Situations 11

SITUATIONS

ELEVEN

WRITINGS FROM THE

AIDS SERVICE CENTER NYC

CREATIVE WRITING WORKSHOP

WINTER 2008

SITUATIONS ELEVEN AIDS Service Center NYC Winter 2008 Situations is a literary magazine containing the writings of participants in the Creative Writing Workshop at AIDS Service Center NYC. The ASC Creative Writing Workshop promotes medication adherence, stress reduction, sustained recovery from substance abuse, and healthy behaviors by offering a forum for selfawareness, social engagement, empowerment, and selfexpression among persons living with and affected by HIV/AIDS.

Copyright © 2008 by AIDS Service Center NYC, 41 East 11th Street, New York City, N.Y. 10003.

All rights revert to the authors upon publication.

The ASC Creative Writing Workshop is funded by a grant from the Ryan White C.A.R.E. Act, Title I, HIV CARE Services, a project of the Medical and Health Research Association of New York City; and a grant from the Phil Zwickler Charitable and Memorial Foundation. The printing of Situations was made possible by the generous support of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Housing Opportunities for People With AIDS, and the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration.

ASC extends its thanks to each of these funding sources for demonstrating the vision and commitment to support creative programming for people living with and affected by HIV/AIDS. Founded in 1990, ASC is a multiservice community organization delivering state-of-the-art peer education and training, harm reduction, specialized women’s services, HIV counseling and testing, mental health services, medical and holistic care, case management, support groups, and many other innovative programs that help New York City’s most vulnerable individuals and families to survive and thrive in the face of HIV/AIDS. ASC’s motto, “Helping many, one by one,” embodies our mission of building community, connection and stability for the thousands of New Yorkers we serve. ASC services are available in English, Spanish, French, and Haitian Creole. All ASC services are free and confidential.

Workshop Leader & Situations Editor/Photographer: Gerry Gomez Pearlberg Publication Design: Joseph Cavalieri ASC Program Liaison: Ramona Cummings ASC Poetry Leaders: Shurland H. Aird, Chardelle Imani Lassiter, monté, and Rufino Colón.

CONTENTS Introduction page 5

Poems by Rufino Colón 6

Poems by John Pinkney 9

Poems by monté 11

Poem by Diane Dawson 14

Poems by Luther Jarman 15

Poem by Ronald Ray 18

Poems by Chardelle Imani Lassiter 19

Poem by Stephen Poems by Alan McDonald 22 Shurland H. Aird 23

Poem by David Molina 26

Poems by Fred Street 27

Poems by Larry G. 29

Poem by Poems by Stephen Walker 30 Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis 31

Poems by Edwin 34

Poems by L. Murphy 35

Poems by Beng L. Kam 37

Poems by Robert E. Lee 38

Poems by Sherry P. 42

Poems by Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse) 45

Poems by Poems by John A. Cooper 39 Steve Lewis (a.k.a.

Latin Gorilla) 40

SITUATIONS 3

INTRODUCTION STUDENT BODY OF WORK

Each week, the teacher or the Workshop Leaders Bring to our class A new poem Which we read and analyze With our fine-tooth comb.

We make love with thought...Word Written, Spoken, Read, Heard —CHARDELLE IMANI LASSITER

In her poem, ASC Poetry Leader Chardelle Imani Lassiter summarizes the process by which ASC’s weekly Creative Writing Workshop promotes engagement and healing.

Through poetry, participants transform silence into communication, fear into courage, and isolation into mutual support. For people struggling with HIV/AIDS, recovery, homelessness, and other challenges, the workshop is a place of contemplation, intellectual stimulation, and creative community.

It’s also a place where leadership is nurtured. This summer, for the second year in a row, workshop members who have been trained as Poetry Leaders ran the class on their own. Many thanks to Shurland H. Aird, Chardelle Imani Lassiter, monté, and Rufino Colón for keeping the creative fires burning all summer long.

Regrettably, along with all there is to celebrate, there is also sad news to report.

This year, our group lost two beloved participants: Sherry P. and Erik R. Nusom.

Sherry was an ASC Peer Educator and Poetry Leader. She attended the first Creative Writing Workshop back in 2000, and nearly every class over the next six years. She passed away in March 2007, and we miss her dearly.

Erik—another longstanding participant—passed away in October. Erik’s striking poems garnered admiration and awe, and his contributions to the group’s discussions were deeply enriching to all.

We’ve reprinted some of Sherry’s and Erik’s work in this issue to honor and remember them by. I know you’ll be moved and inspired by their poems, and by every poem you encounter as you explore this new issue of Situations.

Gerry Gomez Pearlberg Workshop Leader P.S. To learn more about ASC and its Creative Writing Workshop, and to read interviews with some of our poets, visit www.ascnyc.org.

SITUATIONS 5

THE SOFT ANIMAL IN ME The soft animal in me Is the one who knows how to love you for being you.

The soft animal in me is the one that barks at the moon just because it’s there.

The soft animal in me likes the smell of freshly cut grass.

The soft animal in me loves the bloom of spring.

Rufino Colón

THE HOLE IN MY HEART

I have a hole in my heart— A self-inflicted hole.

Chasing dreams that were Unreachable.

Unrealistic love expectations.

Trying to be perfect in an imperfect world.

Hating myself because no one loved me the way I wanted them to.

When all else failed I created my perfection With drugs.

Lies! Lies!

The devil’s greatest tool, The master of deception.

Today, I rejoice That my heart has found the Creator of Love and Truth, And every day I’m reminded that I’m not Him, And it’s all right not to be perfect.

