As always, friends emerge in the strangest of places. This piece is dedicated to Philip, Ruth, Tim, Kenny, Ruby F., Devon, Janice, Josh V., Josh two, William, Jasmine, Joe G., Tyrone, Theo, Clyde, Kris, Melissa A., Edward, Virginia, Lucy, Ken M., Noreen, Iris, Brian one, Brian two, Rodney A., James M., Andy B., Thomas B., Elaine, Thomas two, Talina, Carl, Donny P., William, Michele, Brian, Francesca, David A., Constance, Jesus M., Wendy, George one, Vince, Mark, Roberts one-three, Steve one, Abigail, David H., Randy, Natalie, Larry, Amber L., Alex, Rich, Janice, Chris T., Jerry, Mr. Director, George two, Steve two, Tim, Franky-Mary P., Pete, Edmond L., Larry, Roger B., Cathy, Rich, Mike....
People who touched me so strongly, as being angels somewhat hidden in the closet of their respective health complications; each of whom, via the influence of stabilizing medications or whatever else was keeping them stable (at times, sometimes oft', sometimes not) within the realm of The Arizona State Hospital, set themselves as far higher beings than the evil mongers who have been granted by their relatively superficial professional qualifications- vs. ethical character- the absolute privilege to impose themselves on the needs of our loved ones. For that's what it is, you know, nothing short of privilege to be allowed by family or morally balanced citizens or state policy or the very air of our planet to share the thoughts and hearts of Arizona's most at risk adults.
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| Beth, 1993. |
A little girl reached for the stick
but it struck her instead
and she died of a snake bite:
a copperhead going for the eggs.
(from"Orchard", pjreed 1989)
early morning sailors/we came together
they came by
day after day
often announced
my welcome was taken for granted
by me, so I always made my way in
to their respective houses
as though we had been there for time
eternal is the strength of pain
and happiness is the price of love
which came to me there
in the strangest of places
but in truth, no farther from home
than the lakes down that hill-
birchwood, crystal, mountain-
and defines the trail where we met.
(pjreed, 2012)
notes:
-beth 1993 photo oriole b
paoloreed@gmail.com
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I would really love input of any kind from anybody with any interest whatsoever in the issues that I am sharing in this blog. I mean it, anybody, for I will be the first one to admit that I may be inaccurately depicting certain aspects of the conditions
at ASH, and anonymous comments are fine. In any case, I am more than willing to value anybody's feelings about my writing, and I assure you that I will not intentionally exploit or otherwise abuse your right to express yourself as you deem fit. This topic is far, far too important for anything less. Thank you, whoever you are. Peace and Frogs.