Situations 18

Situations 18 SPRING 2016

Writings from the ASCNYC Creative Writing Workshop

Situations 18 Situations is a literary magazine containing the writings of participants in the Creative Writing Workshop at ASCNYC. The ASCNYC Creative Writing Workshop promotes medication adherence, stress reduction, sustained recovery from substance abuse, and healthy behaviors by offering a forum for self-awareness, social engagement, empowerment, and self-expression among persons living with and affected by HIV/AIDS and other chronic illnesses.

The ASCNYC Creative Writing Workshop is funded by 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 (CDC) and the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA). ASCNYC extends its thanks to each of these funding sources for demonstrating the vision and commitment to support creative programming.

Celebrating its 25 year in 2016, ASCNYC promotes Positive Change for New Yorkers seeking health, recovery, and a better future as they navigate life with HIV and other chronic health conditions. At ASCNYC, Positive Change takes many forms. We help our clients overcome addiction, access medical care to get their health back on track, escape homelessness, rejoin the world of work, replace isolation with community, and lead healthier and more self-sufficient lives.

ASCNYC has six community service sites in Midtown Manhattan, Washington Heights, East Harlem, the Lower East Side, and the Bronx. ASCNYC’s services are free, confidential, and offered in English, Spanish and French/Haitian Creole.

Copyright © 2016 ASCNYC, 64 West 35th Street, 3rd Floor, New York, NY 10001 All rights revert to the authors upon publication.

Situations Editor: Gerry Gomez Pearlberg Publication Design & Origami: Talo Kawasaki Origami Butterfly Creator: Michael LaFosse Author Photos: David Nager ASCNYC Poetry Leaders: Rosa Velez, Azeem S. Khan, monté, and Steve Lewis ASCNYC Program Liaison: Ramona Cummings ASCNYC Executive Director/CEO: Sharen I. Duke Special thanks to: Brooke Brailey and Rosie Whiteside

Contents Introduction…………………………………………………...……4 Poems by Harriet McNeill (a.k.a. Star Heed)………………....…5 Poems by Rosa Velez....................................................................7 Poems by Tea For Me (Airline)……………………………….....…9 Poems by Reginald C. Pulliam……………………………………11 Poem by i.a…………………………………………………………13 Poems by Robert James………………………………………...…14 Poems by Luther Jarman……………………………………….…16 Poems by Steve Lewis (a.k.a. Latin Gorilla)………………...…18 Poems by “E” (a.k.a. EROBOS)………………………...………..19 Poems by Lois Rodriguez…………………………………………20 Poem by John Alexis Cooper………………………………....…..22 Poems by Clive Ruddock……………………………………….…23 Poems by Sharon Guyton………………………………………...25 Poems by Miguel Angel Class……………………………………26 Poems by Azeem S. Khan…………………………………………28 Poems by Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis………………………...…30 Poems by monté........................................................................32 Poems by Dennis Martin…………………………………….……34

Introduction “Creative writing is a rush of pure energy and inspiration.”

–Rosa Velez, ASCNYC Poetry Leader ASCNYC launched its weekly creative writing group in 2000, and—amazingly— this group has met nearly every Thursday since. Thousands of poems written.

Fresh insights generated. New possibilities considered. Isolation replaced by community. Silence erased by self-expression.

It was a joy to lead this group for 14 of its 16 years. Watching it transform into a fully peer-led enterprise over the past two years has been an equally profound delight—proof of the group’s enormous success in changing lives.

With generous long-term support from the Phil Zwickler Charitable and Memorial Foundation Trust, ASCNYC’s Poetry Leadership Program trains workshop participants to take over leadership of the classes. Here’s what some of our Poetry Leaders say about the experience: monté: “Being a Poetry Leader allows me to be an integral part of ASCNYC’s idea of Positive Change. I love it when the participants get that light bulb over their heads and their pens won’t stop. My pride blossoms when newcomers keep coming back for more, week after week. As a Poetry Leader, I get to open minds, views, and sometimes a heart or two.”

Rosa: “I never knew writing could be so healing! Through poetry, we express our fears, losses, pain, and love. We learn to see in new ways through a simple pen and paper. By writing poetry, we touch each other’s lives, face our demons, and transform our thinking. It is amazing how a poetry group can change so many.”

Azeem: “Being a Poetry Leader means I get to see others blossom the way I blossomed in this group. I see people like lotus flowers, buried in the mud of their despair. In time, through the workshop, they push through the mud, through the water, through the waves—until they finally see the sunlight. For me, and for everyone in the group, poetry is a form of therapy.”