Thank you for freeing me from myself.

Rufino Colón

WHAT DO I HATE OR LOVE? I hate those who hurt people just because they can, like Hitler.

I love those who love for the sake of love, like Gandhi.

Rufino Colón

FIGHTING WITH GOD

I am always fighting with God, even when He is trying to take away something that will do me harm.

DISEASE!

The first and most lethal disease known to man...

Symptoms: Distrust Hatred Racism Sexism Some of the effects of these symptoms: War Discrimination Murder Domestic violence Addiction Machismo False pride Deceit People-pleasing Jealousy Results: Lynching The Holocaust Columbine Virginia Tech

When I don’t fight Him, I always win.

This disease is called FEAR! When I stopped blaming Him for my HIV and admitted that it was my behavior that got me infected, and not Him, I started living again.

Rufino Colón

Every day, I thank Him for His mercy and try not to fight Him as much.

To lose to Him is to win!

Rufino Colón

SITUATIONS 7

NIGHTMARE

Run! Run! Guilty one, even though you’re innocent, it doesn’t matter.

Run! From the men in the black robes holding the hangman’s noose in one hand and a ball and chain in the other.

Run! Until sweat runs dry.

The robed ones are angry because New York’s finest didn’t shoot you 18 times as you reached for your wallet or gun you down as you came out of your bachelor party.

They are angry that they must soil their prestigious robes chasing the likes of you.

So run before you become Lady Day’s strange fruit.

Oh...it was just a bad dream.

Thank God! This time....

Rufino Colón

A CHILD IN BORINQUEN

I remember when I went to Puerto Rico I thought I was in heaven because it was summer all the time and I could play all day.

In the morning, the alarm clock was roosters singing their heavenly machismo.

The smells, oh the smells! Smells of all colors, flower colors, candy colors and one I’ll never forget—the smell of coffee.

At night, I would lay on my back and look up to the sky and it was so black, sparkling with diamonds of all sizes.

I smiled like I knew a secret.

Then God winked at me, letting me know that all good things are free.

Rufino Colón

AFFIRMATIONS Now I recognize how much my alcohol and drug use kept me from being really close to my body.

I’ve been hiding out for a long time.

Somewhere along the way I quit being open to anyone.

I quit taking any risks.

My only relationship was with my addiction.

When someone approached me in a caring way I was afraid. I’d back away as quickly as I could.

I knew I was not being honest with myself and I did not want people to discover my phoniness.

Now I am discovering a real desire to be close again, to build some honest relationships.

John Pinkney

BE AWARE OF CRACK She sucked on it, the thin glass pipe She pulled on it with strange delight She told me to go away I thought it was here to stay She fondled it She held it She talked to it She danced with it She loved it

I hated it, for it was the dance of death I hated it, a dance that would not allow her to eat or rest I hated it, a dance that was tearing us apart I hated it, a dance that broke my heart...

Be aware of your words for your words become your actions.

Be aware of your habits for your habits become your character.

Be aware of your character for your character becomes your destiny.

BE CAREFUL! Thoughts create feelings.

Feelings create actions.

Actions bring you results.

Be aware of your thoughts For your thoughts become your words.

John Pinkney

SITUATIONS 9

MY BACKYARD Sitting in my backyard Just drinking my coffee the air is so refreshing.

The sounds of the day coming to the soul of man.

It makes you want more.

And more!

The sound of a thousand songs flow in the air.

What a day it’s going to be.

I must see!

Hear the songs of the trees and grass—it must be love.

The joy of laughing, smiling, and loving is the divine gathering of friends for a lifetime. Strong tides.

Just in my backyard, just in my backyard.

A good day to smile.

“Smile.”

In my backyard.

LET GO

My eyes have seen so much.

My heart’s full. My love’s full.

My soul is gathering much more.

The main thing I want to know is which way to go.

I want to know how to let go.

My eyes run with tears of love.

Why can’t I let go?

Yes, I want to know just how to let go, feel my body with joy and show me how to let go.

I want to know how to let go.

John Pinkney

John Pinkney

MIST

The wind blows the mist off the trees.

It feels so good, so wonderful and loving.

The clean pebbles of the mystic love blowing across my face, dropping into my eyes.

I rest my mind.

I offer it to the above, announcing it—it’s the place to be.

My soul knows there’s no other place to be.

I walk in just the blue sky, the sunlight.

It’s so sweet.

The softness of love holds the world in its hands just like the morning dew.

Flowing outward.

No matter how, who, or where, the love is still there.

John Pinkney

WHAT ABOUT ME? I think constantly about my image, my looks, my looks.

No I don’t. Yes I do.

How’s my hair?

Have I lost enough weight?

Yes I do. No I don’t.

Often I feel as though I should be a good representation of a gay man of a gay Latino man of a person of color of gay people of a gay Latino man 54 years old of a gay Latino man 54 years old living with AIDS loving still with goals going places being somebody being me

monté

SITUATIONS 11

If the thinking that all this is temporary— My goal—like that of new car, bike, or boat— is to get the most mileage out of my life.

I show off this great gift to any and all who will take notice.

Expiration date: Unknown.

ADAMANT

monté

FOR SHERRY P.

I refuse

Ab-so-lute-ly refuse

I cannot relinquish release

You must not relinquish release

Dammit, I refuse

Dammit, refuse

(Silence)

You’re not going anywhere

You are a very vital part of my creativity

Don’t give up

Please come back— We love you— Mon Cheri P.

monté

ODE TO THE NIGHT Darkness secretive and encompassing like a black-tinted gauzy veil Cool snuggling in for what we call the night At times a deep black velvet spattered with a sprinkling of lights Probably dust left over from the sun But once again say goodbye for now because here comes the sun

monté

POOF!

