THE COLOR OF TRUTH by Sharon H.

There comes a time in life
when finally...
how long has it taken?
you are simply true to yourself.
Like breathing, you immediatly
follow your truest impulse...
and you trust that truth inside
that you finally own
without Fear.
Feel light as air
running toward the curves ahead
full force...
Not back to the life
you were born into.
No worries,
Anxiety free,
A strength
Powerful
Dangerous
Courageous....
SHE WILL BE HEARD!!

by  Sharon H. 
     

LOVE MARGIE by Margie Taylor

          On Friday, 11/16/12, my sister Diane called me and told me Mom was in the hospital and she was not doing well. I woke Jennifer up and told her I needed to get to Chicago to be with Diane and my Mom. So I packed my suitcase and Jennifer got me to the Greyhound bus station. I could not use my ticket for going to Chicago on the 27th, so Jennifer paid for a one-way ticket for me. I was supposed to take the 10:30 bus, but instead there was room on the 5:10 bus.
          The driver let me on. I kept in touch with my sister and let her know where I was late Friday night. Early Saturday, 2:00am in the morning my sister called. Mom took a turn for the worst. I told Diane we were in Indiana and we had not reached our stop yet. At 4:30am Diane called me back and told me Mom passed away. I had not made it to the hospital at my Mom's time of death.

          I am gonna miss you Mom.

          Mom I am going to miss you. Mom, you were there for me when I had my eye surgery and you were there for me when I got hit by the car. You helped wash me up when I had the cast on. You helped dress me. You were there when I graduated from Grade School. You were there when I entered High School. You were there when I graduated from High School. You were there for my wedding to Rick.

          There is something else I am going to miss about you Mom ... When I was sad I could always come and talk to you. You always listened to me. You never judged me or told me I was bad or that I shouldn't have done the things I did. You never made me feel bad.
    
          I am so happy I got to see you two and a half weeks ago. I got to hold your hand, give you a hug, kiss you and tell you that I love you. I had no idea you were going to leave me like you did.

          Mom, Diane gave me your watch and your necklace; the one that you always wore. Every time I wear the watch and necklace I will think of you.

          Yes, Mom, I am going to miss you. Some days I will cry and some days I will be happy.

          Mom, you are missed a lot.

          Thank you for being my Mom hear on Earth.

-Love Margie

THIS WEEKS DIRECTIVE ON WEDNESDAY 11/21/2012: DESCRIBE A PLACE YOU KNOW WELL, LINKING THREE LOCATIONS WITHIN IT:

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          I wake up in a cold room. Instead of a mattress I am sleeping on a couch cushion. My jacket is on with many layers underneath. I can see my breath and frost on the windowpane. I empty my pockets...if I have a dollar I will go to Burger King and get some hash browns. all I have is thirteen cents. I pull my hood back over my head and fall back asleep.

          I wake up in a warm room. It feels like I have been asleep forever. It's a hospital. Oh, I'm not free to leave. I look at the paper menu on the table and see the date: December thirty-first, 2011. The day after Christmas was when I rushed those guards and got injected with a chemical restraint. My New Year's resolution is to go back to sleep.

          I wake up and smell clean sheets. The sun is climbing over the high rises on Sheridan. I am in my own place. I can have cereal or a kiwi for breakfast. There is fresh coffee to be ground.

     I am a real body in the real world. Now that I'm on medicare and my sleep apnea is being treated, I sleep so deep and wake up so early. Now that I don't smoke I actually have dreams. Dreams of being trapped by psychiatry or poverty.

-Ben Merrell


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I get up early in the morning...

The sun shining in my penthouse, I can see...

Blue clouds when I look up...

The sun shining off the lake.

Damn it feels great...

Hard work pays off...

More work to finish...

So I'm up early...

Making music.

I can hear the birds sing a song...

Saying, "God is Good..."

I don't eat to work...

So don't worry about eating...

So I close my eyes...

I'll thank the lord for a new day...

          I go to work like I was going to school...

Cause I like Old School Music...

Music takes me away...

When I have nowhere to go...

Nobody to talk to...

So I get my pen and paper...

I'm working...

That's what I call work...

Every place I go...

From my home to school...

I'm superior with my work...

I'm higher when writing...

I'm spaced out when I'm smoking weed...

I'm RAM when I finish my masterpiece...

I call that good quality.

-Jeremie Younger

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          The Dawn Center is very important to me because I feel I learn a lot about mental illness. When I am on the street I try to reflect on what I learn at the drop-in center.

          While I am at home I carry out what I learn at the drop-in center, like coping skills, how to relax and self control. I sill need to work in the self control department. I need to write in a journal. But sometimes I get writer's block.

          My main issue right now is anger. I am frustrated because I keep waling out of group because I'm trying to lead a group and people are talking and it makes me angry.

          Panhandlers on the street piss me off.