This issue of Situations is tangible proof of the power of poetry and ASCNYC’s long-running, peer-led Creative Writing Workshop. It is also a testimony to the phenomenal impact of ASCNYC’s work—25 years and going strong!

Thank you for your continued support!

Gerry Gomez Pearlberg

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Poems by

Harriet McNeill (a.k.a. Star Heed)

WHY, WHY NOT Why do I hurt others?

Why not?

Because when I hurt I want others to feel my pain Why do I take things?

Why not?

Because when I take I want others to know I am in need Why do I do what I do?

Why not?

Because when I do things (bad and good) I want others to see who I am inside Why do I talk always?

Why not?

Because when I talk I want others to hear that I have feelings too!

And why do I laugh, smile, and joke?

Why not?

Because when I do these things I want others to know, see, and understand that I am alive, happy, and free within my past, present, and future today!

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Poems by

Harriet McNeill (a.k.a. Star Heed)

HAPPY TIMES AND COCAINE RHYMES Happy times and cocaine rhymes What it was like?

High-go-seek and baby-back ribs Coming out at me after I took that hit Damn, it was good.

Happy times and cocaine rhymes Happens to be like Running in a park at dusk Only to come out to cop that first hit Every 15 minutes Damn, I hate the sunlight in my eyes.

I am the Israel of stillness, quietness, and peace

Happy times and cocaine rhymes Hoped to be like Fun, fun, fun and plain ducking good times After coming out to see How bad hits look and smell like on me Damn, I’m tired of chasing this dragon pipe.

I am the Jordan River that overflows with love, liberty, and justice

Happy times and cocaine rhymes What is it like now?

Happy times with no cocaine rhymes Having fun in the sun, laughing Playing high-go-seek on life’s merry-go-round.

Who am I? I was created to be a blessed, beautiful Black woman and that I am today, tomorrow, and forever sober, strong, and free

Barbecuing baby-back ribs And playing with the kids on the block Why? Because…

Today my cocaine rhymes Are replaced with Good cheers and Godly happy hits Thank you, Jesus For the good and bad times With my cocaine hits I am happy now That I made it Through my drug war skits.

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I AM WHO I AM

Situations 18

I am the Jerusalem that is filled with precious stones, rubies, and gems

I am the wonderful being that God made me to be a happy individual

I am who I am who I am is who I am a lovely, lively, and lovable woman which means I am not loveless, lifeless, worthless, or hopeless In fact, I am a happy, hopeful, useful gem in this world of mine and yours

Poems by

Rosa Velez

THE AWAKENED HEART

LOVE SONG

The awakened heart covered, protected, frozen almost as hard as a block of ice

Like a bird that sings early in the day Late at evening, and at dusk, I open my wings to let the summer breeze embrace me— My cheeks flushed with emotion My heart knocking at your door My eyes glistening with dizziness What is this thing called love?

Love, love, love— such a silly emotion, such an exciting emotion, feeling the rush in my veins

Slowly—it’s beating slowly it’s awakening trying to find rhythm trying to find peace in her womb of cobwebs No child can survive within this womb for darkness, coldness exists Yet how can we protect and keep this child warm when cobwebs cover her head?

Cobwebs, frozen as icicles, shield her surroundings

The pounding in my heart Love, love, love— such a silly emotion, but if you don’t open up your heart your life won’t have any song.

Aahhh—love— Sing to me again!

A seed— A little flicker tries to break free from the concrete of her heart a light has entered, her soul is burning with passion.

She stops…panics…and then she gives in.

The awakened heart

sleeps no more.

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Poems by

Rosa Velez

CONSIDER A CHANGE

AN ANGEL FROM ABOVE

Consider a change If you wake up one morning and your legs feel numb and you ain’t feeling life anymore.

As a guide from beyond you sent me this virus…

I thought I’d curse the world, my partner myself for not knowing any better.

Consider a change If you try to sleep and your sleep is your self constantly awake, eyes…shut, wide open.

Consider a change if the sun passed your home this morning and darkness decided to move into your “living room.”

Consider a change if your friends reminded you to live…

You took it for granted, and you didn’t wake up this morning…

Life is a gift.

Consider a change.

But then my son was also sent this virus through my placenta…

God filtered your illness.

He sent you strength, courage love compassion— He sent me…

A reason to live For I thought I’d give up on life.

My dad was also dying of this disease.

But no, as an Angel from above, You saved me.

As your Mom, I had to fight back.

You were born against all odds, and for this, I had to live, against all odds.

You are the reason I live.

Thank you for the blessing of hope.

Thank you for the blessing of you.

I love you, my son.

My Angel from above.