If I could, I would change the world.

I’d put you all in one bag, shake you up, mix you around, then scatter you on different ground.

Take your weapons, melt them down.

Lift you up and give you crowns.

With my trusty magic wand I’d banish hunger, greed, and class— make discrimination a thing of the past.

I can do it—yes I can.

Just with the help of my fellow man.

monté

SEARCHING Where is my muse?

Where is my love?

Love like I’ve never known.

Where is my joie de vivre?

I long for palpitations that can be elicited by someone like you.

The excitement your near proximity can cause.

My hopes heightened.

My desires ignited.

Remove these stop signs from my life.

Come to me, now!

monté

SITUATIONS 13

IT’S ALWAYS RAINING IN MY HEAD

Smiling in the Sunlight, Crying in the Shadows trying to fit in with the 9 to 5 crowd, feeling like a phony Screams in my head, guilt on my forehead lost sleep, getting weak trying to act normal Outsider looking in, pretending there is nothing wrong my cold symptoms won’t go away I wonder why Feeling depressed, Where are my pills?

I can’t work without them shit!!

Disclosure is not an option, shame is still here after all these years (10) please go away Sun is shining on me, hurricane in my heart blowing away my soul please don’t go No HIV people to be found, feeling all alone again no truth to that (smile) Erik, Shurland, monté It’s always raining in my head There are some things that just need to be said

Diane Dawson

TRAINS

I heard about the Gospel train, the Friendship train, the Love train, the Soul train, now the Freedom train.

What about the Hope train?

So you stay on the right track and don’t get on the Dope train.

Keep hope alive!

Win or die!

God will provide!

Don’t lose your hope!

You can cope!

The Hope train—now that sounds like a good train.

BORN TO WRITE

I’m a lover, not a fighter.

My pen is the tongue of a ready writer.

Neglect not the gift of God in you.

Writing is what I was born to do.

To the writing game I must be true.

I write for myself and not for you.

I write day and night.

I fight the good fight.

Thank God I was born to write.

Luther Jarman

Luther Jarman

DETOX 54!

What the hell is going on in my mind?

I’m casting my pearls before swine.

Selling my birthright for a pint of wine.

Black women smoking crack, with super space monkeys on their back.

My 36-year-old downfall Finds me in Harlem Hospital kicking alcohol.

Luther Jarman

SITUATIONS 15

MEETING AT THE GREYHOUND BUS STATION A generation comes and a generation goes.

The same questions and the answers we don’t know.

Moving from Ohio to New York.

Still living in the dark.

I tear down my house to cook my hog.

And find myself riding the grey dog.

Crows flying round the garbage dump.

Wise old bullfrog sitting on a stump.

I left all of this for New York?

Still living in the dark.

A generation comes and a generation goes.

The same questions and the answers we don’t know.

I tear down my house to cook my hog.

And find myself riding the grey dog.

Luther Jarman

AS I WRITE IN MEMORY OF SHERRY P.

The poet must write, write, write like a boxer must fight, fight, fight.

I write because that’s my calling.

As I find myself falling in love with four-letter words as I sing with the mockingbirds.

I watch Planet of the Apes as I tug on my Superman’s cape.

The poet must write himself back into shape.

Luther Jarman

“FINESSE” IN MEMORY OF ERIK N.

A Poet has passed from the earth A Poet of great worth Born of a poetic birth A Poet has passed from the earth Finesse created his poems for the world to see Dealing with life and HIV Finesse was a friend to me Poets alone are sure of immortality Live on in your poetry, Finesse!

Finesse, you was the best!

Your poetry will live in our hearts Finesse, you did your part A Poet has passed from the earth A Poet of great worth Rest in Peace!

Finesse!

Luther Jarman

DON’T LET THE POETRY DIE! I lift up mine eyes unto the hills As I bless my oatmeal The city making budget cuts Bowery bums picking up cigarette butts $80 for a tank of gas?

How long will these troubles last?

Grits and eggs, honey and pie.

Not just fools believe a lie.

Fly poetry, fly!

I refuse to let poetry die.

Luther Jarman

AGELESS BEAUTY

You got beauty and brains You put a lot of women to shame Ageless Beauty!!

It’s my sacred duty To tell you of your Ageless Beauty!!

Beauty that’s first class Pure raw natural beauty made to last Ageless as the American Dream Pure as a mountain stream Goodness and beauty year after year A woman of courage who has no fear You got beauty and brains You put a lot of women to shame Ageless Beauty!!

Luther Jarman

SITUATIONS 17

WHO IS THIS CHILD? His mother gave birth to him at 15 years old.

She told him he could talk before he could walk.

She was turned away for having him so young.

Her family was angry for this.

Her pain kept her from giving him a hug or a kiss.

This child named Beloved, why?

Because everyone who met him loved him as a child.

Too famous for his own good.

The Abusive Stepfather hated that he knew the whole neighborhood.

He kept this child from school, so locked away that he decided to run away one day.

11 years old, the running began.

By 15, gone for good.

Doing whatever to survive.

Whatever he could.

Prison, drugs, homelessness were all his life.

Some said he would not live.

Cold were his ways sometimes, and not a moment without shame.

As he grew, he learned life was not a game.

However, as much as people spoke in the negative, he knew he could and would live!

