Friday, December 02, 2016

Biog of a man ...........








I arrived at my place to work and 
before I had taken ten steps inside the front door 
I was hugged by a forty seven year old man - 
smelling strongly of drink and 
wording his passionate desire to sit with me.
The contrast was leaving you - 
and stepping into a state of interaction with a man 
with desperate need. 
For the next forty minutes 
he poured out his current life and condition - 
his mental state really.

Biog of a man.
He is from Hackney - the London Borough 
described as the most deprived in the UK. 
He has holes in his back from being shot. 
He has numerous stab wounds. 
He recently smashed the front doors of the Hostel 
and he doesn't know why. 
He does not live there anymore.
He lives - 
nowhere.

There is a constant flowing praise of me in public 
because he received a letter from me 
during one of his visits to detox himself. 
The letter affirmed him and I meant it. 
He often helped out when young kids became violent 
and made a difficult situation safer for all in the community. 
He is a constant heavy drinker and uses other chemicals - 
he says not. 

Londoner.
He lives on the west side because 
he is not safe on the east side.
His roots include a gypsy Mother 
and a history of serious crime and violence. 

(His son, who I also know, 
has even more stab wounds and 
I believe he sells crack.)

We spent time with him weeping and talking loud and long and hard. 
Never threatening to me because he says I am from the East End, 
'Street', like him and 
that he respects 
that and constantly repeats that. 

Medication is refused from his GP, 
he had not eaten for two days, 
he was smelly and wearing a 
white stained track suit.
A psychological time bomb.

That was the contrast from being with you - 
we are so full of beautiful imperfection and share it - 
and we level with it.

He is beautiful - 
and broken - 
and damaged - 
and seemingly hope-less.
The eternal taxi-man has a big job.

After a period of time 
I did other things with other people 
and he became present again
and of course dominated and disrupted. 
That continued all day and, 
apart from disappearing for more alcohol, 
was still with us and during the late group-work
which had just ended. 
He was non stop gush -
a drunken gush of non-stop incoherence.

Other staff helped by moving him away from the group. 
It took ages which meant a fantastic discussion 
was stop-start for some time. 
Not one person slagged him off.
 We all know what it is like to be drunk and out of your head. 
Living in a homeless hostel gives humans 
a massive capacity to accept the the unlovely.

I cannot write more about this.
Maybe I could in time.
But wanted to share it with you.
Get it out of the soul and visible.
Because you were part of it.
The SO good - to the grime of life.
The loving and becoming - 
to the troubled and difficult , 
sliding backwards soul.

I said to the taxi man - 
"take care of him - he is precious"




          "work like you don't need the money
          dance like no-one is watching
          sing like no-one is listening
          and
          love like you have never been hurt”




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