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Poems by

Tea For Me (Airline) ADVOCATE Tell someone something Do something Make it happen Keep it going as far as you can Tell someone everything There is to tell Be a part of a mass movement Go all the way Say something Don’t be afraid to be a man…

Advocates don’t wait Do something now Before it’s too late Make a stand for all of us who’ve seen too much…

Advocate Don’t wait

SUNDANCE As long as the memory is still here, we will have the essence of longing speaking to each other all through yesterday’s solace, a place where we have all been, under the sun, amongst the thorns, between the big, beautiful sun rays as they do their sundance against the meadow reaching out to caress you and I together, looking away to see yet another song in the sky—Sundance

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Poems by

Tea For Me (Airline)

A LOVE 4 ME Of course there is a love a love for me, a love so wonderful only the heart can see.

Will I love until eternity?

Will I love until the world can see that there is love, a love for me… a love just for me?

JUST BEING ME Sitting on the porch, just looking out at the grassy knoll, I see a family of butterflies flying in circles above a sunflower…

Oh, I wish I could be that lovely sunflower basking in the beautiful rays of the morning sun, feeling the soft morning breeze blowing through my petals as I feel the warm earth around my feet.

As the family of butterflies sing love songs around my head, Oh, the beauty of it all!

Just being able to enjoy life and to enjoy all that life has to offer me— and all that I have to offer, just being me.

YESTERDAY’S PROMISE Oh my love, how I’ve yearned to hear your soft voice whispering to me again— yesterday’s promise.

As we sit together under the moon’s light listening to our hearts beat as one, loving life, feeling as one mind, one soul, one breath melting together under the night’s wondrous glow…

Yesterday’s promise, a new beginning, a new dawn, a new chance at love, at life, at sweet memories in today’s reality, awoken in yesterday’s promise.

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Poems by

Reginald C. Pulliam

I RISE From yesterday, I rise and I rise, only to fall again and again From today, I fall and fall, only to rise and rise again For every yesterday, where I rise and every today where I fall…

I look to a new tomorrow with new eyes to see new crevices, new pitfalls, new dangers, and so: I shall continue to rise and fall and rise and rise again

THE STONE Can a stone speak, speak, speak?

Flowing magma doesn’t leak, leak, leak.

No, it flows like the river, deep, deep, deep.

But where does it go and what does it seek, seek, seek?

Can a stone that once flowed sing, sing, sing?

What is its purpose, what does it bring, bring, bring?

Can a rock, once Jello make me a merry fellow?

Can a diamond, once coal bring me back to the fold?

So I ask with great desire can a stone bring back my fire?

There is a Rock, hewn so true.

That Rock is Jesus. He speaks to me and he speaks to you!

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Poems by

Reginald C. Pulliam

PAIN? Unendurable pain…

Can I let it go?

Unendurable shame…

Mustn’t let it show.

Unendurable hurt Will it lessen in the by and by???

Unendurable sorrow Perhaps I’ll do it, perhaps I’ll cry.

Unendurable life…

Pain shared is pain lessened.

Unimaginable journey…

Somehow I’ve learned this sojourn’s lesson.

Indescribable joy…

Through the arch of pain endured.

Immeasurable happiness…cascading over the slope Begins with pain unendurable, yet full of hope

THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY Inspired by “My Father’s Love Letters”

by Yusef Komunyakaa

Friday was my day, forget you day, Indulge me day.

Never did I reflect day, became a cry day for wife & kids day.

Never home day, with someone else day, lascivious passions day.

Thank God for Friday.

It’s by and by day, time to sigh day.

Thank God it’s Friday, made my peace day I can fly day.

Now it’s Friday, not get high day, not regret day.

Now I rise day…Yes… It’s Friday!!!

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Situations 18

U in admitting to being human u analyze the stages of your life & the painful loss of closeness

Poem by

u lose by leaving & being left by letting go & moving on by separations & departures & your conscious & unconscious loss of romantic dreams tells your ♥ that u are here on your own that u have 2 accept the flaws in the human connection

i.a.

confronting your dreams & detaching from others that all u will never have & never will be your past wishes & passions inhabit your present & that energy outside of your awareness shapes your life & hope begins it is not impossible 2 do things differently 2 take it out & 2 look at it your love for that person will always be live it forgive yourself transfer the past & understand that it is effortless 2 undo 2 rewrite lay 2 rest those ghosts that all you’ve ever wanted was 2 love & be loved your urge was for union & creation essentially what we must of necessity lose use them 2 express yourself something u dare not wish for it is forbidden & impossible 2 merge & separate 2 be close & alone 2 look at this & live through pain assess yourself & the reality something that is actually there recognize that this image is a memory in your mind not a presence in your bedroom

accept its terms its limitations & flaws reality now cannot offer u unconditional love no special treatment or absolute control u ask 2 much from people u love & u ask 2 much from yourself now take x learn 2 balance your dreams & your realities the illusions, the unconscious vision of how things should’ve been this heartless person has proven so all u wanted was 2 be talked 2 2 know how he felt 2 take off his mask & be vulnerable all u wanted was 2 walk under the stars & ride 2 the moon 2 bow 2 love’s limits & fragilities so now u mourn a coming-apart friendship facing the loss of what we once had

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Poems by

Robert James FANTASY Before I leap, I look.