No matter how dark life would get sometimes, he never lost his mind.

He thanked God for staying by his side and for keeping him alive.

Mom is his friend today.

His dreams are becoming real every day.

Who is this child? Who was so wild?

This child is free! This child is me!

Ronald Ray

POETRY

Is lover and bully teasing terrorizing Taunting seducing soul To spill its guts Poetry can’t keep Secrets always telling everything It knows I trust it Because Poems always speak truth Even when truth lies Poetry Timeless tool Available To both scholar and fool Same thing

BREAK-A-LEG

Broken hearts & wings/Broken bones, dreams— Promises—Spirits/Broken homes & other things I’m breaking up/I’m breaking down.

Then—came a therapeutic break— Though/It was that I couldn’t Break it off/I could not break out/ Until I broke in—To my broken self.

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

DÉJÀ VU

So changed...

Is the world we knew.

Over the years I’ve wondered if I’m still me And if you’re still you.

And here we are again.

Déjà vu.

Many spring times past you asked: What do you hate?

And who do you love?

I answer now,

I hate the preposterous nature of fate.

I love when we were as two silken doves.

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

SITUATIONS 19

?

What is the critical difference among the species?

Biology? Environment? Culture? Mentality?

Seems all creatures need and want to survive...but Do crabs desire to “keep hope alive”?

Do zebras fear there’s Satan waitin’?

Do elephants recognize religion?

Do dogs believe in a god?

Many humans do, then create hell on earth.

Don’t you find that...odd?

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

AT RISK BEHAVIOR

At risk behavior Is starting wars Leaving out your front door Living stinking poor At risk behavior Is staying afraid Remaining enslaved From cradle to grave At risk behavior Is letting madmen rule Playing the cowardly fool Being a drug-swallowing human mule At risk behavior Is to abide and abet “ethnic cleansing”—murder— Genocide At risk behavior Is perpetuating Poverty Hep C AIDS HIV Sociopolitical insanity At risk behavior Is not stopping the ones Who create and sell The drugs The guns

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

PART OF ME Part of me Always holding my breath Afraid of AIDS Afraid of Death Part of me Has learned to Cope Bold Fearless Filled with Hope Part of me grounded bird Flies High On the winds Of a kind deed and word Part of me Bent by strife Refuses to break So...Here’s to Life!

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

AN INCONVENIENT POEM

Will we act?

Before the Grand Canyon becomes a landfill Before the Great Victoria Falls becomes a dry hill.../ Before oil spills make gel of our oceans Become dead sea graves, slick and thick with no motion/ Unnatural greed/Slaughters Nature’s Wonders/ Pirates profit/Poachers plunder Global Warming/is harming farming/Still/ Reapers claim the farmers are false alarming/ They say: “There’s no problem! So we seek No solution!/We’re conducting/Our business As usual.../We’re not concerned/About pollution.”

In the now...

Our Polar Bears and Penguins Are falling through thin ice/ Tell us: How much is enough?/Since We all will pay/The price/ Oh! We/Captives of Industry!/ We so enjoy our toys!/ You know girls will be girls and boys will be boys!/ We’re all in/This game of Environmental Roulette/Playing against the House/Is A damn fool’s bet.

Chardelle Imani Lassiter

SITUATIONS 21

FREE

Free when you can spread your wings and fly away Free when you can live to see another day Free when you can see your friends and family grow old together in love Free to be with the one and only one—the one you love So kick off your shoes put your feet in the grass feel the breeze zooming by as you pass It don’t cost you nothing— just free!

Stephen Alan McDonald

TOO MANY THOUGHTS

Too many thoughts.

Not sure which way to go.

I have so much to say.

But no one to tell it to.

I want to be adventurous, But I am afraid to leave my comfort zone.

I am feeling selfish.

I want to share with the world.

I am a complex, misunderstood, And often confused individual.

I am as simple as you see me.

Shurland H. Aird

VIH

It’s early in the morning and my host body can’t sleep.

He is restless, and in some discomfort from my latest ploy to take over his body. Ha, ha, ha.

I am the Dr. Evil of the disease world.

But for now I will give him a break and let him try to get some more rest.

OK, OK—That’s enough!

Now I will make him cough.

Let’s see...where do we go today?

Does he have to go see his doctor?

Wait...maybe this is the day he has to go to Social Security and sit the whole day (if there is a place to sit) and wait to be called only to be told that he is not sick enough to receive help.

The fact that he has been in the bathroom six times does not count for anything.

With a stroke of a pen he is dismissed.

But what do I care?

I have no feelings.

I want to kill them all.

Mess with me, will you?

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Shurland H. Aird

SITUATIONS 23

HOW HARD IT IS TO CROSS THIS BRIDGE

I want to cross.

I want to go over.

I want to discover the joys that await me on the other side.

I want to look back and see how far I have come.

I want to look in the mirror and like who I see.

I want to feel the satisfaction of completing a task.

I want to be rewarded for that task.

I want to receive that award in front of many.

To obtain all these goals and more I have to find the balance in my life.

I have to donate equal time and energy.

I have to allocate the right amount of will.

I have to trust in myself.

I have to trust in the Lord.

I have to trust that I am doing the absolute best for me.

I will need to be honest with myself.

I will need to look at the big picture of my life.

I will be strong.

I will make a better effort than before.

I will look beyond the obvious.

I will have more stamina and endurance.

I will make the right choices.

I will strive for a better balance in every aspect of my life.

I will make every day more fulfilling.

I will be more aware of my opportunities.

