Tag Archives: poverty

Smoky Morning, or: Smoky Mourning [Sonnet]

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A smoky morning signals chilly air
 as those who live with walls of plastic sheet
  gather anything matches set aflare,
   and huddle where skin reddens from the heat.

The toxic kindling of modernity
 can burn so quickly, swirling into ash.
  The search for fine fuel builds fraternity
   as all sift through the varied kinds of trash.

They seek a slow and steady type of fire,
 but poison and explosive burn aren't linked.
  This toxic gas hangs low, where they inspire,
   a deadly vapor which makes this clan extinct.

Smoldering pit, skirted by serene stiffs --
 of what killed them, there remains no whiff.

Ockham’s Clerihew

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Friar William of Ockham
thought priestly possessions a scam.
Jailed by the Pope,
he slipped the rope.

BOOK REVIEW: Ten Days in a Mad-house by Nellie Bly

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Ten Days in a MadHouse: The Original 1887 Edition ( Nellie Bly's Experience on Blackwell's island )Ten Days in a MadHouse: The Original 1887 Edition by Nellie Bly
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Amazon.in Page

Free Public Domain Version Here

This late 19th century work of immersion journalism tells the tale of Nellie Bly getting herself put into (the aptly nefarious sounding) Blackwell’s Island Insane Asylum for ten days (after which time her editor got her released.) Unlike the famous Rosenhan Experiment in 1973, in 1887 Bly had to get herself committed, and had her editor not gotten her released she might have been institutionalized indefinitely. Disturbingly, yet fortunately for Bly, it took no great acting skills to convince the authorities that she was mentally ill, pretending to be poor and having no husband got her at least 90 percent of the way to being institutionalized. Like the Rosenhan Experiments, Bly’s story showed that nobody seems to have any great capacity for determining sanity from insanity, not even the people with advanced degrees and board certifications on the subject.

At first, I wasn’t sure how skewed Bly’s account would be. She does show some bias in practically deifying journalists. She was confident that no psychiatrist would be able to discover her ploy, but she seemed sure that any journalist could out her through the briefest of conversations. So, when she complained the food was “inedible,” I considered that the same has always been said about any institutional food – from military mess halls to college cafeterias, and usually it’s perfectly adequate. That said, one of the asylum staff members did acknowledge the food was pretty horrific. Ultimately, I think the story was probably accurate because, sadly, it rings true. Bly had intended to get herself put in the violent ward, but had second thoughts after hearing and seeing what she did, being concerned that she might be seriously injured by the rough treatment those patients received.

This short book is riveting. If you enjoy nonfiction, this piece is definitely worth reading.

View all my reviews

Purposeful Pauper [Free Verse]

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a discard pile of lifelines
- money & pseudo-money
- technologies & redundancies

some donated,
some burnt,
&
some left 
to be found 
by the
willing & the grateful

he walked with
a cloak,
a staff,
a satchel,
& a bowl

he walked
until 
it hurt
&
kept walking 
until
his prided died

then took
what was given
&
lived without
what wasn't

everything beyond
food,
water,
&
air
became a burden

while finding
food,
water,
space,
&
the means of
cleanliness
became the sum
of all endeavors

the terror-bliss barrier
took time to break down,
but when it did...

how free he was

DAILY PHOTO: Reflections in Rangsit, Thailand

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Rangsit, Thailand

Rangsit, Thailand

I thought I’d take a break from posting pictures of either monuments to wealth and power or pristine nature scenes. I took this in Rangsit, Thailand, which is a northern suburb of Bangkok out past the Don Muang Airport. I was there studying at the Muay Thai Institute for one week. (Muay Thai is a martial art and the national sport of Thailand.) If you’re curious about what my experience with that was like, I have posts about it here and here.)

It was fascinating to see what a love/hate relationship water has with these people. It nourishes them. It bathes them. But every once in a while it tries to kill them. A kindly restaurateur showed me pictures of his landlocked restaurant underwater during the floods of 2011. At that time the tree tops you see were probably just jutting out of the water– if they weren’t entirely submerged. (I base this on the height of the elevated express way to the left that I think was at water level, based on pictures I’ve seen.)