"Warrior Child"
I am young
I have a splendid affair with books and trinkets
I do not know the difference between right and wrong
and I have not eaten the apple off the tree in the garden of Eden or spoken to the serpent with the slick tongue
I am young
I am innocent and blushing unknowingly guilty through my blood
I do not want a lakeside mansion or Ferrari garage
I am happy enough to beat off the backs of garbage can lids and play pretend with my friends
I am young
I can soak up the sunshine, run my fingers through my thick, silky hair
and still not worry about reflections on skyscraper windows or what all the other kids
think I should be doing
I am free
like the eagle of the bluff
I soar to heights enormous
beyond any television show imagination;
unboxed and limitless
I run with the deer through wildflower meadows, I eat the ferns off the forest floor and I steal the farmer's corn
I am a dancing coyote of a time playing Russian roulette with 12 gauge shot guns and orange cotton vests
I am a fearless warrior
I am young
© 2010 Seamus Kevin Orion Fitzgerald
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
BIOGRAPHICAL-CALL OUT-CONFESSIONAL because it wouldn't fit in the "About me Section"
Born in St. Paul, MN at St. Joseph's Hospital and growing up most of my life in a small, rural town of Southern Minnesota would be an understatement. Truthfully I was born between two people and an ongoing foray with the deemed 'illegal' underground of the state and nation. I will not testify as to what activities have been acted or what are in action, if any, but I will say, there is salvation by fire.
Around the age of 13 I had grown heavily disillusioned with the world-- perhaps only realizing the reality that was around me my whole life, perhaps not--either way I was shattered. Now to save you from boring, depressive drab I will spare the details, but I find it necessary to give you some picture of my past as it is what has built both my strengths and weaknesses as of the current present and coming future.
After suffering the social decapitation of my early teenage years--going in and out of Saint Mary's psychiatric department twice and landing myself on medication and probation for possession of Marijuana in a motor vehicle, I was finally convinced that something WAS very wrong about my situation.
In January of 2008, at the age of 16, I shadowed Avalon High school of St. Paul, Mn.I dropped the meds and the following Autumn I began my enrollment. For the next two years I began undergoing a tremendous shift in my ways of thinking and being in the world. My social anxiety was waning, creativity growing (thanks to those around me) and my physical health improving dramatically. Then the girlfriend. Suddenly I found myself caught by "love', or what a 17 year old 'newbie' only can conceive as love being, either way I was hooked. Within two months I lost my virginity, took a small liking to the warmth of vodka and smoked more weed than I needed. It's funny how love, blinds you from healthful reality. To make a long story short--girlfriend broke up with me--my heart broke and I quickly retreated back to the social awkwardness of my seemingly "wasted" youth. I turned to writing. I had always had a interest in the medium, but soon I found myself more than interested in the readings and small, random scratches of pen to paper. I soon plunged myself into a large project on Epics. Reading the "Odyssey", "Illiad" and "Epic of Gilgamesh" along with attempting to write my own epic story/poem/narrative. I only got six pages in be the time the project was finished, but I had found a new set of interests. Mythology, religion and poetry were now making them selves very apparent to me and I was turning to them for 'something'.
As my senior came looming on the horizon, I had to start thinking about my "Senior Project." I tossed and tumbled a million ideas around. I kicked and screamed in sudden anticipation of perceived "OPUS" and perceived, "NO, that's not it" until I finally settled on, I have to do it all. I choose to study art, philosophy and poetry. So, for the next year I compiled all my paintings, drawings, random napkins, words and meditations into one large, cut-up wallpaper book. (I will post the pictures when I get access to me lap top again, as for now I have only poetry.)
For this project I was mentored under the Minneapolis based poet, Kevin O' Rourke. For some odd reason he thought my poetry was good and really helped push me in my poetic direction. So, after working 423 hours over the course of a year and chaotically presenting all my work in 30 minutes, I graduated Avalon High with honor, A grades and a passion;poetry.
Now, all that sounds great, but, like all things in this world, it did not come without struggle. Through out the year there were some shotty seas. I got into a little 'debaucle' with my former roommates over money. I felt I lost trust in someone who I had seen as a friend and I grew more and more frustrated with my parents and their failings. Not only that, but my buried feelings of resentment led to yet again, social decapitation.