I will be happy and healthy.

I will cross that bridge and many others.

Shurland H. Aird

ODE TO THE TREES

Some are yellow.

Some are green.

Some have lost all their leaves.

Some are homes for the many, many birds.

Some are a source of food for the squirrels.

Some are mere twigs.

Some are giants to behold.

I wish I were a tree.

But do not pee on me!

I can stretch high toward the sky.

I can even catch a string kite going by.

I shade the baby plantlings till they are grown.

I grow toward the light with a mind of my own.

I provide shade for mankind.

I wish they would repay me by not being so unkind.

Like when they carve their names into my hide.

People think, Oh, trees can’t feel.

But I am alive, So let’s be real.

I know I was put on this earth to aid mankind, But please allow me to have a life for a little while.

Shurland H. Aird

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE DISABLED? You can drive a car. Why should you get disabled parking?

Why should you have a discount pass just because you have AIDS? Why should you get your medications free? They are not free for me.

Why should you get free food?

I have to pay the grocer for mine.

Why should the government give a shit and money for a cure?

Because some days I can’t get out of bed.

Because I throw up while sitting on the throne all at the same time.

Because unlike other meds, some HIV meds cost $800 for 30 fucking pills.

Because I lost my job when they learned I had HIV. Because my landlord changed the locks on me.

Because my family abandoned me—too ashamed of me.

Because my depression drives me crazy.

Because now no one will hire me.

Because I am treated by most like an outcast.

Because I am unable to have the life I had before.

Shurland H. Aird

SITUATIONS 25

ANCIENT HISTORY

From this lecture I’ve learned about the existence of an ancient humanity whose beings lived in liberty. Their religions’ world of prestige was filled with love, passion. They treated themselves according to their concepts of life. For them, the universe was to pray and surrender to divine gods. They played music with ancient instruments to honor them. Their knowledge was translated into other languages. They hunted to get food and clothing, drank water from lakes, carried their water by horse and camel. Their wood was sacred: the thrones of their kings, kindling to light the fires that illuminated their gods. They completed the heavens, stars and moon. From the summit, after their worship, they waited for enlightenment from the gods—their future and their past written in their path. There was no “mine” or “yours,” only community. The norm was peace, not war.

David Molina (Translated by Rufino Colón)

Passing on a nearby street— Approaching sundown, an array of dogwood trees stood bright pink & white leaves glowed in sunlight Music everywhere—listen!

Softness of breeze on my left cheek gave an aroma of this moment that I delighted in.

WRITING

Writing gives me the opportunity to express my point of view, negative or positive.

It allows me to explore images, dialogue.

It allows hope to keep expanding in everyday life.

Fred Street Creative writing held at ASC on Thursdays has given me encouragement—joy, appreciation of the ability to communicate with my fellow poets published in Situations.

Fred Street

IN RESPONSE TO A FILM

BY CHARDELLE IMANI LASSITER:

INVISIBLE WOMEN Internally—Externally Our profiles are distinguished.

Psychologically. Mentally.

Each and every day.

An approach stated in the film: The ability to learn—share—accept Opportunities presented to us And expanded on.

We possess the hope that imparts in your heart— Your film was informative and caring.

Fred Street

SITUATIONS 27

TO HATTIE L. BROWN

Thanks for your question in your poem, “Satan Never Sleeps.”

The question remains with each of us today.

THE AWAKENING

We’re all God’s children.

We’re born, we die.

That is the reality of our human anatomy.

Life will be dealt many situations— some understandable, some not.

Through maturity, nurturing situations can be achieved.

We cry, feel, hurt, share, and love.

Love is taught by your mom, dad, or others.

Hope is an ingredient that keeps on giving and giving— it’s built from within.

Through time and maturity of each passing day we experience the hope of a better time to come.

The hopes of today give inspiration, encouragement for tomorrow— bright and beautiful and sweet.

To process any situation, it will take time.

Your time—My time.

We’re part of a much greater, universal togetherness bound by love—hope—sincerity— and your belief in yourself.

Fred Street Fred Street

TODAY, 2007 1996: To interpret what was being said: The test was positive.

My hearing became mute— There was no sound that I could hear at that moment.

At the gate of my eyelids, tears erupted.

Now the journey did begin—again— in the arms of the angels.

Fred Street

MIND BE FREE Follow the cloud flying in the sky.

Follow the cloud’s height and width.

Read your mind, let it be free.

Ride the cloud, high in the sky.

Teach your young their mind is high.

Like the clouds in the sky.

Follow the clouds, with your mind be free.

Follow: There is no beginning or end.

Larry G.

HAIKU Old stars, new stars— One born every day

If you’re rich or poor there’s a table waiting for you.

Let all eat.

Larry G.

SITUATIONS 29

UNDER THE SUN The many vistas and landscapes The vastness of ocean horizons The majesty and awe of mountain ranges The quiet tranquility of forest valleys The arid sculptured rocks of the desert The blinding white snows of the arctic plains— All unique under the common sun.

Stephen Walker

YOU ARE WHAT YOU DO

You are what you do Not what you get, got, have Cause patterns consistent...become you Whether of humor, vinegar, or like those of a knave What you get, got, have Could they have arrived so independently?

While you yourself shun the good and choose the bad?

As though you’re fearless of the Almighty Consistent patterns...become you Aspiring to repeat, repeat, repeat Until...long overdue You’ll choose to retreat, retreat, retreat.

Take a stand and join hands ...Doing...as small and as good as grand.

Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

IN TRANSIT Cool, calm chameleon And more...

