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Thursday, March 1, 2007

LET'S NOT 1990


LET’S NOT
1990
Richard O Harris

Let’s not use the disease that has ravaged our lives to fuel the anger, hatred, and bigotry against others each of us has had to face.


Let’s not wallow in our grief and sorrow over the death of those we love until our own lives become bitter or even worse meaningless.


Let’s not keep the memories of our pain and anguish as the only source of motivation left in a life, which has suffered enough losses.


Let’s not forget the joy and happiness we once knew with them simply because their affliction causes us to fear for ourselves.


Let’s not dishonor our friends, lovers, and acquaintances by sharing only our grief with each other and withholding the best of all they gave us.


Let’s not allow our lives to become a parody of their death for we will have to help others die knowing they are loved even as we continue to live.


Let’s not allow our guilt for having been spared overshadow whatever time remains to the rest of us.


Let’s not permit death, disease, and suffering to become the only common ties between us and sever us from what joy remains to be had with each other.


Let’s not let their only epithet become “he/she died of AIDS” or we deny not only their entirety but our own.


Let’s not give up demanding, looking, praying, and hoping for a cure or we may overlook the one avenue by which it can be obtained.


Let’s not stop educating ourselves and others or we may miss the opportunity to save another life.


LET’S NOT

Visions 1988

Visions
August 1988
Richard O Harris
Until I learned to make peace with my visions I did not know the things I had been taught. The word “love” was an experience others had, and always seemed to have definite pre-requisites. The values of good and bad, right and wrong were arbitrary and fluctuating with each judgment made dependent on one limited view. The hopes of tomorrow and the regrets of the past were all to be met with dread and self-loathing. The most conscious act, thought, and word was always aimed toward survival and power over all else whatever that all else was conceived to be.

When I learned to make peace with my visions, I knew that I had not learned the things I had been taught. The idea “love” was a foreign and unknown concept instituted by others to unbalance and mislead me. The values of good and bad, right and wrong were real and concrete insuring that I would never be able to withstand any judgment. The hopes of tomorrow and the regrets of the past were all intentional and deserved deprivations. The most conscious thought, act, and word was always aimed at keeping me from becoming more than I was allowed to become with those limitations I had willingly submitted to.

Now that I have made peace with my visions; knowing, learning, and being taught are things that change with each experience or circumstance. “Love” has become a comfortable and real experience whose beauty is beyond description and whose limitations are created by my own desires. The values of good and bad, aright and wrong are no real values but only words used to describe whether I am willing to accept those things about myself or others that appear daily. The hopes of tomorrow and the regrets of the past, while not absent, are withdrawn from this moment. The most conscious thought, act and word are no longer weapons being used against me and my will but have become tools designed to help me grow, to help shape my growth, and to prevent me from being overcome by uglier or less usable forms of life.

I did not want to make peace with my visions. And I still, at times, declare war upon them. But I am no longer frightened by them and it is this vision that is the most peaceful of them all.

Wanted 1986

Wanted
1986
Richard O Harris

You are wanted, loved, and needed
You are kind, gentle, loving, and strong
You are never more lovable than
When you perceive yourself as wrong.

And through the years I’ve come to see
That all I feel for you is also felt for me

You deserve to be happy, joyous, and free
You have grown through disappointments
Overcome so much more than me
That I often felt afraid you would leave

And when you finally went away I found I was not alone
Because as I watched and helped you grow, I have also grown.

The Buried One 1985

The Buried One
1985
Richard O Harris

There is a human being inside of me buried far beneath the surface. A being whose inner most thoughts and feelings have been ignored and drowned out so long you would think it impossible for it to remain in existence. But this being is so desirous of life that no matter what torture it is subjected to it will not cease or desist.
I do not know a lot about this person my self because I have spent so much time and energy trying to reject him that I’ve never really known who he is or what he is, only that he is there and will not go away.
I have mad another person out of my mind to hide the buried one’s existence from the rest of the world as though he were some hideous or deformed person that would repel others. And why not since I have rejected the buried one myself?
I want to get to know him now because this other person I have made does not have the things I thought he had. He is not strong enough to bear the forced silence the buried one has borne without becoming bitter and full of hatred. He does not know how to love even those who despise and reject him like the buried one does. And he knows as well as the buried one that he does not be long, that he’s out of place, a trespasser living only on the longsuffering tolerance of the buried one. And he fears the judgments the buried one will pass on him not daring to hope for the forgiveness he so desperately wants and needs from the buried one.
Both the trespasser and the buried one is me. Can I forgive my self for pretending I am some one I am not? Can I forgive my self for denying who I am? I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. I think. I can.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

What Does Family Mean? (Poem)




WHAT DOES FAMILY MEAN?
July 16, 1996
Richard O. Harris

Someone once asked me what family means.
I asked them how much time they had to listen.
Fried chicken, potatoes, and turnip greens
Were but a few of the things I planned to mention.

They thought I was joking and I did not understand.
So they asked me to please explain it a little more.
I replied that family was more than just a clan.
It was one place I knew I could find an open door.

With great effort, they over came their frustration,
And asked if I was enjoying these jokes.
I explained that family was an inspiration
And I wasn’t kidding, just ask any ones folks.

Then they said, Stop, let’s just start all over again,
Go back to the beginning and figure it out.
I stated family included ALL my kin.
I didn’t know what all the confusion was about.

All the little things that make a family
Are more than I can count times a hundred.
So, if you want me to say it quite frankly,
Family includes everyone that’s my kindred.

Those with whom I live and abide,
Those I love in every state,
All the members of my tribe,
Even those who show up late.

To me it all seems very clear
And to define it all real simply,
It’s all the people I hold dear
That I mean when I say family.

It’s all of those who have gone before
And all of those who will come tomorrow.
It is all of you and so much more,
In time of happiness and sorrow.

So to you I give my reply
Of what family means to me.
You are always there when I cry,
“I LOVE YOU ALL – MY FAMILY!”

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