Confinement in 2004

When you are held captive
and confined to bankrupt hope
because your dreams have all folded
and you are more alone than ever
your soul is hungry for new chickens to count.

And you feel like nobody has ever felt so bad before
even if history says otherwise.
Some jails exist in the mind.

It is too easy to live in fear
and hope that it goes away.

Written on 10/27/04-- I didn't like this at first, but after the election I think it works for me after all.

A Special Kind of Self Help Group

Feeling betrayed and abandoned by the sky
and the moon
and knowing twelve step groups don't even exist
for your kind of madness
you compulsively check for the lunar eclipse
just in case those numerous clouds
have all gone away
of course they don't
so you log onto the internet
and look at photos
and know that it isn't even as close to good
as it should be.

The New War on Poverty

The young man smiles as cars pause at the light getting off Interstate Five in Medford, Oregon. He holds a cardboard sign that says "Need food, a job, prayer. Thank you." He's there almost every day and if he isn't, someone else is standing in his place. One woman's face is map of hardship, pain and probably loss. Her sign is worded differently, but the essence of it is the same. They are desperate people. These are hard times and every freeway ramp is a compass of what the economy has done to people all over the United States.

A few people pause and open their car window. They hand over a dollar or two and maybe say a few encouraging words. Other people won't even make eye contact. This is too close to poverty and it is uncomfortable to see that people are suffering. It is easier to make sure that the car doors are locked and just get through the light as fast as you can. And besides that dollar isn't going to do anything much. These people can work, they just choose not to. Or, that is what they must tell themselves in order to disregard the people with the signs.

About thirteen years ago, shortly after I first moved to Southern Oregon, I used to drive by another homeless man. He liked to hide out underneath the tunnel, on the north end of town just after the "Welcome to Ashland" sign. He is the only one I remember seeing on a regular basis back then. He is my compass for acknowledging that this problem of poverty, of hopelessness is growing bigger. And I don't think it is limited to my own backyard.

We are seeing people who had good jobs falling into poverty. We are seeing people who once worked their way off welfare, got out of the system and now are finding themselves dropped right back into a life of food stamps and welfare. And it should make us uncomfortable. It should make us angry. A lot of us are not all that far away from those cardboard signs.

November 2004

After the election
we can think we were heard
or not heard
depending on who is elected
in a huge round
of "my mother said that you are the very best one",
or maybe we'll count
and re-count
and they will think we forgot again
because we are supposed to be pretty stupid
after all is said and done.

And maybe we will have a trillion dollar game of tag.
Cartoon tag,
and the flags can be dripping
with the blood of fallen soldiers
who need to go home before dark.

"Mother may I?"
"Yes, you may... Vote!"

As Metaphysical as We Get

We grow tired of watching ghosts run out in the road
caught in our headlights one more time
or visit our apartments late at night
and wonder why can't anything feel original.

Like the native burial grounds at the cabin
that was unmarked but electric
on a cellular level
"Here be dragons",
unexplored, dangerous, unknown.

Elections

I've been waiting for the president to heal us
instead of hiding behind words
we whisper in stores, gas stations, hospitals
and cling to promises
broken like smooth glass we find on the beach
at low tide
and we are all supposed to forget
that we have been failed before.
Collectively unlearn what we were taught as the truth.

Some of us do.

A scattering sees the glossy advertisements
of our own demise
and we point it out
and whisper new words,
like courage
and facts.

Heal us.
We are broken
and without hope.

Waiting for the moon

When your life is ruled by the sight of the moon
and clouds creep in
fueled by rain
and wind and wintery madness
nights can seem long.

But the air is nice and cool
and we have this night
and that is a lot, really.

Haven't written in a long time, mostly because I have been driving all over the place. I really did miss having a car, so it has been fun although it is staring to wear off a little bit. The first week I was ready to go anywhere at a moments notice-- we were doing dumb stuff-- driving around in circles really. Today started my week of getting back to normal. So Mads and I went for a walk in the cold over to the bank to pay rent and to power to give those thieves some cash, by the sandwich shop (where we are on a first name basis with the staff-- I love small towns) and then finally home. On the way home we searched for tree monsters and they were out there! Some are red, some are invisible, some would chase you if they could and they all have big teeth although that does not necessarily mean that they are bad. It's not their fault their teeth got big. I learned all of this from my Mads (she is four by the way). So we had another good day. And then tonight it rained, so I walked to the Minute Market for some ice and my feet got really wet, but it was quiet and I had a nice time. Jason and the kids were watching Hellboy. Not exactly what I would have let them watch, but I was tricked. I had asked what they were watching and was told "PBS", which they later all admitted meant "PRETTY BAD SHOW", after they were caught. Mads went to bed with her flashlight. Between Hellboy and the monsters, I am fairly certain she will be joining us in bed later.

Had such a great day today. An unbelievable day. Started out going to see John Edwards at a rally at the Medford Armory. That was interesting however I do not like what he says about medical malpractice (Tort) reform. It is a bunch of bull. I was actually so worked up that I boo-ed him after his statement on it and I think I was the lone voice of dissent. So be it.