Neither wealthy nor poor; I scored headfirst Easing to fresh breezes, not strife And though different rays Of life’s contradictions have Held me captive in motion I am morning’s soft light, Luminous of new joys...

As I ease, ever climbing.

Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

THIS SUMMER This summer I wed before a hundred folks Then packed and drove, and Followed miles...

We pressed on by grace; U-haul accompanying...

Then passed our house Adorned with balloons dancing...

And saw us surprises most welcoming; We’d arrived in dark of late night To big sky country.

This summer I go from the Big Apple To big sky country To Best Western in New Jersey To early rising For late arrival back home To big sky country.

Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

SITUATIONS 31

ODE TO HORSES To horses housed or running wild, Horses at home or on foreign soil Your gentle giant self in black, white, brown Or in between How divinely given...

By faith of nature’s course you looked up— Took no hostages, spilled no blood for might, And all the while you fared a magnificent quiet machine Energized by simple means of earth’s green grace Left and right, up and down, all around You are in tune...not out of touch, No laziness befalls your talented Sometimes gifted self— Hell knows no real horses Wild or trained; You flee from fires...

While down-to-earth you fare As if there’s enough of heaven.

Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

SIMMERING FOR THE NIGHT Such quiet warmth This Saturday night, I must recall...

No long lights lingering On our flowered porch; Just us two...

Simmering, Reminiscing, Rocking...

It is twilight of our evening; And with nostalgic Gulf breezes, Comes to mind Belize by the Caribbean Sea— But smooth array of cars Cruise by, beneath night’s navy canopy Of big starry sky, The phone rings...

Mobile in hand, I am spellbound In New York state of mind; But then I realized, It is the honey, Vocalizing...

Charming, Enticing...

Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

FIVE HAIKU Nestled on green leaf sand-colored butterfly flies Telling me it’s real.

Just above water Small head of turtle peeking Unafraid of space.

A slender canoe and lone man upon vast lake Dark and still and void.

Time and time again thunder and breezes I hear Without joy of rain.

The look, smell, and feel of the Caribbean Sea Always in my mind.

Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

THE COST OF CHANGE In various tones of vibrant yes Change becomes a done deal As negativity we arrest And expound positives we gut feel.

A different sky and trees we see A different space sits lush Like thicket of possibilities Vibrating with new day’s hush.

We know now not to take light, change But envision ourselves so empowered Views and choices we arrange Enriches, we’ll soon discover.

Neither stifle nor abuse unending change, For with each recovery we’ll have to reckon.

Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

SITUATIONS 33

BLUE SHOES Blue sky Blue smile Blues I sing I walk a lonely blue mile Blue shoes Blue blues Blue skirt she wears She has blue eyes When she stares Blue airplane She flies Blue is the dress she wears Blue is the way she dances Blue is the picture she is painting!

Edwin

THE BEAUTIFUL WILDERNESS Watch the rainbow.

Listen to the black crow.

Hear the cows moo.

See the eagles fly.

White swans glide into the lake.

Green frogs ribet on the flower leaves on the pond.

Mrs. Duck and her little ducklings sing quack, quack, quack.

The beautiful black squirrel flies from tree to tree with a smile.

Edwin

MY FIRST STEPS My first steps being sober are very hard for me.

Meaning, trying so hard to stay clean.

20+ days clean and still climbing.

Oh well. What can I say but keep moving forward and stay out of the way of the wolves, so to speak.

I really don’t believe in the 12-step program ‘cause it’s not for me.

Well, I can relate to the first step: Admitting that I did have a problem with the drinking and drugging.

40 years old and very glad that I’m still here and keeping out of the people, places and things...

But come on, now. Where else can I go if I don’t have those three areas of my life, OK? My first steps... well, it’s like crawling all over again.

When you’ve got to start walking also and living, respecting yourself, loving yourself, and your surroundings...

Once you’ve got that, you’ve made it.

L. Murphy

SITUATIONS 35

I WAS, BUT NOW!

I was a smoker.

Not a cigarette smoker, a crack smoker.

Sneaky, but smart in everything I did—or at least I thought so.

Wondering, and wasting time, money.

Hurting feelings, but did I care at that time?

Of course not.

I was invincible.

But now I’m clean for the moment.

I was a drinker.

Not a part-time drinker, an alcoholic drinker.

Every chance I got I needed it— meaning a drink.

Waking up with pain in my throat, dry as hell coughing up dust, so to speak.

Rollin’ over to the other side of the bed, reaching down to the floor— Oh, there you are, my morning ritual, my lover my throat-healer my whatever-the-label-of-the-bottle-I-didn’t-care.

As long as it was a good pick-me-upper.

Did anything for it.

I was a mess, but now I’m clean for the moment.

You see, I was a mushroom-eatin’, ecstasy pill-swallowin’ special K line sniffer addict and at that time proud of it.

But now, I’m clean for the moment.

I thank God for that.

I’m not upset for what I did in the past.

That’s the past. I’m moving on.

I will be hurt and upset if I pick up again.

So I ask you all, just pray for me....

L. Murphy

DAMN, I’M GOOD!

Looking in the mirror glaring at myself— wow!

My mother did a good job.

She created a masterpiece of art.

Like a portrait using nothing but fine, smooth brushes going up and down, not missing a spot at all: Along with colors of golden brown, caramel color figures topped with a daze of bedroom eyes that’s attached to a hellafying personality which, if not taken seriously, will daze one with passion, mind-boggling confusion of thoughts on what to do next changing the moment in time.

