Poetry

I feel that most people start writing because of some need to get the things inside out. I began to write based on a tragedy that changed me in more ways than I could handle. I started in 1991 to write poems to express the lose of a loved one. I was a staff sergeant in the US Air Force and gay so I kept most folks at arms length for my own protection.   Tim was the most annoying person I had ever met and he would not take no as an answer. I don't have any clear memories of that time as it was prior to my TBI, but I can see the pain I was in from old writings I had from that time. He was a civilian and didn't understand why I refused what he offered. I finally allowed him into my life and it was the happiest decision I had ever made. This was written after he killed himself.

On this day, Oct 10 1991, Timothy Joseph Hanson took his on life by parking his car on the train tracks near his mothers home in Sioux City, Iowa. The phone call upset me so much that in fine Roman tradition I killed the messenger by slamming the phone partway into the cinder block wall. I, also, smoked my very first cigarette that day with the civilian AFETS. It was the most horrible day imaginable. Within a month I was headed to Woomera,SA where I would meet some very wonderful people. The feeling of lose never goes away. The feeling that I should have been able to prevent it does not fade. More importantly the anger at this person who said they loved me but chose to leave me never goes away. It grows.

Season of Sleep

The world is growing cold with the

Approach of winter.

It is time for the trees to go to sleep for now

And you, my love, to go to sleep forever.

You who were the fountain of beautiful

Chaos in my life, are now gone.

I do not know how to tell you good-bye

Nor can I properly express the depth

Of emotion to which you are attached.

I will never be the same for this.

The golden leaves fall from the trees and remind

Me of another time when you and I drove through the

City filled with the grief for another lost friend.

That time is gone, now it is I driving

Alone in waves of pain.

How do these things happen?

Who is it that decides on this horror?

I thought I knew, but I am more confused.

So, the trees will sleep and so shall you.

The only difference is that they shall rise in the spring,

But you, my love, will not.

My first

I am just a normal guy who has died a few times and gotten better. I served in the United States Air Force until 1998 when, after 17 years, they decided to kick me for something that I had told them at the beginning: I'm gay. It was a knee jerk reaction by DOD to the president writing Don't Ask/Don't Tell. That document ended more careers then the so called "which hunts" ever did. I don't understand politics and in my opinion that is a good thing.

The most life changing event I have so far experienced was my death in 2013. I was thrown from the second floor of my apartment and landed head first on the brick floor below. I have life today because of two reasons. One is the brilliance of the medical team at the University of New Mexico Hospital lead by Dr. Tabe. The other was my complete lack of medical knowledge. I did not know that my injuries should have killed me so I refused to stay dead. I had an extensive rebuild of my chest and head. I have very few real memories of anything prior to June the 21st, 2013. The doctors originally wanted to do the operations over an entire year but I forced them to complete me in just under a month, I wanted to get back to school! That was a bust because my mind had been rearranged. Things I was good at before I could no longer do. Math has been taken away from me. I used to volunteer as a cooking instructor through the Department of Justice's Weed and Seed program and I have lost the ability to explain what I am doing. I can still cook, excellently, but I can't explain what I am doing. I think of it as muscle memory, my body remembers and just does.

When I left the hospital I remember the nurse telling me to go with this very nice lady because she was my mother. She became my number one advocate and defender. When she died in 2016 I went crazy. I hated everyone and everything that I perceived as taking her away from me. I ended up homeless and lost until a very nice Albuquerque Police Department man found me. I had been beaten several times so he took me in for repairs. He, also, told me about the Good Shepherd. I did not know that there were places I could go to get food and to sleep.

This is only part of a much larger story. I have left things out for the purpose of brevity but I will expand later on.

I have a hard time relating to humans.  Its like when they were rebuilding me that left some parts out. If you have never met a person who has suffered a severe traumatic brain injury then you may not know that one of the common side effects is extreme irritability. That is what the doctors call it but it does not begin to explain what happens. Imagine someone bumping in to you and your first thought is to launch nuclear weapons at them and you may begin to understand what it means to befriend a TBI survivor. So I have few friends to say the least.

Thank you for your time.