To Give An Ear
For Firefighter/EMT-Basic Instructor Trevor Frodge, who taught on handling psychiatric emergencies
For Firefighter/EMT-Basic Instructor Trevor Frodge, who taught on handling psychiatric emergencies
It's midnight or 1 AM or some time
after he has been bending over backwards
with his gear and the smoke and the blood
and the unfortunate calls and a child died
and then there's this person
with no blood or brains or bullets or fire--
he sits his heavy, saturated brain
aside with all its baggage and takes in the present
after he has been bending over backwards
with his gear and the smoke and the blood
and the unfortunate calls and a child died
and then there's this person
with no blood or brains or bullets or fire--
he sits his heavy, saturated brain
aside with all its baggage and takes in the present
person right in front of his
nose
like hoisting the anvil-mind
out above the ground and this situation
to see the world’s map:
its quilted fields and blankets
of forests
and mountains and sprawled cities
and this one person--
this person who’s mind has been
taken over
by something else: a disease, a thought, an
emotion
or it’s just him or her and
nobody wants them anymore
like the man with legion left to
the tombs and the caves
and the emptiness and the pigs and the chains.
But these things on the side of his
head
these solitary ears--
the listening and the words pour in like a cool
drink
in the heat and desert of this
one’s life.
The above is the 4th or 5th draft of this poem.
To Give An Ear
Firefighter/EMT-Basic instructor Trevor Frodge teaches on Pyschiatric Emergencies
It's midnight or 1AM or some time
after you have been bending over backwards
with your gear and the smoke and the blood
and the unfortunate calls and a child died
and then there's this person
with no blood or brains or bullets or fire--
To sit your heavy brain aside with all its baggage
after you have been bending over backwards
with your gear and the smoke and the blood
and the unfortunate calls and a child died
and then there's this person
with no blood or brains or bullets or fire--
To sit your heavy brain aside with all its baggage
And to take in the present
Person right in front of your
nose
Is like hoisting the anvil-mind
out above the ground and this situation
To see the world’s map:
Its quilted fields and blankets
of forests
And mountains and sprawled cities
and this one person--
This person who’s mind has been
taken over
By something else: a disease, a thought, an
emotion
Or it’s just him or her and
nobody wants them anymore
Like the man with legion left to
the tombs and the caves
And the emptiness and the pigs.
But these things on the side of my
head
These solitary ears--
Words pouring in like a cool
drink
In the heat and desert of this
one’s life.
First
draft originally penned in December 2017 with various changes made here (March 2018). To see previous drafts and
the original draft, see below.
To Give An Ear
Firefighter/EMT-Basic instructor Trevor Frodge teaches on Pyschiatric Emergencies
To sit your heavy brain aside
with all its baggage
And to take in the present
Person right in front of your
nose
Is like taking the anvil mind
And hoisting it out above the ground
To see the world’s map:
Its quilted fields and blankets
of forests
And mountains and the cities
sprawled out
and this one person--
This person who’s mind has been
taken over
By something else. A disease or a thought or an
emotion
Or it’s just him or her and
nobody wants them anymore
Like the man with legion left to
the tombs and the caves
And the emptiness and the pigs.
But this thing on the side of my
head
This solitary ear
Words pouring in like a cool
drink
In the heat and desert of this
one’s life.
First draft originally penned in December 2017 with only minor grammatical changes and major enjambment and line spacing changes made here (January 2017). To see the original draft, see below.
To Give An Ear
EMT instructor Trevor Frodge teaches on Pyschiatric Emergencies
To sit your heavy brain aside
with all its baggage
And to take in the present
Person right in front of your
nose
Is like taking the anvil mind
And hoisting it out above the ground
To see the world’s map:
Its quilted fields and blankets
of forests
And mountains and the cities
sprawled out and this one person.
This person who’s mind has been
taken over
By something else a disease or a thought or an
emotion
Or it’s just him or her and
nobody wants them anymore
Like the man with legion left to
the tombs and the caves
And the emptiness and the pigs.
But this thing on the side of my
head
This solitary ear
Words pouring in like a cool
drink
In the heat and desert of this
one’s life.