Despite the turbulence, shortly after graduation I departed for the Sundance with Kevin O' Rourke and family and then to the Sun of New Mexico to try my hand at WWOOFing and pursue my other interests, travel and organic agriculture. I can't say I have so far had more evolution in three months than those I spent at the Sundance and in the Sun of Northern New Mexico. I soon found myself in a new world. As transient as the nature was, I felt, for the first time in a long time, stable. After finishing up my stay at the Abominable Snow Mansion--in Arroyo Seco, NM-- I had to return home to take care of some banking and renewing my I.D.
I hitched a ride with a couple friends from the farm and on the way back I realized that the road was where a really wanted to be; that my childhood dream of vagabonding was tangible, not easy, but possible.
Now, I sit here writing this biography/confessional/ramble in a mood that seems to be reflected in the cold gray of an October sky.I haven't written much poetry, or at least any that doesn't get crumpled into dust(except today;my first post!)and my disposition can only be described as, "DomestiCITY Blues".
Then-- today, October 27th, 2010 I had the idea to start a blog. I have been reading up on travel writing and photography and really have nothing else to do. (looking for part-time/temp work at the moment to make funds)After readin' all the success stories of other once aspiring travel writers and plain DIY journalists and photographers I thought, "If they did, then certainly I can too." And, so, despite my recent lack of motivation I realized I can not betray my heart. And my heart says, "Move brother move."
So, to conclude I created this blog with the intention of sharing my creative endeavors not only in writing but, in spirit. I hope that my future readers will enjoy this future site and it's hopeful evolution. And hell, even share their own ideas and stories, pictures, letters, recordings, praises and helpful criticisms. So here is to the future, may it be bright and ever broad. May we, together, be able to accept life as it is and as it comes and as we all have made it and to change it if necessary. May the future be made whole, good and always possible. May we take responsibility for what our hands have wrought and our minds have spun.
hope this is not too sappy and ahead of schedule for a first time blogger's biographical-call out-confessional.
Here is to a start,
Seamus Kevin Orion Fitzgerald
Around the age of 13 I had grown heavily disillusioned with the world-- perhaps only realizing the reality that was around me my whole life, perhaps not--either way I was shattered. Now to save you from boring, depressive drab I will spare the details, but I find it necessary to give you some picture of my past as it is what has built both my strengths and weaknesses as of the current present and coming future.
After suffering the social decapitation of my early teenage years--going in and out of Saint Mary's psychiatric department twice and landing myself on medication and probation for possession of Marijuana in a motor vehicle, I was finally convinced that something WAS very wrong about my situation.
In January of 2008, at the age of 16, I shadowed Avalon High school of St. Paul, Mn.I dropped the meds and the following Autumn I began my enrollment. For the next two years I began undergoing a tremendous shift in my ways of thinking and being in the world. My social anxiety was waning, creativity growing (thanks to those around me) and my physical health improving dramatically. Then the girlfriend. Suddenly I found myself caught by "love', or what a 17 year old 'newbie' only can conceive as love being, either way I was hooked. Within two months I lost my virginity, took a small liking to the warmth of vodka and smoked more weed than I needed. It's funny how love, blinds you from healthful reality. To make a long story short--girlfriend broke up with me--my heart broke and I quickly retreated back to the social awkwardness of my seemingly "wasted" youth. I turned to writing. I had always had a interest in the medium, but soon I found myself more than interested in the readings and small, random scratches of pen to paper. I soon plunged myself into a large project on Epics. Reading the "Odyssey", "Illiad" and "Epic of Gilgamesh" along with attempting to write my own epic story/poem/narrative. I only got six pages in be the time the project was finished, but I had found a new set of interests. Mythology, religion and poetry were now making them selves very apparent to me and I was turning to them for 'something'.
As my senior came looming on the horizon, I had to start thinking about my "Senior Project." I tossed and tumbled a million ideas around. I kicked and screamed in sudden anticipation of perceived "OPUS" and perceived, "NO, that's not it" until I finally settled on, I have to do it all. I choose to study art, philosophy and poetry. So, for the next year I compiled all my paintings, drawings, random napkins, words and meditations into one large, cut-up wallpaper book. (I will post the pictures when I get access to me lap top again, as for now I have only poetry.)