-Richard Taylor

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          I live in Chicago and I like to go downtown because there is a lot of things to do there like walking the Mag Mile, going to Millennium Park, and going to Navy Pier. That makes me happy.

          My mom and my sisters moved to Atlanta, Georgia. My wife and I went to visit for three weeks. I like it down there because it gets hot and also there is a lot to do as well, like going to the Coke-a-Cola Company, walking through the Olympic Park, and going to the CNN building. Now, to me, that is fun as well, because it is a lot like Chicago.

-Eric Taylor

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My head

Scrambled and confused

Unable to form cohesive sentences

Stuck on the need to be perfect,

To find the right word,

Phrase and paragraph

Forever crossing out this for that

And coming back to this

I hunch up my shoulders

Letting the scattered stress settle in

Filling, tugging and permeating my upper body

Causing my breath to catch

Teeth to grind

Dizziness and confusion ensue

Why do I do this to myself?

Why can't I just be okay...now?

It is exhausting, this journey from the head to my core

Guts wanting to hold on

Hoping for a good outcome

Under the illusion that I can be the captain 

Of that "control" ship

Every location of this place called my body

#1 Brain

#2 Teeth

#3 Neck

#4 Lungs

#5 Guts

#6 I won't even to into the nether regions...

That's a whole other poem...

All these places are worn out...

Dependent on the up and down of my moods

The clarity

Or lack thereof

Of my mental status

Difficult to gauge

If I'm up

I'm light

If I'm down

I'm lead

In the middle

An undiscovered country

One I hope to visit

More often than naught.

-Elizabeth Hipwell

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          My church is the one place I enjoy, because when trouble comes my way I can go and talk to God and tell him my problems and I can cry to him if I want to. He will listen to me and he will not tell anyone what I told him. If I am mad I can also tell God.

          My second place is to be out doors in a park where you can walk on a path and look at the trees and the squirrels having fun. I feel that they don't have to worry. They have a cozy home in the trees. They can run up and down the trees and go find nuts to eat.

          The next location is my bedroom. If I am sad I can always go to my room and sit and cry, or just lay down, take a nap and be under a warm blanket where I can be in my own little world where no one bothers me or tells me to get out of their space. If I decide to I can have my door shut and watch TV. 

          I picked these three places because I can be myself at Church; just me and God. In a park with a path, nature  and squirrels are fun to watch. I can also talk to God because he is everywhere. I picked the third and final place, my bedroom, because I feel safe in my room with the door shut. It is peaceful and I can talk to God too if I want to.

THE END

-Margie Taylor

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THREE PLACES I CONNECT TO:

Amusement Park

Rollercoaster

Picnic Table

 

As a small girl, growing up with my Mom, during the Summer, we would always got to the amusement park, at least once amonth, my Mom would pack the red and white metal picnic basket, with Southern fried chickent, homemade potato salad, and fresh gread. Shen we arrived, she would put the food in the locker and we would go on the rides. I loved all the rides, except the roller coaster.

However, one day I decided to give it a try.

My Mom asked me, “Are you sure?”

My heart started racing, my stomach got upset, and I turned as white as a ghost. Can you see me urning white as a ghost? I did, and I said, “Sure, I’m not afraid.” She put me on the rollercoaster. The darn thing started to move up, and up it went. I thought to myself, ‘This isn’t so bad.’ It stopped at the top, which seemed to take forever, and then it started movind down faster and faster. Oh my God!

I held those handle bars so tight. I think my hands became a part of them. Tears came to my eyes, and I held my breath for the rest of the ride. It finally ended and my Mom helped me out of the coaster car, and said, “How was the ride?”

I gave her this fake smile and said, “I loved it,” knowing the whole time that I was lying to myself. I thank my higher power that she she didn’t listen to me. We then proceeded to the picnic table. She took out the paper plate, plastic forks and cups. Then she served the food.

My hands were still shaking from the ride. I could barely keep my food on the fork. That was one day I could not wait to go back home. The next time we went to the amusement park, and every time thereafter, I did not mention the rollercoaster. Thank God my Mom did not either.

