously blindly hedonistic today we must all die or else
give in leaving everything to heal be restored reconciled to bitter ends
Anxiety Beware Beheld Foretold
RUPTURED Defeated Denuded Distraught Derived from Loss
impenetrable inseparable irrevocable harm done
contrived conspicuously surreptitiously for malice
relentless set apart
not in floating clouds gliding by but in deep seeded mistrust troubled sighs
cast off from a waterfall plummeting over rushing slippery mines
unrelenting jaws clenched fists of ironwood cramps never bend
hegemony blend fear doubt terror from start to uncertain ends
frail consciousness will not yield seeing hearing unrepentant progenitors
kick out under your feet where when how why how you choked
there is no room for more every ounce of pure misogynous hell as such has been unleashed
abashed by uncertain promises of more perverse travesty to come
do not hesitate to let go to jump to go good riddance to all
On Mothers – Daughters – Grand daughters on and on – Without Strings (Sin Sogitas Amarrados) Attached
Without Strings (Sin Sogitas amarrados) Attached
where do we come from an umbilical cord that is firmly knotted from placenta to infants from boundless seas unto ends of earth from whence we climbed from the brine onto shores of distant sands forever united across oceans currents lapping waves upon every monument of life
a caravan stretching end to end across streams of asteroids carrying precious cargoes of filaments of genetic strands strewn across a twisted helix of birth rebirth of rising tides settling winds nourishing fecundity of currents a slippery glaze carrying descendants unto utter ends
we’re born here in this spot from mothers who have born the brunt of all existence throughout our brief path along a trail that remarkably has survived
we’re blessed beyond measure that we’ve been carried by these loving arms held close bestowed with limitless finite gifts of momentum revelry in a smiling face embracing coddling consoling us throughout our presence
We’re a finite gift perceived by every knowing hand that comforts fondles rocks judges not but provides eternal sustenance.
We’re sacred a rare gift that is a blessing to all who come and have come before connected from beginning to end through language music sphere as a hand that rocks the cradle that holds her breast that suckles the young fervently guiding us on
Never Never Have Had anything to Do With Any All That’s Wrapped Up Here NOW
Reality is not fixed set limited Experience is transcendent metamorphosis always changing limitless
Seeing the world as set like a pendulum of a great clock is like living on one plain of existence
LIFE CONSTANTLY VARIES
spirals helix double treble multi-layered warped around asymmetrical
turns on an axis
spindles revolve in different relation to one another like dark matter
always collaborating contorting continuously spinning at odds with perceptible limits
forming shape space substance nuances of ground whatever is
changes without pause
irreducible clairvoyant from end to end beginning to beginning never having begun
always present here
we’re a minuscule sinew of kicking hearts throbbing in darkness never lit
sourdough mash starter struck in fused in motion absorbing sponge devouring ether
attracting more more more mass rising congealing consuming all that is that ever touched touching grasping yielding springing forth with a will of ferocious vent gases released in geysers throughout pervasive darkness circulating with everything knowing renewing repelling connecting
there is no end no middle no beginning no here or now no resolution always changing tampering with form flow function design grand finite free tasteless odorless revered hated despised desperate devolving into a great barrier swamp from which there is no foothold known
Rage Rage Rage Against Dying Light
We have to know that we are loved when we’re small We have to know what difference it makes that we grow old and slowly lose capacities once were facile supple tastes.
Gracefully few prevail who wish to end their struggling trails of tears of trials that bite ripping apart what remains of silent flight
Creaky bones exhausted joints tired out at every turn we have to sit rest almost as much as jaunt to find relief from immeasurable excesses of gas and irritable unrest
none know as much as we do about what stands between promises to keep and withering beneath weight that brings us down to earth
we have few times that are sublime where we have energy to climb as lofty a pinnacle as we dare or feel air rushing through our hair as we fly down slopes as fast as we will
always there is a new grimace that comes when turning or least of all you know where this ache came from
ice and heat cold and hot temperatures wing on tethered rising and descending with sheer malevolence you cannot know from one moment to the next what to wear where to find a suitable outlet emergency exit to recline
There is no one to hold often one is left out away from anyone who will come to play
There is nothing to stop the ravages of growing old except ultimate darkness that unfolds letting go sitting still easing on down to grasp inevitably what is at stake that breathing is more urgent lost among fire escapes
Prepared as we must be it is helpful to know that dying is an achievement to embrace as much as new fallen snow
Trauma Care Premises for Surviving for People Who Are Living in Public Spaces and BEST PRACTICES
“Nothing about us without US,” always have this principle first and foremost when Considering public policy and especially rules and regulations that Affect people who are living in public spaces.
One asks directly, What do you think or feel about ……….?” Incentives are essential – the person must be considered a subject expert and accordingly, treated as a person of esteem perhaps nothing is worse than patronizing a person who lives marginally.
“HOW do you know what it feels like to be immersed in extreme poverty, lacking connections, feeling invisible, trauma which everyone experiences who suffers the indignity of being without a place to rest, go to the bathroom, dress appropriately, be prepared for work, feeling clean, eating decently, having medical care that is universal integrated long-term?” These are a few of the nuances of being impoverished but there is an element that is in the heart, inside, in one’s spirit of making it, of simply surviving, that over rides everything else in one’s life. Anyone knowing someone in these straits has to begin with listening astutely without judging the sagacity truth or reasoning of the person who shares their story and it must be done reciprocally whereby you are willing to give up your personal success and knowing what is best, but that we are the same regardless of our circumstances. THE HIGHEST form of adulation of a person who lives on edge is that they regard you as being safe and non-threatening. Any outreach services have to be offered from the origin of respect, dignity, and high regard for whatever the person shares.