The water is like a sheet in the wind, held by creatures.

It’s like you are in a cartoon when the water is so clear that you can see your body in the water with multi-colored fish, you can walk in the water and nobody bothers you and you feel free.

It feels and looks beautiful.

It’s like a fantasy.

WHAT LIFE HAS TAUGHT ME Life has taught me to deal with life and to survive in the streets to look out for yourself.

When I grew up, it was hard for me.

When I was 18 years old, I started to make my own money to survive out in the streets and also to take care of my mother.

At that time, I always kept to myself just to avoid trouble and the attitude that people have out here.

But basically in life, this is it: “Life’s a bitch out here.

You just know and learn to survive out here.”

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Situations 18

RIDING ON THE TRAIN When you’re riding on any train going to your destination, you are watching who’s on the train, what they are wearing, who’s getting on…if they are playing music, if they are dancing, if they are panhandling.

Some come on the train with their pets.

You see homeless people sleeping.

You see people drinking or going between the cars, smoking.

You see mothers with their children crying when you are riding on the train every day.

It’s like an episode: “Riding To Get To Your Destination.”

EVERY MORNING Every morning when I wake up I try to be in a good mood.

Sometimes I am depressed.

Sometimes I am in my own world.

I get along with people that I can talk to, laugh and joke around with them.

But at times, I like being by myself to think things out, listen to my music.

At times, I like to do positive and good things like volunteer to work in soup kitchens to occupy my time during the day.

Then I go home to watch some TV or listen to some music, and call it a day.

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Poems by

Luther Jarman WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS Rich people had sidewalks Poor people the dirt roads The doves and hawks People carrying a heavy load Dark clouds and black smoke from the garbage dump A bullfrog sitting on a hollow stump The tar baby and the Klan sheets Tell me where heaven and hell meets?

The pigeon, nasty and rude The red bird looking for his food Fresh gingerbread blowing in the air Crack-heads living without a care Rich people had sidewalks Poor people the dirt road The doves and hawks People carrying a heavy load Lord, forgive me of my sins and let the sidewalk end

THIS OLD HOUSE OF MINE This old house of mine Needs repairing all the time It’s one of a kind Rare and hard to find I didn’t come from good stock But I built my house on the rock I don’t build my house on sand Because I am a soul man And on trust I stand This old house of mine Needs repairing all the time It’s one of a kind Rare and hard to find This old house of mine

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Situations 18

THINGS TO THINK!

LEOPARD LADY

Think about the best Not the worst Think about being a blessing Not a curse Think about the good Not the bad Think about being happy Not being sad Think about winning Not losing Think about staying sober And not boozing Think about love And not hate Good things come to those that wait

Can a black man change the color of his skin?

Or a leopard change its spots?

O Leopard Lady, you are so sexy and hot.

You fly like a bat.

You move like a cat.

Cat-woman ain’t got nothing on you!

You’re so sweet, so loving, so true.

Leopard Lady, I love you!

BRONX BLUES 50 years ago In Cincinnati, Ohio If you told me I would be 62 Dealing with the Bronx Blues I would say, No way, José!

I got the Bronx Blues on a snowy day.

I say: I got the Bronx Blues on a snowy day.

Oh! How I wish the Bronx Blues would go away.

62, paying my dues.

Dealing with the Bronx Blues.

62, paying my dues.

Dealing with the Bronx Blues.

62, paying my dues.

Dealing with the Bronx Blues.

YEAH! Situations 18

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Poems by

Steve Lewis (a.k.a. Latin Gorilla) TASTE How may I describe God’s greatest creation?

The first time our eyes met you cut me with a bitter look.

A sour taste filled my mouth, wondering what could be so salty.

I cursed you yesterday, but I pledge to Him and His grace to bring a sweet, sparkling smile to your face on our departure.

And if I had a wish…

I wish to taste your nectar, or better yet, O Mami, from your lips.

IS THERE AN ANGEL IN MY CORNER? I write to my soul… nightmares, cries due to recklessness my yesteryears, the jinn whispers in my ear (whasa whasa), Sleep, be at rest. You’ll bump your head when you come from rest.

