Recognizing World Aids Day - Remembering My Friend, Joseph Michael Fortney - Author of One Man's Madness: Living With Aids

 

When you have the privilege to work with an author to "create" the book he wanted to leave his family, his friends, and the world of AIDS Victims, You tend not to forget that wonderful, unusual experience. I worked with Joseph as the person behind the scenes who does everything necessary to get many different poems together and in a format for publishing. For those interested in reading more of his poems, here's a link to one that includes a copy of the book cover and one of his poems... Searching on his name will bring up all that I've shared, including my Foreword, also in poetic form. 

On this World Aids Day, I'm helping to spread the word that there has been much improvement in stopping the spread of AIDS. But it has not been deleted as a killer of, now, millions. Joe writes about how he first met the killer which ultimately took his life.

Violated

I awoke one morning

no longer being naive

and quickly became wiser.

For you see,

I was violanted.

But I, too, had to understand,

Against all efforts to keep this from happening,

I was silently violated. . .without warning!

Then, as if someone tossed a bomb at me,

and during the aftermath,

I was changed forever.

I did not ask for this,

No one does.

But this is one violater who doesn't care

as he reaps his way into my soul

and setles in to torment me so.

So now I fight harder than before

and I'm now trying to keep him at bay...

For you see, I don't want to be just another victim

or a number on a slab

I've always wanted to leave a legacy

of who I was,

But now

I'm fighting harder to see to it

I was strong and gave my all.

To show my family that I became something

and also for myself.

I want to make my mark in this world

and "not be forgotten."

~~~

After having gone through years of another pandemic, Covid, I think I and, perhaps, many others, will find much in Joe's words as he shared how he just wished he could be touched...seen...

A Gentle Touch

Since I've become infected, I've lost the most valued feeling anyone could lose

and that's intimacy

There's no longer the huma touch of love.

Sure the verbal reassurances is there,

but not to be touched anymore by your partner

is the greatest pain one can feel.

It's partly due to fear

And I'm not sure of the other.

But I always thought pure intimacy was unconditional, 

even having the knowledge of hou you can and cannot

become as I am now.

I truly yearn for the stroking of my body

and caressing my soul...

I'm not really complaining,

only letting others know how we feel,

Loved, yet, alone.

I'm still the same,

warm and truly deserving of a gentle touch,

and the intimacy I once felt.

Wosh I could turn back the hands of time 

to have that again and not just a memory...

Am I asking for too much?

I realize there are changes

but does this have to be one?

I hold love and intimacy so dear,

so why does this have to be taken from me?

~~~

And then a plea, perhaps feeling his time is short...

Hey Mister Man

Hey Mister Man

Can you help me,

I've fallen and I'm so tired?

Hey Mister Man

Can you carry me,

would I be too much of a burden for you?

Hey Mister Man

Can you help, so I can walk by your side,

instead of laying in your arms?