You will experience a love like no other.

You will want it.

You’ve got to have it.

You’ll thirst for it.

And if you act right, you will get it and like it.

I know this, ‘cause this is who I am— an Afro-American brother who so happens to be gay, who can be a good lover in or out the cover.

Don’t be afraid, look at me.

This is what you see.

Look me up, OK? Damn, I’m good....

L. Murphy

HUMAN

It is like the two faces of a coin— the mind is the evil twin.

It is like the bad and good side of a person.

It is the heart.

Live life to the fullest. Enjoy life.

After all, we will have to leave this world.

Human is mortal.

Death will come upon us.

HOPE 1.

Beng L. Kam

Exuberantly winning victory after victory— for peace, education, and above all, happiness.

Long live the men and women.

Long live their vibrant network.

2.

When I am sad, I cry.

When I am happy, I leap for joy.

Sharing grief and sorrow.

Let’s continue to courageously live together throughout our lives.

And let’s have hope.

Hope is the driving force for everything.

Beng L. Kam

SITUATIONS 37

ACCOUNTING

Sure, everyone is born to die physically one way or another, and that matters a lot.

That’s very important, but not really.

What’s really important is what you do in between.

And sometimes you just do things as slick as possible because you see that it’s going to work.

But some things don’t happen the way they were planned and you have to take the loss. Nobody wants to take one, but we do have to accept it. Because sometimes a loss is not just a loss—it’s something you have to really account for.

Maybe you’ve done something in the past and forgotten about it.

Because at that time you didn’t care much and put your attention on something else. Then, years later, it comes back and this time you can’t forget about it. You have to account for it.

Robert E. Lee

LINES Lines are like a continuation which has a starting point.

Maybe the line goes around and makes a circle.

That means you get some type of experience, because you’ve been through it before.

Sure, things go your way— but sometimes, they don’t.

When and if that happens, just make the line tighter.

Because that strengthens the line as it was in the start.

Robert E. Lee

POETRY

LIKE A SEED

Poetry stirs your heart and soul, leads you through life as if you are blind.

Like that seed, we evolved from the dirt without sin or strife

Poetry depicts where we’ve been and where we are and where we wind up.

Like a seed we blossom and chisel our way through life for the world and darkness, entertaining them like an old vaudeville show

Poetry moves up, down, vertically, and horizontally through our life and mind.

Poetry lets the ongoing seeker see whether you’re the dog you claim to be or in reality just a pup.

Poetry tells a story like your omniscient author.

Poetry can tell onlookers whether your personality and character are that of a prince or a pauper.

Poetry, I believe, is a very strong tool to use in war and death.

Poetry has survived atomic bombs.

The poet died, but the poet’s pen is still here, even after the poet has taken his or her last breath.

So hail to the poets.

May their pens strike a mighty blow to their adversaries in their footprints from birth until death.

So hail to the poet on the battlefield scribbling how he or she left this blessed world of ours.

Like the game Monopoly—take a card— do you want to take a chance or live as if you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth and a community chest, until your last breath?

Like a seed planted for the first time in life

Like a seed we need water to grow

Like a seed— whatever type of seed you choose to be: vegetable, fruit or tree Don’t let the past hold you down emotionally, spiritually or physically There are invisible eyes watching you, so give life your best shot on your way to the mountaintop Like a seed, you and only you know where you came from where you are and where you are going Like a seed, you know what you are— a fruit or vegetable for other people to consume and feed off of, Or a tree standing tall, upright and strong, giving air to support life until the end of your run...

Time to go—you are now paper, shredded and confused, money for people to support families and friends, dust and dirt from which life began.

On the other side, you are what you reaped, good or evil, your life here has stopped, your tree has fallen, laid to rest.

Do you live, or has your life completely stopped?

John A. Cooper John A. Cooper

SITUATIONS 39

Today I kneel in front of the true and living God! If you don’t believe in the words I preach, give me a minute.

Are you not the one the newborn cries for to be nurtured and loved? See, you are God! Can you understand that you are the true foundation and backbone to every man and family?

See, you are God! Aren’t you the one who teaches knowledge, wisdom, understanding, morals—and subtlety—to the children?

You are God! Because when nurtured and loved you bring forth the meaning of life, the understanding.

I would like to beg for your forgiveness, for the physical and mental scars my forefathers placed on your back.

Please bless us with a smile and illuminate the skies.

Steve Lewis (a.k.a. Latin Gorilla)

The streets are crying because another soul has been lost to the corner.

Old-timers call it the infamous School of Hard Knocks.

So many have graduated, moved on, and gotten their Master’s— become scholars with degrees and titles in this industry we call life.

Doctors, pharmaceutical owners, producers, directors of adult entertainment and drama flicks that kept us on the edge of our seats.

We all take part in this cooperation.

As actors, or actresses, or extras.

So many of the actors and actresses made their names, but not on the Big Screen.

You’ve probably heard of them!

On every corner, block, and even borough.

It’s sad to say that these names mostly ring bells behind forty-foot walls and gates with barbed wire.

We all wish upon a star.

Someday we will see the light!

I just wish Peter would pick up his pants and Jane would stop doing those crazy things.

Steve Lewis (a.k.a. Latin Gorilla)

This morning I woke up dripping in my own sweat.

At first, I swore it was the dream I just had, but then I thought to myself it could not have been, because I just had a good time with some off-the-wall freaky sex!

So I closed my eyes and a few minutes later I jumped out of my sleep to that familiar voice.

I got out of bed and took a peek under it.