I can’t shake him off, for he’s stronger than ever.

I “dicker.” Odu bella heam mina saton areejeem.

Lord, I seek refuge from Satan…

Am keeping me on the straight and narrow path.

I toss and turn in my dream. But my dream nightmares.

I’m running, dodging my fear…

My future of succeeding is chasing me.

My pillow is folded with the grains of salt, the cascade out my windows of life.

They say the devil is a liar.

But the guy who rewrote the Bible was a bigger one.

With my last breath, I submit, and all I ask: Is there an angel in my corner?

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Poems by

“E” (a.k.a. EROBOS) 2/5/14; 10:18hrs “HOPE” AFTER “G” To hope is to wish. To wish is to desire. To desire is to dream. Hope springs eternal. Hope consists of doing nothing but sewing wishes and desires on a quilt of dreams. Most people love hope as it requires no effort. Hope does not need to work in order to become reality.

‘Keep Hope Alive.’ It’s like eating a piece of cake, it tastes wonderful, but it has no nutrition and no substance. Hope is for inspiration, yet hope is not a strategy. It not a plan of action.

Hope is a feel good drug where the emotions are spoon fed, then pumped up by resounding speeches, promises of a brighter future, ‘we are all one people, in one country’ and all the rest of it. Hope is to be the spark that ignites a belly full of fire that moves the engine of the body. Hope without action is like starting a car but not driving it, keeping the engine on idle, thinking about where to go, but not actually going anywhere. The reality is, everyone can do something, no matter how small it is...I hope this message reaches you..... fin-2-4-16

5/28/15; 10:18hrs “TO BE KIND” If life has been cruel to me...if my life has been choc full of abuse, violence, torture through isolation, compliance via starvation...if my life has been a backhanded compliment, tasting the sting of aggression, snatching away fleeting happiness with a split lip and a mouth full of blood... then, to end such a life...to actualize the ownership; the awesome responsibility; the power of choice...the power to end such a life[!] may be the most accessible kindness available...to SelfTerminate may be the most authentic, true power I have...the drugs available today can ensure a painless transition...no supposed supernatural, religious, spiritual deity can dare challenge me!... they simply wouldn’t have the right...my rebuttal to their line of questioning, would be the tragic evidence of what was my reality...I owe them no explanation...to be sure, I could just as easily take out my pain and frustration on others...many killers and rapists, and rapists who are killers, will tell anyone who would lend an ear; that it’s not so much about the sex, as it is about the power and absolute control over another human being...it has been said, that the most potent aphrodisiac...the most powerful of turn-ons, is to totally dominate another person...where is the kindness in unnecessary, limitless, suffering?...nay, it is a true hero that takes themselves out of the equation, rather than keep playing at life at everyone else’s expense...I am practicing kindness today and I don’t even know what kindness is....

5-28-15; 10:59hrs

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Poems by

Lois Rodriguez

STILL, INSIDE I remember asking, so why don’t you?!

The shyness, insecurity held me back.

Then I heard: you have a voice, but again— the doubts pushed it away.

Yet somewhere within (a whisper): “Search inside!”

Again and again, many things passed me by.

New experiences, other pains, different setbacks.

Thoughts struggling with thoughts.

But I heard it again: (whisper): “Search! Search inside!”

So now, in this stage and age—having to face another battle—to overturn?

So, I search inside. (I whisper:) “Are you still there?”

Yes! I want to live. I want to give what’s inside.

Now? Yes now. Give it away!

It whispers, but it’s getting louder. It’s still inside.

I’m so glad it never went away.

I can hear it. Can you? It’s all around us, it’s talking to us. Listen: It’s HOPE! So write it, say it! Search inside and never let it go— it’s there (still), it’s HOPE. Hope. (Whispers.)

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JUST A TIME Life has a time for everything.

Emotions, feelings of triumph and defeat.

A time for everything…

Whether you choose them or not, situations will come.

May we accept them? Can we let go?

Each day has its own evil. For now, let’s focus on today.

If can be a new day, better experiences.

Take the chance, accept good things.

Life has a time for everything.

Past secrets and struggling temptations— they come and they go.

Yet don’t let the pains be a permanent guest.

There’s always room for some joy!

You see, Life has a time for everything.

Be grateful, yes, even for the bad, for all is momentary, and can be a guide for growing maturity.

We will learn from our experiences, invited or not—it’s the matrix of Life, it has a time for everything!

LET ME SEE… So, is everything just as it seems?

Yes, the eyes can see yet be deceived.

Its wisdom so much in need for choices, for seeking and having.