Homeless persons or people living in extreme poverty have to be at the table as equals on all policy, funding, assessment and decision making protocols. Their point of view must be regarded as expert testimony. I cannot emphasize this premise too much. I feel people who take the time and feel secure that they are valued should be compensated financially for their input. Their presence must be sought after as one would any counsel by a professional.
Those programs that provide this effort have trauma informed care at the forefront of whatever their protocol is and how their resources are utilized. WHEN I cross the threshold of a trauma informed care center or site the values and interests of the patient, client, person before you have to be considered foremost in design and development of the place. THE HOMELESS OUTREACH PROGRAM or HOP has two fully equipped exam rooms with caring informed staff because for many people living on the “edge,” this is as much as they will tolerate of systems, offices and treatment facilities. THE BEST work I ever accomplished was right on a ledge of a soup kitchen simply listening being present to the person wherever she or he is and however she or he is. Their interest may surprise you but be yourself always listening with respect and integrity for the person’s confidentiality and trust, I NEVER assume I know what is right or wrong for that person, even if it is obvious, that is insignificant. TRUST is what matters most of all.
How do you know what is wrong with a patient who comes to you as a medical professional unless you ask him or her? The best programs begin with TRAUMA INFORMED CARE and MOTIVATIONAL INTERVIEWING in other words, they offer choices not a quick fix or right answer. IF HOMELESS PEOPLE WERE NOT DOING THE WORK just as much as clinicians no one would intervene successfully in reestablishing connections a network and having the person begin to believe that he or she is fully capable.
In Ft. LYON in Lamar west of Pueblo the people run their groups, lead their treatment, regulate themselves as a community. Community building even when the person has been housed is essential for adapting and maintaining a high standard of quality of life. People in Ft. Lyon have severe issues but when they are finished as return to wherever they live two years later, they have to have the skills to teach and guide others. The program at North Colorado Station does not begin with the premise that I do not need to work on these issues always, they begin with a premise that we all live with a network and should expect to find supportive inspirational motivational environments in which to dwell as we change grow older and die.
Family centered models that impact individuals like the Gathering Place begin with a host of resources network opportunities to earn a living to be a fully equipped person to lead one’s life and care for one’s children. OFTEN the mothers and their children experience severe early childhood trauma, which simply helps us to realize that they still wake up, rise move on with their lives.
They have to learn to trust, to understand that it is not their fault, what occurred, that they can care for one another, heal and trust other adults. That it is necessary to share their experiences and feel at ease that they’re lives are invaluable, they are sacred gifts.
All couples have to be honored. GLBTQ children, relationships have to have a place where they’re welcomed and accepted as who and how they are. Programs like the Catholic Worker Community have made it a requirement that people live together in community eat as a family, have their own space to dwell, work on changing and development of their aims as a family, couple or individual. Everyone in Catholic Worker Houses must get up everyday and go out and accomplish what their objectives are. There is no waiting list to be a part of the community. Everyone does chores and prepares meals and whatever is possible joins together to eat and share their lives. The difference with the Catholic Worker model is that all relationships as families are honored.
The Bridgehouse in Boulder is a model of work force housing that is exemplary. The reasons for their success is the same as any program that motivates a person to work and live in a place of their own. Many similar models exist in Street to Home paradigms. In every case we begin with the values and aspirations of the participants in the programs.
Assessment and data collection is pivotal to knowing what resources respond to the full person and are proven to succeed. The Chapin survey of homeless youth by youth who were paid for their expertise is an excellent model for collecting data. It is the most comprehensive and successful study of people who are younger than 25 on the street that has been done because they knew where to go and were trusted by their peers. Jennifer Perlman at Colorado Coalition for the Homeless has offered to do a comprehensive study of homeless experiences of trauma that would provide concrete data for 25,000 people who are living in extreme poverty. SUCH means testing services are indispensable in understanding the underlying fears and losses of being “homeless.” We desperately need FUNDING to accomplish these outcomes.We have no data on trauma. $150,000.00 would be required to make this research possible. At the conclusion we would know precisely how rampant and pronounced the issue of extreme poverty is in this community. This study would be a bell weather for providing more sustenance on trauma informed care.
I need you to talk about your perspective of good community development and
react to systems and rules that are written by people who have not been part of the system?
From My Father’s Ashes
Beloved gentle giant noble beautiful bounty for a son’s fiery countenance born from bound to beholden to forever potent gift of natural beneficence fairness unblemished decent transcendent from practice of kindness servitude patience restraint
no one ever loved or embraced lapped love upon a son like this wonder of the world being touched by him stripped all pretense concern trappings from doubt that ever more this true crucible of loving arms kisses furtive gestures was the standard born in all relations
when one lay down closed tired eyes clenched a fist rose in dissonance his gentle voice rocked you as in a cradle nudged you to quell the distemper made it possible troubled spirits dissipated from hovering tentacles receded giving way to dawn
His body depleted by ravages of struggle breathing departed but spirit always remains after most of my life finite sense that this giant still remains seated on my bed stroking my head holding me gently heaving as though to absorb the sting of being my mother’s child he simply cared for me whatever matter malevolence fury emerged from flaming torches that rose and always rocked me to sleep deep within his breast more mother care giver wonder than all the shades of grey more mellow stirred serene memories deftly comes faintly from his heart
though he left half a life span past his smile his frame hovers over all I have ever all I know all in heaven beyond head bent by my side my head on his great lap