But there was no one there.

(It must be the drugs.)

So I went to the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth.

As I threw water on my face, I heard that voice once again.

As I looked into the mirror, it was my soul with tears in his eyes, chanting those words over and over again: I wish you would die!

My face flushed to a pale color and the tears cascaded out of both my eyes.

I glanced at the mirror again, just to see my past, present, and future!

It was like something out of The Twilight Zone.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.

Then the movie stopped, with me standing in the bathroom— a bright light flashed and fear ran through my body.

It leaned over and whispered in my ear, If you keep living recklessly you will never have no rest!

Steve Lewis (a.k.a. Latin Gorilla)

SITUATIONS 41

In memory of two talented and beloved poets

Sherry P. (1946–2007)

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse) (1968–2007)

THE TIMES OF MY LIFE

The times of my life were varieties galore.

I bathed in rivers of grandeur.

I slept on barren floors.

I laughed, I cried, I lived, I died.

All jokes aside, on roars of waves I did ride and ride!

I came ashore, I dove back in headfirst, I nursed the hurt of being me like the roaring of the open sea until I came upon a much desired tranquility.

Peace and serenity became alive in me.

The times of my life today equals sweet, sweet simplicity.

Sherry P.

LET FREEDOM RING!

From every hidden place where countless senseless lynchings took place, let freedom ring.

Let freedom ring from every injustice, degradation, humiliation, castration in America’s nation and from the African slave ships where men, women, and children were brought over in chains, shackled to the floors— Let freedom ring! in every hallowed hallway like the one Amadou was shot in—41 times!— and killed for no crime...he never committed...

Let freedom ring where every faceless, nameless KKK made its way to massacre our people.

Let freedom ring in the courts where equal rights was for shit in the streets— no retreats—let freedom ring for every black man, black woman, black child.

Let freedom ring for every white man, white woman, white child who engaged in equality.

Let freedom ring for every child born in dope addiction, methadone, crack, and alcoholism.

Let freedom ring with deafening rage.

Sherry P.

SITUATIONS 43

MY PEOPLE! MY PEOPLE! MY PEOPLE!

My people! My people! My people!

How long, how long, how long will you continue to do one another wrong?

Can’t you see we’re supposed to be sister and brother?

My people! My people! My people!

The steeple of justice is steep and it’s so damn deep Let’s no longer sleep— awaken! My people! My people! My people!— to a brand new day.

Please don’t let ignorance nor degradation, egotism, hateful loathing separate—My people! My people! My people!

Cloud your view—My people! My people! My people—yes, I’m talking to you, so what ya gonna do?

We need to come together like never, ever before in life— My people! My people! My people!

Let’s stop the strife amongst each other, let’s begin by not acting, but by being sisters and brothers to respect and love each other before it’s too late, let us conversate and lean on and support each other, for there’s strength in unity. My people! My people! My people!

Let’s be the great people we were ordained to be since the beginning of all time.

My people! My people! My people!

Let us pull ourselves up from behind and blow the whole damn wide world’s mind— we’ll have the nations standing in line, we can be triumphant, not lethal— My people! My people! My people!

Sherry P.

ODE TO FREEDOM Can you see the beauty in a blade of grass?

I can.

Just walking down the street breathing, taking in all the city has to offer.

Exhaust, the aroma of food, the smell of hot pavement in summer, that cool smell once it has rained.

That’s freedom to me.

Can you see the beauty of the rush of air that precedes the A train as it comes to Fulton Street from B.K.?

I can.

To be able to look in her eyes and just trace the curve of her face with my finger... in silence, even if it’s only for a moment and only a memory...

That’s still freedom to me.

Can you see beauty on the tiniest or grandest of scales, be it a baby’s coo, or the thunder’s rumble?

I can.

Just the fact that I sit right here, right now, delivering this poem to you...

That’s freedom to me.

What does it mean to you?

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse)

SITUATIONS 45

DECISIONS Do I continue to die?

Or choose to really live today?

Walk around mindlessly?

Or think with grace and logic?

Believe the media’s hidden lies?

Or seek the answers that lie within?

Will I spend all my days regretting poor choices?

Or learn from my mistakes?

Give unconditional love?

Or abrogate that love to those I love the most?

Place blame on others and hold grudges for a lifetime?

Or accept responsibility for my own actions?

Go the distance and triumph?

Or fall short and ultimately fail?

Let madness engulf and deconstruct me?

Or fortify myself by embracing and defending truth?

On and on, and on, and on it goes...

The decisions you make will shape the moments you have.

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse)

UNTITLED I’m the scent of her home cooking wafting down the hallway.

I’m the nuts...no, the hot fudge drizzling down the side of that sundae.

I’m the one, oh-so-elusive Cracker Jack prize.

I’m that shimmering sparkle in the corner of Momma’s eyes.

I’m the cream on top... or the fruit at the bottom.

I’m when you see all the good things in a person and your lover’s the one that got ‘em.

I’m the feeling you get when your baby gives your finger a tug.

I’m that fresh foam, Friday night, at the top of your beer mug.

Oh yeah, these are but a few of the good things I can sometimes be, but today, I’m just me.

Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse)

SITUATIONS 47

ASC’s Creative Writing Workshop provides a forum for creative expression, healing, and hope for people affected by HIV/AIDS. For more information, visit ASC’s website, www.ascnyc.org, or call 212-645-0875.

helping many, one by one AIDS Service Center NYC 41 East 11th St., New York, NY 10003 (212)645-0875

fax 645-0705

www.ascnyc.org