And how do we nourish our hearts when others would poison it?

To surrender it, and not fall into some labyrinth?!

So guard it, guard the heart, more than anything— for everything is not what it seems!

Yes, guard it without hardening it.

What you put in it will surely emanate.

So, be awakened! Be a light and flourish.

Yes, heart, give: LIFE! Its wisdom so much in need!

For choices, for seeking and having.

Let your heart lead, but do proceed with tender precaution. You see, everything is not what it seems!

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Poem by

John Alexis Cooper I’M AN ABOMINATION I’m an abomination that has nothing to lose when I hit, but have everything to win when I do.

I’m an abomination with a black, stormy cloud over my head, with thunder, lightning, and rain in the daylight, just for all of u.

I’m an abomination from the cradle to the grave, from the womb to the tomb.

I’m an abomination all my life long, from me to you.

It’s like a breath of air in space and land and the Milky Way— this is the best gift from the darkest corners of Hell in the name of Jesus, I did not do this for me, this is the devil’s apology for being bad all this time, I just say “thank you.”

I’m an abomination in airspace, for God can have his right-hand man back in his life before that idiotic time of war.

I’m an abomination and Hell is all mine for the cultivations of making Hell a place like Heaven, this will even out their score.

I’m an abomination, all out here in airspace, having fun scaring you with the truth.

I’m an abomination letting you all know how true this is…what we are, outside bright-eyed, beautiful and bushy-tailed. Guess what?

Inside, we are uglier than sin.

Don’t believe me? Ask the youth.

I’m an abomination.

This one fact about my footprints in life, I must share.

I’m an abomination, in the name of Jesus I must confess I looked in a mirror on the fly. I must say what I saw.

Damn. Now I’m scared.

I’m an abomination, if this is my choice to be in life, just let it be and with each other there shall be no strife.

I’m an abomination.

My reason for this is that you must crawl before you walk.

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Poems by

Clive Ruddock

THIS MISTAKE They say I was a mistake Not meant to be But mistakes are sometimes bad and sometimes good If I was not born, who would plant the seed That gave birth to my son and daughter To give to those in need?

To carry on the family name To be part of the human game To teach, to give, to receive To smile, to cry, and to grieve This mistake shall live long With every breath to sing a new song Peace is mine, I shall hold dear This “mistake” I am, this veil of peace I shall forever wear.

TODAY Today I rise to see the good that lies within me.

With the sun as my guide, the darkness I set aside.

To show love on this day, not worrying what others say.

I will follow my heart’s desire, and understand what it requires.

For on this day of new, I will soar as the eagle that flew.

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Poems by

Clive Ruddock

THANKSGIVING MEAL This is the time of year that I look forward to, knowing that I will be eating all the tasty foods that Mother makes. We arrive at her home about one in the afternoon—me, my wife and three kids in tow. Walking up the walkway to her house, we could smell the aroma of different foods cooking. My oldest son ran to the door—Grandma! Grandma! he shouted. She opened the door, dressed in her kitchen outfit, apron and all. Come in! Come in! she said. We entered the house and immediately headed for the kitchen. What are we having this year, Mom? I asked. Look on the table, she said. There was the golden-brown turkey, already done. The smell was making me hungry. There were also pots with oxtails, curry goat, BBQ chicken, roast chicken, stewed beef, pork shoulder, sweet yams, collard greens, and lots of cakes and pies. She shouted, Don’t touch anything! I am not done! That didn’t stop me, I tasted anyway. My taste buds immediately woke up.

Mom’s dinners were always perfect.

She really outdid herself this year.

Thank you, Mom.

THE WAY The track through life has been turns It winds and it bends Too many curves, too many corners I can see the straight path, nothing in my way Oh, here comes another curve What’s around the corner, I can’t see.

Better slow down, don’t wanna crash.

Sometimes it is dark, sometimes it is bright.

Someone lend me a candle to see my way.

Oh, good—there is nothing there, only rubbish.

This I don’t need, I can pass it by.

My stop will come soon, I hope.

For this ride of life is filled with hope.

I will ride all the way, For the end of this shall come one day.

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Poems by

Sharon Guyton

LET FREEDOM RING My country, tears of thee Land where my fathers died Let freedom ring Where the ones who didn’t feel the pain…

A lot who did—gagged and shackled—they felt the pain.

Let freedom ring.

OBJECTS One of the items felt like I touched a pair of glasses.

This item feels so hard, yet shines.

This is something that I would like to wear on a sunny day.

The other object feels like a stuffed doll, fluffy, full of fun, you can squeeze it.

I just like holding it.

