Spending a month in a hospital teaches you a lot about people.
The doctor that told me to shave my head or she wouldn't treat me,
The nurses that spent forever chatting to me
And giving me supportive advice about how my illness doesn't define me.
The woman who was given a terminal cancer sentence
And chose not to pay attention to it and defied it anyway.
How she sat next to me on my bed,
Told me that all suffering is valid,
And just because I'm not dying, doesn't mean I don't get to complain.
How she complains more about her skin problems
Than she ever complained about her cancer,
And that's OK, because pain rarely follows rules.
I never even learned her name,
But she gave me the words I hold most closely to me
On those days when I want to fall asleep and never wake up.
I'm allowed to scream and shout and rage against the pain
And the unfairness of it happening to me.
I just have to make sure I know where the line is
Between giving my darkness a voice and pitying myself.

The only part of my day
That I look forward to
Is when I go to bed
And lay there making up scenarios
In my head.

I think of comebacks
To 8th grade bullies.
I think of witty retorts
To my mother's snide comments.
I think of intelligent things to add
To conversations I had months ago.

I think of all the things
I was too scared to say.

And in my mind
I say them.
And pretend how things would be different
If only I had the courage to speak.

anonymous winds
bend tall Timothy grasses,
wake rabbits napping
in the brush

they ripple the surface
of the stock tanks, tickle the haunches
of the beasts who wade there
to slurp the tepid waters

they birth red dust devils
for my eyes to follow, as they scud
through mesquite, and hopscotch over canyons
older than time

one day, soon, they will blow
over a shallow earth bed; I will not hear
their sibilant song, but my sleep will be deep,
unperturbed by their mystic music

My father died
from a gun shot wound
to the head

self-inflicted

Don't get all weird about it.

Fathers die
and their passing
though certain
is rarely easy.

So what can I say of this man
so many years
after his emphatic end?

I can say what Whitman said
of Lincoln:
"O Captain, my Captain.
Rise up and hear the bells."

But he will not.

He was ever-present
wise and alert
a boxer in life
a fighter in every way.

And I grew up with the gloves on
quick
elusive
and thanks to him
successful in every ring.  

He died
******* on a lit tobacco stick

Emphysema was gonna
take him down
so he pulled his own trigger
saved his family that way
though that's a longer tale

Therefore
and whereas
this is a belated requiem
for a man I loved.
My Captain.
Dear and departed
these many years
may he rest in peace
as he never rested
in life.

He came into the country
With wellsprings of living joy
The people wondered on him,
    Isn't that Joseph's boy?

"Physician heal thyself!
Thy words are heresy
You're just a man as I am
What do you mean, 'set free' ?

I know who thou art
And from whence thou art come
You profit me nothing
You're the carpenter's son

You blaspheme the holy prophets
Who do you think you are?
Get down from my holy temple
You're not the Morning Star, you're not the Holy One
I know you, you're Joseph's son.

What does he say? ... be 'born again'?
Go into my mother's womb?
He is a fool!  He is insane!
His mind is an empty tomb.

He eats and drinks with harlots
And publicans give him stay
How dare he come against us!
Send him on his way!
Lay hold!  Take him from the city
And cast him from the ledge!"

He passed among them unnoticed
He left them on the edge.

Not much was done
   few seeds were sown
A prophet is not accepted by his own
He travelled down through Galilee
He spread the news
  He set men free

And I said to the magic man
As I stroked my dusty brow
"I've walked this path of dreams, my lord
It isn't as it seems, my lord
The thorn begets the smell, my lord
Upon this road of dreams"

"My child, see you now, see you now," he said
"From whither have you come
To see the sights of Hell,
    through the eyes of demon ***.
To scream the mouth of the man in the cage
Oh, fallen angel, to weather the rage
With dirt in your fingers
And dust in your eyes,
I have heard your cries," he said.

"Then what is to be?" I asked the magic man
"The Sun, my child.
The Earth and one.
The knowledge of yin and yang.
The truth, my child
From where it all began.
And you shall know the secrets
From time and from before
I give to you the key-
   Unlock the door."

"But won't I be alone?"  I asked,
"In knowledge all my own?"
"Alone?" he smiled
"With All That Is?
Be brave, my child, and open your eyes
You have lived through the demon's deceit and lies
You have travelled hell and past
Know you at last
You are chosen and strong
      Oh angel, Arise!"

And I lifted my arms to the heavens
And knew that I stood on the edge of light
With my soul glowing beyond me
And the wings of my spirit in flight
            I opened the door




--1982
aka Lauren Jewell