Hey Mister Man

Can You?

~~~

I believe God is continuing to teach and train and help people learn how to solve the many mysteries of science and those diseases that arrive on earth... Just as he has done to continue to move toward, one day, the total elimination of the AIDS Virus... I hope this day, you may consider how you may participate in this endeavor...  Look for my more thoughts on this soon....

God Bless

Gabbie

A Reblog During 2017 National Poetry Month...From One Man's Madness:Living With Aids by Joseph Michael Fortney...

The following poem was written and used as the Foreword of Joe's Book, for which I did all the work to get his book published... It was a wonderful way to meet and know Joe for a short time and thinking about death over the last few weeks, made me think of one of my own poems written years ago... Excerpts from Joe's poems have been interspersed with mine...

You may remember that Tom Hanks played in Philadelphia many years ago, and I chose him to represent Joe...

Joe sat there, looking just a little bit pale,

watching my face, seeking an answering smile.

 I looked closely and "saw" him coming down a hill;

It was when he was a teen but it seemed just a while.

This young man is dying, much younger than myself;

But his spirit rings aloud, he tries nothing to hide.

We didn't talk of death then, we left it on the shelf.

We talked as new friends about this and that,

the other would abide:

The Unwanted Visitor

(HIV attacks the entire body; it lives within, The virus becomes a living thing; continuity consuming my body...)

I came upon a visitor who was quite unusual to stay the least.

He was charming his way into my soul.

So as he was learning my weaknesses, and strengths,

he began his journey into those places...

and settled in...for a lifetime.

But whose life...his or mine?

I told him how I came to call, about my urge to reach him.

He told me of his need for me, for what he did not know.

I told him chances of publishing a book were very, very slim.

But still, I knew, word after word, from his heart and mind did flow.

Violated

I awoke one morning

no longer being naive

and quickly became wiser.

For you see,

I was violated.

But I, too, had to understand,

Against all efforts to keep this from happening.

I was silently violated...without warning!

His inner life--thoughts, fears and pain, were placed upon those sheets.

I typed them all, delving in deeper and deeper, and then would go back again.

He told of a stranger, frozen, cold and feeding, who stole his body's heat.

I couldn't relate, yet knew how to help, checking his words with my pen.

Choices

...This silent killer's choice is to take...

no matter who or what...

So who has a choice?

or accepting the choices that have already been made.

Choice, how can you define it...

so I can understand it better?

He thanked his "Higher Power;" I asked, do you mean God?"

He shared a male preacher abused him when young,

after that, attending church had been hard.

Many who would hear of my work, would consider it to be strange or odd...

But I knew that his words, from his heart had been wrung, so I

neither stopped nor paused.

Pain,  Pain, Pain

As I try to put into words how I am feeling today,

all I can come up with is PAIN, PAIN, PAIN...

I have been hurting more lately and, by rights, 

this should have

driven a normal man to total madness...

We both knew and agreed, this book must be shared.

For whatever reason, we two had been paired.

God brings folks together, as part of His great plan.

In this case, a single, Christian woman,

and a homosexual man.

Fear

I feel at times like a candle...

Tall and strong, burning brightly in a window,

Letting others know where the life and warm awaits.

I, as well as the candle, know its fears

Just as a candle can grow dark against a strong wind,

so I do my best to stay strong

in hopes that "my" fear never comes...

AIDS is the stranger, killer of lives

Nobody is safe from it; everyone dies.

This young man named Joe fights daily to win

Though his legs now carries him, in a chair, one day, he'll be penned.

Each Day

I feel a chill in my bones

and a smell in the air,

that I haven't smelled in a long time.

My energy is being tapped,

each day as I fight to keep strong.

But it's hard at times when the realities

of this world are cold and cruel...

But the fight and courage keeps him going and going;

How can we not fight, then along side of him?

And if, when needed, we must share God's great love,

For, sometimes, the fire inside the infected grows dim.

Madness

I feel like a mad man...with pen and paper in hand. Writing wilds, putting down all my thoughts no matter how crazy they may be.

So that in some way to let others know how a man's mind goes when living and facing all areas of reality and life being "positive."

My mind races faster than my hand can write because I feel there may not be enough time to tell you everything...then again "Nothing."

If you can understand this simple man's madness, then you are by far a better one that I.

The inner pain almost overrides the Joy I carry. But Love--the one true gift we all have--carries me through the rough times...

Then hug him tight; hold him, as Jesus would.

It's bound to be what God would have you do.

Remember, friend, right now there isn't a cure.

As with the lepers, from His love--take your cue.

Whispers...

Whisper, whisper, whisper. Can't you hear them?

I can

I'm still here, but they treat me as if I'm gone...

What does this mean?

Am I less than I was when I came into see what was wrong?...

Will somebody please hug me?

They claim they care,

but why do they whisper?

AIDS victims are God's children, too;

their lives may be different than yours, friend, or mine

But He sees inside where hearts seek Him true.

And His Love we must offer--the Virus to bind!

GLOBAL STATISTICS

• 15.8 million people accessing antiretroviral therapy (June 2015)
• 36.9 million [34.3 million–41.4 million] people globally were living with HIV (end 2014)
• 2 million [1.9 million–2.2 million] people became newly infected with HIV (end 2014)
• 1.2 million [980 000–1.6 million] people died from AIDS-related illnesses (end 2014)