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Poems by

Miguel Angel Class

1ST AMENDMENT Freely they talk Freely they speak They are speaking to you They are speaking to me With CDs, DVDs, TV and MP3s Words are the seed Pictures planted painted ideas indeed I gave you my canvas I entrusted you with me Whoa to me a starry night Painted unexpectedly on the canvas of creativity The Creator told me Your words matter to me Whether you eat good or bad fruit from a tree Crucified for the world’s sin That’s how they welcomed me in The paint thinner my blood Redeems you to see Life lived eternally, with me I am the King of Kings Above all created things I put purpose in your spirit It’s a whisper—listen and you’ll hear it .

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TRUTH HAS STUMBLED IN THE STREETS Truth has stumbled in the streets.

Is anyone concerned that He has fallen?

Will anyone pick him up?

Or did we not want him to begin with?

For he shook up the world of Opinions.

A narrow mind wasn’t politically correct.

The proud did not speak so meek.

Their insecurities spoke arrogantly.

Their hate of truth led to insanity.

Insane because The Truth loved itself.

No inconsistency found in him or contradiction.

For He is the rock and not sandy variations.

Some are resistant, although Truth is consistent.

VESSEL Meticulously formed out of the dust of the earth Shall I function or malfunction?

Functionality is purposeful reality Eyes wide open no need for smoking An ideology is manifested for all to see God came in person To personally speak Relatable and meant for the recipient Considerate, loving and patient He speaks to the illiterate and lame The rejected and estranged The individual, ostracized and alienated Persecuted and hated My heart rejoices at the right A light to those in darkness Groping along the walls of reality Feeling my way through, like a man without eyes In the darkness of misunderstanding, hope as a flickering light is burning brighter The dark reality has now become lighter.

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Poems by

Azeem S. Khan THE LUCK OF A FOOL OR THE ROLL OF A DICE Dedicated to my influential mentor, Desiree Edghill (Guyanese actress and HIV/AIDS activist)

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For whatever brought me into the parking lot that night.

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For seeing more in me than I could see in myself.

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For dreaming a dream that was bigger than I could dream for myself.

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For making those dreams come to life.

The luck of a fool Or the roll of a dice For opening your heart to my family and making them part of your life.

Thank You Desiree Edghill May your star always shine bright For you are the luck that God sent into this fool’s life.

GREEN The more I live, the more I see The inhumanity in a humane society The struggle you have struggled, now you are on top, Not paying it forward or looking back Talk is cheap And your mouth is on sale Planning the faith of others Counting dollar by dollar Stories like snowflakes, each different but ice at the core.

The sins you sow will be reaped.

By you? Or the children?

Only he can decide.

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ETERNAL Hope springs eternal As my heart continues to search For colors that complement each other And now the canvas is ours.

The Fathers hug.

We switch sides.

The generations celebrate well into the night, under festive moonlight.

Life is now ours, as we redefine traditions and live in the unity of our colors.

I arose, and hope springs eternal.

TREE O that Tree In its glory days!

One of nature’s creations to see Its MIGHT, Its BEAUTY, Its MAJESTY. Those leaves once created its Shade, Inspiration, Comfort.

Those flowers once created its Beauty, Fragrance, Colors The leaves have all withered, the flowers have all bloomed And now the night falls But something beautiful remains, The memories of that Tree.

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Poems by

Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis

SOON THE CLEARING There is temporary unrest inside my mind I am neither up or down. I am snug awaiting the clearing.

My room holds great view, and I’m free thinking Looking out at blue skies, barren trees, and breeze without the clearing.

The morning invites calm, and the minutes fade fast And though my heart feels sore, I still strive to love the clearing.

The bulk of energies I share should allot me good Only a fool follows a heart wavering and wandering from the clearing.

It doesn’t take me long to recognize true passion But take away my pen, books, reading glasses, and still, I’ll await the clearing.

HOW MINUTE A MOMENT PACKED WITH MIGHT

APRIL AND MOTHER EARTH

Choice, fair or foul, lays wait in a moment

April is thirty And fierce as Niagara She whets our palate For spring fling with nature She shows us we are one.

Free will is in the moment Stillness is in the moment Later and tomorrow is in the moment Courage is in the moment Complacency is in the moment Tenacity and intrepidness is in the moment History, mystery, and strength is in the moment Pain and blame is in the moment Sin’s built-in consequence is in the moment Room for remorse is in the moment Humor and innocence is in the moment Clarity and conformity is in the moment Your summit of pure joy is in the moment

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HAIKU If you can think, write If you don’t drink, drive If you don’t drug, right on Writing— Excavation of the mind For gems He drank and sang songs And drummed on dashboard of car Then fell dead at noon Intoxicated With his new love he jumped ship And kicked addiction My drug of choice is: The Word and my will to live Filled with gratitude One branch of my tree Handed a message to me: “Life can be renewed.”