-Joanne Taylor

TOKEN by Kelly Greenwood

Inhibitor of a reality

That I have no business playing in

You’re playing he grown-folks game,

But I'm still growing up

The vibe is magic

Though touch out of the question

I feel you yearn

In the deep damp depths of your soul,

But I'm still trying to forgive

Something so powerful

Can open up the Eye

So deep inside

With just a passing glance

I feel myself surrendering

To your sickness,

A process I cannot bear to repeat

With one token

Comes a dime a dozen

Frozen in the headlights

Like breathe down my neck

Chasing the solo daze

Through the starlit haze,

Some spells were made to be broken

-Kelly Greenwood

CHILD OF A STORM by Kelly Greenwood

I am in a place that requires a solo scavenger hunt

I need to work deep down below the surface

Of the darkest of waters

And find myself, excavate my soul

From the ruins of the last ship-sink

My revenge is to find solitude

Somewhere I can lick the salt from my wounds

And the water in my eyes won't turn to dust

The walls a thin sheet of ice

A membrane of memories

Survives the sub tropic sound waves

Wash ashore, head for home

Before the storm breaks

I am a professional

Capsize in the rain

While thunder barrels down the shore

This is how you earn your stripes

Gold, leaden-blue gathers strength

Against resistance

Tipping over pipe bombs

Somewhere in the distance

My hand like a machine gun

Words licking my brain like a tongue

Hot wet kiss then let’s go

Long enough for it to linger

In the silent halls like lingo

Count the spare inches

On one finger

Itchy on the trigger

Pull you near

Chase you for sport

You’ll run for fear

Undercover like the cops

I dread the impending prosecution,

But I've hurt everyone

That’s ever tried to get close

Towed the line, took a chance

My thumb is out

Waiting to catch that speeding train

You’re still waiting to dance

The lack of tolerance makes you numb

To the things about me that

You wouldn't understand

Things you couldn't understand

Things you shouldn't understand...

Been tearing down walls

And building a moat

For eight and a half centuries,

What makes you think I'm gonna stop now?

What makes the heat inside warm

When the cold dark rain

Catches you off guard

The swelling vacant mist

Offered in gun powder

Saturate the screen

Teach me to run

While my lips bleed

Talking to me like I'm an infant of god

A child of storm

The war is won,

But the battle has just begun.

-Kelly Greenwood

Some Recent Media For Silent Voices

CHICAGO TRIBUNE 

NOVEMBER 14, 2012

STREETWISE 

The Dark Tunnel by Sharon H.

     Traveling along her journey, hitting the many bumps, Faith held tightly to the sides of the pickup truck that she was riding in the back of. Slowly she seemed to be getting where she needed to be, hitting every bump along the way.The truck entered a dark tunnel, it was so dark that Faith could not even  see the truck she was sitting in. Suddenly, she felt a jolt; Faith lost her grip and fell out of the truck. She landed on sharp rocks, which lined the sides of the tunnel. She jumped up, rubbed her head, and tried to flag down her ride. But the truck kept going through the dark tunnel, the driver not noticing that Faith had fallen out.
     Faith began walking, deciding that she would just have to continue her journey on foot. But she was so small and the tunnel, the darkness, seemed endless. Every so often Faith would stop to rest on the rocks. The darkness, so thick at times, that she could not even see her own hands. 'Where does this tunnel end?" she often thought. She could hear what sounded like rats, running nearby, but other than herself, that was the only sound. Faith walked and walked, and the tunnel twisted and turned, but the darkness continued. "Where is this tunnel taking me?" Faith wondered, as she felt a chill go through her.
     Too tired to keep walking, Faith curled up in a corner to rest. Cold and alone, she didn't know what to do. She thought about the old saying 'There's light at the end of the tunnel', and found herself wanting to scream "WHERE? Where is it?!". When she finally let the scream out- it only echoed back at her. Faith could only cry herself to sleep.
     She woke a short time later, to the sound of the rats moving closer. Faith got up and began walking once again, covered with the darkness that surrounded her. She was losing hope that there was an end to this tunnel, that light existed somewhere at the end. She was no longer even sure, with all the twists and turns, that she was still going the right way. But still she walked.
The truck driver, she realized," either never noticed that I was no longer in the truck, or he just didn't care what happened to me. It doesn't matter to anyone whether or not I make it out of the darkness." Battling with herself about whether or not to give up...she tried to push on.
     Time passed so slowly and it seemed to become more and more hopeless.
Finally, she thought she saw a little bit of light...but she wasn't sure if she dared to believe it. "Is this it?!!" Faith hollered, "Have I finally reached the end of the darkness?" Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound, it was coming from in front of her, where she saw the light. Faith began running toward the light, faster and faster. She saw the light, she saw the end of the tunnel, the end of this dreaded darkness. Faith was running so fast, so excited, that she almost tripped. There was Relief and joy in Faith as she ran toward the opening.....and then she saw it.....large machines dumping boulders at the edge of the darkness, where it joined with the light. "They are blocking off my exit! Faith screamed "No! No! Wait!! Help me out first!!" But by the time reached the end - the light had been swallowed by the boulders. Her way out was gone, and though she screamed and pounded, no one responded. She was once again alone in the dark.
     I sat on the hard, cold ground, numb. Her brain,attempting to throw out options, suggested walking back to the other end , where the truck entered the tunnel. But it seemed too far away...and she felt so heavy....so tired....and completely drained.
     Faith finally just laid on the cold, dark ground and stayed there. She was never found....She was never missed. Faith was never.

by Sharon H.