For this project I was mentored under the Minneapolis based poet, Kevin O' Rourke. For some odd reason he thought my poetry was good and really helped push me in my poetic direction. So, after working 423 hours over the course of a year and chaotically presenting all my work in 30 minutes, I graduated Avalon High with honor, A grades and a passion;poetry.
Now, all that sounds great, but, like all things in this world, it did not come without struggle. Through out the year there were some shotty seas. I got into a little 'debaucle' with my former roommates over money. I felt I lost trust in someone who I had seen as a friend and I grew more and more frustrated with my parents and their failings. Not only that, but my buried feelings of resentment led to yet again, social decapitation.
Despite the turbulence, shortly after graduation I departed for the Sundance with Kevin O' Rourke and family and then to the Sun of New Mexico to try my hand at WWOOFing and pursue my other interests, travel and organic agriculture. I can't say I have so far had more evolution in three months than those I spent at the Sundance and in the Sun of Northern New Mexico. I soon found myself in a new world. As transient as the nature was, I felt, for the first time in a long time, stable. After finishing up my stay at the Abominable Snow Mansion--in Arroyo Seco, NM-- I had to return home to take care of some banking and renewing my I.D.
I hitched a ride with a couple friends from the farm and on the way back I realized that the road was where a really wanted to be; that my childhood dream of vagabonding was tangible, not easy, but possible.
Now, I sit here writing this biography/confessional/ramble in a mood that seems to be reflected in the cold gray of an October sky.I haven't written much poetry, or at least any that doesn't get crumpled into dust(except today;my first post!)and my disposition can only be described as, "DomestiCITY Blues".
Then-- today, October 27th, 2010 I had the idea to start a blog. I have been reading up on travel writing and photography and really have nothing else to do. (looking for part-time/temp work at the moment to make funds)After readin' all the success stories of other once aspiring travel writers and plain DIY journalists and photographers I thought, "If they did, then certainly I can too." And, so, despite my recent lack of motivation I realized I can not betray my heart. And my heart says, "Move brother move."
So, to conclude I created this blog with the intention of sharing my creative endeavors not only in writing but, in spirit. I hope that my future readers will enjoy this future site and it's hopeful evolution. And hell, even share their own ideas and stories, pictures, letters, recordings, praises and helpful criticisms. So here is to the future, may it be bright and ever broad. May we, together, be able to accept life as it is and as it comes and as we all have made it and to change it if necessary. May the future be made whole, good and always possible. May we take responsibility for what our hands have wrought and our minds have spun.
hope this is not too sappy and ahead of schedule for a first time blogger's biographical-call out-confessional.
Here is to a start,
Seamus Kevin Orion Fitzgerald
Informal Introductions
To World,
I have just been born.
My feet are still wet.
I am hungry. Feed me.
Hope is absent.
Only time and space exist.
They culminate in my vocal feelings.
Like a spider, I spin
my silous web forth into the world
I am a tree, a leech, a moth
hanging from lamp posts and lit balconies
I am the wind whirling through you
I am fire and water and earth
I am life craving to be realized.
Please, teach me to walk.
teach me to talk,
to spin yarns and thread stories-- around fires,
to ho fields, till soil and knead bread,
to fill homes and stomachs with warmth
to carve figurines from stone and mold dreams from sand
show me what is to be human
show me what it is to be you.
© 2010, Seamus Kevin Orion Fitzgerald.
I have just been born.
My feet are still wet.
I am hungry. Feed me.
Hope is absent.
Only time and space exist.
They culminate in my vocal feelings.
Like a spider, I spin
my silous web forth into the world
I am a tree, a leech, a moth
hanging from lamp posts and lit balconies
I am the wind whirling through you
I am fire and water and earth
I am life craving to be realized.
Please, teach me to walk.
teach me to talk,
to spin yarns and thread stories-- around fires,
to ho fields, till soil and knead bread,
to fill homes and stomachs with warmth
to carve figurines from stone and mold dreams from sand
show me what is to be human
show me what it is to be you.
© 2010, Seamus Kevin Orion Fitzgerald.
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