All posts tagged: Humanism

Fear

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As I laid down beside you, I let every bit of air leave my lungs You were everything I thought you were, and I must let you go You covered me with an anointed oil that has no antidote the residue is something I have come to accept I outlined your silhouette, with my hand  I touched my heart as if it was a tangible object to stroke and console At times your presence has provoked my inner child moreover, you have reminded me of my pure humanness please let me lay beside you, so I can stare into your reflection I promise I won’t need you forever  Only tonight, when I need to hear you breathe when I awaken, I know you will be gone as the first blinding ray of sunlight enters my room I will know, you have let me go Carl Meadows April 14, 2016

Don’t Count Me Out

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As I crawled from my childhood battlefield, I remembered the voices of hope, like a permanent etching in my mind I was never good enough, strong enough, quiet enough every time I had “an idea”, it caused the stone figures to shudder The forces of conformity weighted on me like a hundred bricks The passcode was easy to remember; “do what we say, not what we do” At times I felt the aloneness, as if I was taking the last possible drop of water yet, through hope, I always believed another tear would quench me And then the test began, like a lightning storm in a forgotten dessert You were there to feel the bolt You may have scarred me, torn at my skin and even made me weep  But you will never change the fabric of me My power isn’t one of dominance, ego or dishonesty  It is the most frightening one of all As I touch the hearts of those who know me through kindness, you will never know love, peace or redemption  …

Playground

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I believe in life, many of our adult struggles and pain come from the metaphor of the playground. This is a poem that captures that primal need to belong and the ache that ensues when we get left behind. Playground As I stood against the shimmering sky, I waited for you, as if you were the most important moment of my becoming I waited in anticipation of the laughter and the belonging, that comes with a moment on the swings The running around the bushes and the counting to ten, as everyone scatters and hides The climbing of the poplars and the pretending that comes when you are standing on the top of the world, as the rooftops appear like doll houses The feelings that come with belonging to something bigger than ourselves and the proud elation that happens as the stories of the playground make us worthy As I sat on the tidder todder, it became apparent, that I was alone and there would be no saviour to elevate me. Emotions felt like a …

Poem: Jumping on the Rocks

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Jumping on the rocks Here’s a wee tale about me as a boy, I dreamed of flying but my mother warned That I would scrape my head or end up dead But in the end, I played in puff the magic dragon instead There came a time where I had to say good bye, To friends I had, adventures I made; off to a new journey in a land far away My hands broke way, to the friends I had made I dreamed real big as I left my spot, Jumping and singing, of to the next rock My hands broke way, to the friends I had made But I looked to the next and I could see my dreams far away As I jumped on the rocks, with my biological clock, I could hear the ticking and my skin began shrinking My dreams not far away, what could I say? Jumping on the rocks, leaving the past Creating space for tomorrows dreamers Adding new rocks to the river as I create a new path …

Poem: The last note

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If you were saying goodbye to someone you loved deeply and knew it was possibly the last time you would see them in your lifetime, what would you say? The Final Note As I sat down to write a final note, I wondered what to say Fearing each written line would pull me further away Thinking if I wrote what I wanted to say, you would stay for eternity My written thoughts would be prolonged till the ink disappeared I stared across the landscape, my emotions felt heavy The last leaf torn away, from the tangled branch to hang still and empty The time of fullness had passed in all its glory Does the word forever have any meaning? Knowing my heart will always remember Was it enough to sustain me? Will the memory fill me with warmth, when I am feeling cold? Is it the last time, the last tear, or the forever in that last kiss? Did the words “I love you” ever make it to your soul? The invisibleness of knowing what …

Poem: Mother

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Posted with permission. As I prepare to give my mom her 7 year sobriety cake on Tuesday evening, I wanted to share one of my most personal poems. I asked my mom if I could share the poem I wrote her after her first year when she was presented with her medallion and she said yes. Mother As a little boy you held my hand You protected me fiercely You took a stand As a sensitive child you wiped my face From the tears of discrimination That my spirit couldn’t face You held me up for the world to see Loving me as I was You saw the beauty in me Over the years, the spirit became poisoned By the drink of choice Despite the warning voices My child inside wanted to curl up and die As any evening with the drink would be soon be filled with lies I let down my mom What a terrible son Could you not see it coming? Was the rant I kept running. Not from a judgmental son …

Nursing Stories: Bedside lessons from the dying

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In my role as a Registered Nurse there are many stories that have shaped my existence as a human. There was a woman named Yvette who would not accept Home Care nursing services and she was referred to me under the auspices of “Carl this lady is in bad shape and no one has been able to make inroads, can you see if you can persuade her to let us help her? Her daughter is stressed and can’t do what is needed with her care”. Yvette had Kidney cancer and had nephrostomy tubes and was palliative (she was going to die within a short period of time). When I met Yvette she wouldn’t let me past her door chain. She asked me what I wanted and I told her that I was a home care nurse and I understood she didn’t need me, and I was just there to irrigate her tubes and I promised I wouldn’t expect any conversation with her. After a minute the chain dropped and she let me in. She told …

Humanism: He for She Campaign #heforshe

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Someone asked me recently if my signature of wearing Stilettos to worthy events was about showmanship or whether there was a deeper purpose. I shared that Stilettos are a metaphor for female power and a symbol of social construction. I watched Emma Watson’s Speech (#Heforshe) at the United Nation sharing her experience of Feminism and the impacts of stereotypes on both, men and women. Men over 28 years old in England are the most likely to commit suicide and the second cause of death for men between 28 and 48 years of age. My vision is that the day men are liberated and deconstructed from the pedagogy of masculinity. Only then will women be equal to men, as it is the social construction of gender that oppresses both women and men. I will wear heals and a moustache until no one cares.

The Poet and the Farmer

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Carl and Les represent two different generations of gay men; the poet and the farmer. Carl was raised in the town of Port Coquitlam where he was a non-conventional boy winning awards for choreography as he performed many school dance numbers before grade 7. He was bullied all through his schools years. Les grew up in Trochu, Alberta and never knew what the word gay until he moved to Calgary in his late teens. This was the era of no Gay Rights in Canada. Both men struggled with visibility, identity and self-esteem growing up. Carl and Les are committed to making the world more compassionate and committed to doing their part by celebrating GLBT contributions to the world. The annual Fall Gala is part of this vision to make sure every student in BC has the opportunity to see their self worth through GLBT visibility, support and action to make the world safe for everyone through supporting Out in Schools. This is our commitment. Come help us change the world.