~falling down is easy~
~reaching for a helping hand~
~god, oh god~
~where have I landed~
~a man crying out~
~from the bottom of a well~
~it is dark inside my coma dream~
~phantom spirit ghosts I see~
~when I awaken~
~I long for their embrace~
~as those of my own kind~
~they throw me away~
~it is just a~
~bone damned wonder~
~to me~
~the good news is~
~I am able to hobble to the toilet now~
~with the help of my walker thing~
~four times a night~
~twelve steps each way~
~one-two-three-four & rest~
~pain is a bone damned wonder~
~deeper than my need to piss~
~I am possessed of both~
~are possessed of me~
~the bad news is~
~snow, I am cold~
~pain is a bone damned wonder~
~winter in Colorado~
~these hundred & ten pounds of me~
~ache deeper, mark me~
~in waves that didn’t exist~
~seventy-five days ago~
~to the hundred & eighty pounds of me~
~the clinicians sent me a bus pass~
~to this hidey-hole I’m living/dying in~
~the bus stop is four blocks away~
~might as well be in china~
~it’s good solid paper though~
~guess I can use it to start a fire~
~so I won’t freeze to death in this place~
~the so-so news is~
~I am crushed but alive~
~pain is a bone damned wonder~
~that assures me it is so~
~if I ever walk again I swear~
~I will never smash another bug~
~they are my friends here~
~in this warehouse we are kept~
~away from the worst of worst of liars~
~those whom say they are aware~
~& sworn to help the aged, broken & dying~
~the shit-house of my life is on fire~
~those dear ones, emergency services~
~swimming in near & safe waters~
~refuse to splash a bit on these flames~
~they are not ignorant of my plight~
~they are hypocrites, bigots & liars~
~whatever was in me is out~
~that I am alive is a~
~bone damned wonder~
http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
~Christmas in bed~
~smiling in spite of it all~
~Mother Teresa Was An Alien~
~the writing is on the wall~
~brother~
~its message so clear~
~a blind man would know it~
~simply because he is blind~
~helpless in the sense of sight~
~as you are with your body crushed~
~she made a thousand calls~
~because she believed in the system~
~no one called her back until today~
~& that was to tell her to knock it off~
~to cease stirring up trouble~
~assessments take time~
~if you run out of that commodity~
~time~
~the assessors smile smugly~
~confidently~
~after all~
~their job is done~
~on the outside looking in~
~where we’ve always been~
~sheriffs, gruff acting men with guns~
~evicting us when we were children~
~Momma pregnant at work~
~daddy at the bar~
~the empirical collective police state~
~had our number~
~our Cherokee ancestors~
~believed in a heaven on earth~
~where the good people~
~in a life after death~
~would return to live simply~
~the evil ones taken away~
~seems like an attractive dream~
~I doubt that place is here~
~there may be such a place though~
~some folks are so good~
~they must be from somewhere else~
~we must do this thing alone~
~there is no room in our spirits for the assessors~
~they have stolen your hair~
~forced you out into the cold~
~your broken body pressed between wheels~
~they are dismissive & afraid~
~it is a high honor~
~to be unwelcome in their camp~
~it is a high honor~
~to be your brother~
~whatever was in me~
~is out~
~I need someone~
~come talk to me~
http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
~This is now…~
At my wit’s end, trying to save my brother’s life. He was in an automobile accident Nov. 2, 2011. There is a recap below, a short letter to Tom Martino, consumer advocate extraordinaire in Colorado. My brother is confined to a wheelchair, out of food, and running low on hope. He is in a small house in Commerce City, Adams County, Colorado. The landlord has given him until the end of January to either come up with three months’ rent or get out. He has received a shut-off notice for his utilities and run out of food. He was an active 60-year-old before the accident. He was released from Denver Health December 15th, his pelvis in a cage to support the broken bones. Social Services and patient advocates from Denver Health haven’t returned calls. If you have any information as to how he can receive some professional assistance and human support, please message me at wordwulf@gmail.com .
Please help me save my brother’s life.