Our mind is gateway To heaven or hell on earth And that is final

AMID THE LUXURY OF NOW It is prelude to spring.

The honey and I are basking On sundeck, in mid-March, warm breeze.

He’s reading King James, “Genesis to Revelation.”

I sit reading “Trick of the Eye.” It’s captivating.

Pine trees rustle in the wind.

Squirrels I see frolicking.

I pause for birds singing.

The innocent voice of a child across fences is welcoming.

In this military town of revolving doors The sound of a barking dog, too, is welcoming.

I think to myself, “How sad those years I lived half-blind.”

I could now bask on verandah, overlooking calm Caribbean waters Or dwell in cemented home on top floor with panoramic view Overlooking city of antiquity, now tourist town Or own many mansions, furnished, surrounded by trees and sea.

Then, just like that: warm breeze, with rustling pine Dished nostalgia back to me, I heard, “Amidst the luxury of now, to bygone Buried years, you’d bow?”

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Poems by

monté WHEN I DIE

SIMPLY

I want to know that it’s over and that I have no regrets

I write because I must A form of gaining your trust I sketch the feelings we feel I paint the sensations so real I can take you on a journey from here to then And tell you how it was when

When I die I hope it’s peaceful accepting surrendering to serenity When I die I hope for enlightenment I hope that everything will be revealed all difficulties made simple And when I die... don’t worry Might I make a suggestion— someone donating a Persian rug so I may be wrapped and discarded comfortably And when I die a block party on every other block in the city my favorite DJs spinning all my favorites nonstop for a week with people dancing on the blocks and socializing on every other block My friends meeting each other some for the first time ...when I die.

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It’s a gift my muse constantly sends My hope is that it never ends..

Simply

YEAH, YEAH, YEAH....

GETTING OLDER

In December of this year I will celebrate 30 years since my diagnosis of AIDS

“Love’s abandoned me Love don’t live here anymore”

30 years quite an accomplishment At times I have felt like the leper who has been cured like Lazarus raised again 30 years, it’s a wonderful thing But...

Nobody talks about the loneliness Nobody talks about the ravages of the disease Let me be the one to tell you

Sometimes I think a love interest other than my teaching writing and performing would be good for the old man a boost in morale a reason to improve.

But until it comes I will be my own boost My own reason to improve and hope that love shows its face one more time.

I am 63 years of age now not a commodity in the dating market Scars from bouts with Folliculitis have lowered my self-esteem nobody talks about the loneliness Sometimes I just want to be held...

I’d love to see that spark that excitement that reaction from somebody???

Ohhh...

Does living this long mean I’ll never be intimate with someone again?

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Poems by

Dennis Martin

NEVER STOP

THIS TIME AROUND

I will never stop This time around things will be different I did not let HIV stop me A new start for me From being me Again, I’m grateful I will never stop But this time around I won’t let the stigma of HIV I know what not to do, what not to say Make me hide This time around Not anymore I will make sure to put myself first I won’t give in to the saying To know my value That I can’t To believe in me I know I can I didn’t let drugs and alcohol Take me all the way down I even thought— I thought it was the end I still have the light in me I did not let my relapse stop me From becoming the man that I am meant to become In the voice of Miss Joyce, “You can’t take me down.

I will never stop.”

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MOM

DAD

If she should leave me I would be all alone The only true friend I’ve ever had Or ever known The only one that really cares No matter what

But Dad, you can go I don’t want no more Cocaine No more jokes

If I lost you I would lose my mind Lose all sense of time No need to live That’s how I would feel If I lost you, Mom

It has become more than Clear That with you in my life now It’s like you’re still not here anyway Never supported me Only supplied me With unwanted hardware

POSITIVE CHANGE When I think now I think so much more…

Different than what I did before A Positive Change When I talk to people I never met before I am more understanding…

Much more than I was before When I open my mouth, I think before I speak A Positive Change has been made in me And The change in me is clear to see ASCNYC has made a change in me But there is still more Positive Change in me

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64 West 35th Street, 3rd Floor New York, NY 10001 212.645.0875 www.ascnyc.org

Celebrating its 25 year in 2016, ASCNYC promotes Positive Change for New Yorkers seeking health, recovery, and a better future as they navigate life with HIV and other chronic health conditions. We help our clients overcome addiction, access medical care to get their health back on track, escape homelessness, rejoin the world of work, replace isolation with community, and lead healthier and more self-sufficient lives.