Next we went to the office (Seasonal Workers) and the mail arrived. Jason had some dental work done and he was told it was not covered because they changed our Oregon Health Plan at some point. He paid about $188 out of pocket and had another bill for $400+ which they have been hassling us about daily. We had told them we were requesting a hearing with the state because we thought we should still be covered. The dental office (SISKIYOU DENTAL) has been terribly rude to us, and it was getting to the point where we were going to have to come up with some money for them, just to get some peace. But TODAY we heard from the state that we are covered retroactive since July 1st which means that SISKIYOU DENTAL now owes us $188 dollars back AND they can bill the state for the $400+. I am thoroughly disappointed with the way that dental office has treated Jason (at one point he had an appointment they cancelled and did not bother to call and tell him it was cancelled-- so he took two busses, plus a morning off work just to get there and find out he had no appointment.) NOT a good business! So if you need dental work in the Rogue Valley, you now know who to avoid!

But to continue on with my good day... Sierra came home and announced she was one of four kids chosen for MATH OLYMPIADS at her school! My kid is one smart cookie! I knew that, but it makes me happy that other people see it too. And to think that my genes helped produce someone who excels in math, well it cracks me up!

One of the seasonal workers who knows about cars took a look at the car we want to buy and he agreed it is a good one! I am excited about that.

We should be getting the car tomorrow. Told you it was a good day!

Bereavement

If you live your nightmare
does that mean you get to dream your life?
Weeping mothers might lean away from CLOSURE
but they understand that there is freedom
in surviving the worst thing that can happen.
Not fearing death can be a gift.

Others shy away from aging
but I relish times passing.

So, we've lived without a car for almost a year now. That is kind of amazing actually. I couldn't have ever imagined making that work out as well as we have AND just being happy, even without wheels. Not to mention that I had no idea how much material I would glean from taking the bus. There are some real freaky people in Southern Oregon and some of them even know my name now. Which brings me to another bonus of bus riding... I have a larger sense of community now. It forced me to meet people and to talk to them. People really open up... we hear all about rehab and so and so's kid who was removed from their home and too many stories to mention here. Since May I have probably lost about 35 pounds... we walk a lot more. All these months I have maintained that we are CAR FREE and glad to be that way and then this weekend when my parents came for a visit they mentioned that they would like to help us out by buying us a used car and VOILA--- BAM--- I am obsessed with getting a car again. Sweet wheels that I can hop into, crank up the radio and escape! Oh sweet jesus... that sounds nice. So much for car free, but I do hope to keep walking every day anyway.

Secrets

My private longing
stays just under the surface
and distant enough
that it is much like reaching
for something that can't be achieved. Or won.

Codependency

We're all so lonely together
that I watch your suffering
and wish I could cradle it away
while you pull me close for a moment
and then move away.

I collect all the words you say to me,
write them down,
go back and re-read them when I need more of you
and then wish I had spares.

Favorite Young Hippie Couple

She wears gypsy skirts
that catch in the afternoon breeze
and they hold hands
as they walk down Main Street
and I see them in animated conversations.
Not just their youth is charming
but the way they lean towards one another
protectively encompassing bonds.

Sunday Evening

One lady with burnt sienna skin
wrapped in black
standing in front of the Catholic Church
weeping,
feeling invisible.
But I noticed you,
beautiful in your distress.

Our suffering is not solitary.

Survival

Abandoned by the rest
you wandered through, clutching memories
like self respect and hope
as if they were an evening bag
and you were high society.
All you had to hold on to
were little things you remembered
like the curve of his young chin
and his unseasoned trail.

Sometimes life holds us upside down
and shakes us.
Sometimes we are drawn to the edges of cliffs
and we get pushed off.
Sometimes it feels as though the whole world is mean.

And yet we hang on.

Confession

I've had gardens over the years
but being flaky
I don't remember to water,
and being a friend to all green things
I don't like to weed.
It's not that I'm a bad person
but I resent that we need oxygen so damn much anyway.

For Ashley Day

You rest in the southeast
near an old oak
right behind "babyland"
near the stone angels
and I will not forget
how you didn't get a fourth birthday.

Incense burned
and accidents happen,
but your baby sister got away
and your family had to keep going.

The community talked about justice
and Methamphetamine, counseling,
prison for your mother
but all of that didn't have anything to do with you,
not really anyway.

And I wonder how many of them
have stood at the foot of your grave
and remembered that you would have started school this year?

How many wept with the stone angels?

Midnight Adventurer

I've never been to Ireland
'cept for after midnight
in my head
and all my imagination can conjure up
are green hills,
a blarney stone
and a handful of drunk men
spouting off limericks.

I haven't seen streets
or dogs, though I suspect they are there too
somewhere. Is the same moon just as luminous?
I can only suspect.
Do they watch reality TV, game shows?
If I were brighter
I might know such things.