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TELL YOUR STORY
(c) 1995, All Rights Reserved
Tell your story
Tell your story
It may bump from the page
like words of braille
sizzling in tales of blazing glory;
it may glisten in the sunshine like the holy grail,
so tell me a tale, even if it's gory,
I'm yearning to hear you
Tell your story.
Have you heard
'bout the man
in the motorized chair?
Found no ramp at the
movie theater
did he despair?
No,
just let them dudes lift him in there.
Came back a few days later
after somethin' greater
brought with him a crew
people in chairs just grew and grew,
said they knew
they'd be part of the view;
no problem getting in,
just lift and push and
move those hunks of tin.
The chairs, they weighed a-plenty,
The ushers stressed and
strained and got somewhat benty.
Seeing the movie was not the goal
changin' the stage was the whole
they paid for gettin' in
but that theater knew it sinned.
People in chairs sealed their own personal stamp
on that theater's shimmering new wheelchair ramp.
Tell your story
Tell your story
It may enrapture the floating air
like ASL* singing its flair
it might even glisten like the holy grail,
but no one will set their sail
toward your tale,
even if it's hunky-dory,
unless you tell your story
Tell your story.
Once I knew a lady
got caught in a picket line
changed her whole design:
came back to her hometown
mission bound.
Told a hospital it was ailing
cause it was failing to see
good health bound in the key of
phone lines hooked up with a TDD.**
Said she'd seek cooperation or
she'd be mighty angry
might even round up folks and
stoke fires of insurgency,
gather signatures and seek publicity.
You know that hospital saw the light
put an end to the no TDD blight.
(Continued next column)
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All poems (c) copyright by the Institute on Disability Culture, All Rights Reserved,
1995-2002. Express written permission required to copy, reprint, or otherwise distribute, in print, electronically, or by any other means or form. SBrown8912@aol.com.
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TELL YOUR STORY (continued)
Last time I saw that lady
she was waving a sign
telling a TV station
she sure did mind
no news she could see
so why should she
listen to what they wanted her to be.
Now she knows how to stick it
with a picket and her
pockets have been lined with Advocacy.
Tell your story
Tell your tale
You will find you touch
with the sureness of a crutch
a framework for your dwelling,
a story needing telling,
steaming like a sunburnt trail
glistening like the holy grail.
Who will know what you entail
unless you risk the path to glory
tell your story
Tell your story.
Does he want another cup of coffee?
I heard the waitress ask about the man.
How did I know his plan
just cause he couldn't see
didn't mean his brain rested in incompetency.
The stories he has told
brisk and bold
I've shared with more than a few
over a cup of coffee or a tall, cold brew.
The lessons are in the telling
they provide a framework and a dwelling.
We all have so many stories to bear
Cry, laugh, sing, and despair;
how will our children learn and compare
if we're too timid to dare
to raise the flare
share that we care.
Tell your story
Sing your tale
Tell our story
Shout our glory!
Tell our story
Tell our story
It may not bring fame
It may have no glory, but
cut through someone's life like a ray of sunshine
break away barriers like a layer of turpentine,
tell your story
Tell your tale
We're not as elusive as that holy grail.
From Steven E. Brown, Pain, Plain--and Fancy Rappings: Poetry from the Disability Culture (1995). Available from SBrown8912@aol.com
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PAIN TABLETS
No, not those sterile "pain pills" advertised on daily TV
not those narcotics waiting at the local pharmacy
not "Mother's Little Helper's"--real pain, perhaps, but not my pain;
not narcotics, barbiturates, amphetamines, synthetic drugs
commonplace nowadays in ghettos, suburbs, and Halls of Congress.
I'm talking about real PAIN TABLETS
I'm talking about pain I see on my wife's face
when she "just wrenched her hip."
I'm talking about pain that leaves her breathless
when she arises from chaircouchbedcar
immobilized from taking another step
I'm talking about effective PAIN TABLETS.
I'm talking about pain I recall from my youth:
I would arise from couchchairbed
take an hour or
more
to go from sitting to
standing to
moving--
I'm talking about using crutches,
wheelchair,
canes,
other people.
I'm talking about pain when I was small and
painstakingly, slowly, agonizingly crawled
all over our house because the jarring torture of
being lifted and carried terrified me.
I'm talking about PAIN TABLETS to
erase my memory of these events
I'm talking about PAIN TABLETS to
erase my wife's twisted face
reflecting her twisted bones and joints.
I'm talking about PAIN TABLETS that
don't mask pain
don't mask symptoms
don't play with endorphins
don't scramble my psyche.
I'm talking, I'm pleading for
PAIN TABLETS
that actually
literally
erase
obliterate
remove
wipe from all memory
THE PAIN
From Voyages: Life Journeys (1996)
Available from SBrown8912@aol.com
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for danny
whose sunshine sparkle eyes proclaim more than ever i can
whose compassion flows into endless
oceans of love;
whose aura fills rooms
no matter who is
or isn't around.
for danny
whom i have known only a short time
into forever.
for danny
who will bring seldom-raised tears to my eyes;
for danny
who i will miss
for danny
who will always remind me about love
into forever.
From Steven E. Brown, Love Into Forever: A Tribute to Martyrs, Heroes, Friends, and Colleagues (2002). Available from SBrown8912@aol.com.
NOTE: Thanks to the AIDS Cocktail, danny lives still.
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