My brother, Jack (John Carl Eugene Sterner) was in a one car accident Nov. 2, 2011 58th & Quebec. He was thrown from the car. His torso (rib cage and pelvis) was crushed. He was taken to Denver Health by ambulance and placed in ICUS. I drove to Denver from California, arrived 11/5 and found him there more or less comatose, unable to communicate. I stayed for a couple of weeks, stopped by the hospital the 18th to say goodbye. The lights were off in his room and he was thrashing about wildly. As I reached to open the door, a nurse advised me he was agitated and should be left alone. I told her he was my brother and I’d like to try to calm him down. “He’s kicking at us,” she advised me. “He’s unconscious, is unaware what he’s doing,” I replied. “He can’t communicate. Even if he was conscious he couldn’t speak because of the tracheotomy.” “He can communicate well enough to mouth “fuck you” to me,” she said angrily.
I was elated and she was pissed. She finally told me to go in and do whatever I wanted with him. I left the next day. The day after that his hair was cut off. I felt this was done in reprisal for his unconscious behavior and filed a complaint with the hospital, advising them we are of Cherokee descent and our hair is sacred to us. I wanted it back to give to my brother when he woke up. I have a letter of apology from the hospital explaining the hair is gone.
December 15th Jack was released from the hospital. In the three weeks since he has been out, other than appointments at the hospital, he has received no assistance from them, social services, etc. My wife and I have exhausted ourselves in the runaround between Social Services, Disability, Denver Health, Social Security, etc. A Colorado native, it is unbelievable to me that a human being would be so treated. In the struggle to assist him from here we have acquired power of attorney to fill out and file paperwork on his behalf. We have been bounced from person to person, agency to agency, and NOTHING has happened. He has been given 30 days to vacate the rental house he lives in at 5450 Newport St. #C. He’s received a shut-off notice for his utilities. Friends and relatives have struggled to load him into their vehicles, fearful of dropping and further injuring him. He weighed 180 pounds two months ago. Now he weighs 110 and is confined to a wheelchair, elated that he can at least pull himself into a walker and make it to the bathroom to take a leak.
I believe my brother is being treated badly because he has no money, no resources. Further that he is not a part of mainstream society and not worth the effort afforded a “normal” citizen. I’ve watched you and your work for many years and have faith in your convictions. Please help me save my brother’s life. Don’t let them throw him away.
http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
~That was then...~
~Written On Glass~
A sun/heart drawn in the corner splashed wavy rays across the window. Small stick-figure girls jumped rope and played hop-scotch sill to sill. A dog with a head larger than its body frolicked with them, a big smile drawn across its doggy face. There was writing across the bottom of the scene, a caption of sorts.
He was cold, standing out there in the yard. Having spent the day working in the chill Colorado weather, Jeremy had entertained himself with thoughts of coming home to a warm house. Scrutinizing the front-room window, he forgot all about the cold. Lacy, his six-year-old daughter, must have gotten busy right after school to create such a busy picture.
Jeremy stepped closer and bent down, the better to see her artwork. The writing was scrawled and awkward to read; he was hard put to make it out and there was the artist’s own finger! He looked into Lacy’s big brown eyes and she blew him a kiss through the window. Jeremy caught it on his cheek and headed for the front door. Lacy wheeled her chair to meet him and hugged his head warmly when he bent to kiss her face. “Mrs. Wiley baked us a cherry pie,” she whispered into his ear.
Jeremy held her at arm’s length. “Did she leave you alone again?”
Lacy’s eyes swam behind thick lenses. She was tiny and frail, appeared even more so between the wheels of her chair, to everyone but Jeremy, that is. His number one girl was gifted in every way and he knew it. “Mrs. Wiley knows I’m a big girl and can take care o’ myself ‘til you get home,” Lacy beamed.
“So you are!” Jeremy chortled. “Now how ‘bout some o’ that pie?”
“I’m gonna have a little nap,” Lacy replied. “Now you’re home to watch me, I bemembered I’m tired.”
Jeremy lifted her from the chair and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her on the bed and smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “That’s a wonderful picture you drew on the window.”
Lacy smiled. “It’s you ‘n me.”
Jeremy removed her glasses and set them on the nightstand. Lacy was already asleep, the smile still on her face. Oh yes, this was the warmth he had longed for all day. He went to the window for an inside view. There was his little girl, doing all the things little girls do. He imagined Lacy running in her dreams. And there he was, not a dog after all, with that big Daddy head and smile.
He bent over to read the caption. It was even harder to read from inside the house because Lacy had written it backwards. A tear rolled down Jeremy’s cheek. Frontward or backward didn’t matter; Lacy’s message was the only truth he would ever need to know: ‘I LOVE MY DADDY’
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