12/17/13, 12:31 PM

today, our Fearless Leader Leilani Squire of Returning Soldiers Speak, led 7 of us Veterans in the deeper side of things, as usual. i loved all of the free writing we did today, and am lucky to be a part of this group which is both healing and in a way liberating, as i am becoming more free in our uncensored group – here is the poem i wrote today

fear of translation ⟪is it the tool of dealing with Anxiety?

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i high on the convoluting ground

taking all this in my head

with my lungs on the ground

and choking hacking it fucking out

to the headache sitting in my head

from sage burning my nose and lungs

gone from the door when i first stepped in

did i run run run the fuck out the door,

excuse to get some water

a hanky for over the mouth

i did not find

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but consoling of the fucked head

in the air, by a Veteran too,

perhaps been there

no need to say

done that…

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take off your hat

and what the fuck does that mean

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goddam, goddamned U, and goddamned it

what the fuck does that mean

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the woman who barged her way in front of me

i love to give courtesy to women, but not those who want to take it

and to hell with the feminist bullshit that don’t exist anyway

just for convenience

and what the fuck does that mean

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and love for the power of a woman who is in the balance

the yin and yang, the cold for the train

we are in the pinch and lack for the gain

knowledge leading to intelligence stifled from lips that dare not to say a damned thing

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and i am singing this song too at times,

i have a limited time when i open my mouth

and i hope i do when it is the important things that need to be spoken about

and what the fuck does that mean

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it is christmas time and my head spins,

and i can’t even think to get in,

and what the fuck does that mean,

when it is that my fucked sense of being is going back and forth from when they murdered me –

and i am now back to the Veterans Writing workshop,

thank U Joe Palesano,

no really thank U, because  i was a bit too deep and gone to that very emotional side,

the real side,

the side of the fear of translation,

because i know the fear of translation is an emotional state of knowing goddamned well when it is that there are those who get away with crimes,

and they chime in as if they were saints,

and celebrating this Christian celebration,

all happy and gleefully, as if they are white as snow

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and what the fuck does that mean

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in the fear of translation,

it means that the bastards of truth

 for wanting no exposure, put on their masks so tight,

it looks as if though that shit could never peel off,

and so pristine and clean as if there is no dirt up their nose that they snubbed you and me with

– in the continual heap of shit that they are piling to the sky

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and i am not a saint,

oh wait, i am,

did the cussing, and desire for a sexy muse to fuck me to the point of not being so tense but loose to the point of creativity for once in my life had absolutely no barriers,

no boundaries, no what the fuck is that word, U know, when you use drugs, or when U are full on

hedonistic

 you have no inhibitions, you lose your inhibitions,

and why the fuck not if it is not hurting another motherfucker,

nor a goddamned saint, or a saint for real in the trueness of spirituality, who could never be harmed by a word i or another potty mouth utters,

but to reason, and seek out time with one for a clearer understanding,

should love allow one to go down the skid row streets through the eternal piss and shit

and all that trash lining the streets and walks after a good fattening feed to relieve the true sense of the pain for just a couple more minutes until one can get another hit of crack,

of heroine, of weed, of prescription over the counter, under the counter, behind the counter, and above the counter drugs on the side from all the other remedies to take pain down the drain with all the thoughts that seem to keep bringing them back,

and now they are forth again, because what the fuck is the trigger,

and what the fuck does that mean

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and so i am about done, and certainly the 20 minutes is about to go off, or at least if feels like it so, or i am writing like a goddamned crack head on speed myself

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but everyday, i shun these, and i shun these asking me for  a fucking quarter, or a dollar or some kind of money i don’t have on the same crackhead – skid row streets as they are on

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and i am bringing this to a closure as commanded by Leilani our fearless Veterans writing workshop leader full of veterans today, full of life full of write, all with plans and the encouragement in one way or another to help us all to get there.

12/17/13, 12:52 PM

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i am facing the fear of my abstraction – in translation

art therapy – because U are a work of Art