IN THE SHU I PROMISED MYSELF.......

 In The SHU I promised myself ……

  Alen J Salerian MD

   I spent five days in the SHU. Five days of darkness with daily one-hour visits to a small outdoor cage with steel wires separating me from  other men playing ball ,  shouting  the N word a lot. I wondered why no one cried. We were like dogs barking not sobbing.

   In some sick way I enjoyed the cage.  It's simplicity. So basic. So similar what I did to GUS, my dog. I smiled. At times Gus seemed happy in  the cage. Comfort , familiarity, home? I too did enjoy the cage.

 There were two friends there. The governor and Rodney. An African-American candidate for governor of Texas was a huge fellow who did not realize that his chances of becoming the next governor of Texas was not very good. Rodney loudly protested the forced injections of Haldol twisting his tongue .” I am suffocating man. You are uncle Tom” he kept shouting at the guards watching us.

   I did a lot of thinking in the SHU.

   Strangely I kept thinking about all my unfinished projects.

    I'm an unfinished man. Or I am a man of unfinished dreams, excellent in building a fantastic imaginary world .

   I started a museum project in Istanbul  for Armenian Turks killed in the 1915 genocide. I hooked up with Hrant Dink and found the building to house the museum. My mother called me crazy. I got spooked after red flags and quit. Hrant and I embraced each other. I was tearful. He was mad. He never forgave me . A few months later Hrant got assassinated. That was seven years ago. And I wrote a poem.

Hrant talked to me this morning

AlenJ Salerian MD

Hrant talked to me this morning

When the wind blew

The wind

 From Kinali

Brisk

Refreshing

 Melodic

Gentle

 Sounds of Ali ,Ara

 Joy of brotherhood..

Hrant talked to me this morning

Love not pink, red ,yellow, tall, short ,Muslim ,or Jew

Love is no jungle;

Bonding

 Hearing the  winds

 Wounds healing

Volcanic, pent-up pain

 Not Kurdish Turkish Greek Laz or Armenian

Ancient pain

 Valleys  of Ararat , Kars, Malatya   

Old  ,fresh 

 Salt pepper and blood.

I talked to Hrant this morning

Is magic Ali chanting Hrant?

Is love  red pink orange  Dora Metin seeping coffee?

Mimar Sinan watching azaleas bloom

On  shoulders of Bosporus?

I smiled this morning

 When the wind blew

 I smelled Istanbul

Sense of  yu

Illusion?

Delusion?

Chimes of wind bells

The  robust scent of “cay”

 I heard your whisper

Merhaba Hrant

Hrant Yu” kardes”

 Don't part

 Stay

 Help us

 Till  jungle  calms .

Hrant talked to me this morning

The   chimes of wind bells

 Squirrels ran

I listened …..

“Love is life, love is sand, pebbles, swimming in clouds

Love is heat, heart ,pain ,pink, red, gypsy and plenty of wind

And wind is human

Forgiveness divine

I’m the wind

I’ll always be

Yu whispered

 I also started a JFK Museum project in Washington DC. .  The DEA raid on my home and office destroyed  the Museum.

  I built a sculpture garden outside of my office in northwest Washington DC. It went down too.  The landlord did not like it.

   How about our dream house on the Outer Banks overlooking England? Not a big hurricane but just small assaults by the ocean let my house sink.

  And my centers. The Salerian Center for neuroscience and pain. A center totally dedicated to science and HIPPOCRATES. Where is it now? And where is doctors for equal rights for people with mental and physical pain?

And where are my JFK paintings? Auctioned off. On eBay.

And I write poetry and what have I done with them?

Here I'm in the cage with the next governor of Texas and Rodney.

 In The SHU I promised myself ……

  Alen J Salerian MD

   I spent five days in the SHU. Five days of darkness with daily one-hour visits to a small outdoor cage with steel wires separating me from  other men playing ball ,  shouting  the N word a lot. I wondered why no one cried. We were like dogs barking not sobbing.

   In some sick way I enjoyed the cage.  It's simplicity. So basic. So similar what I did to GUS, my dog. I smiled. At times Gus seemed happy in  the cage. Comfort , familiarity, home? I too did enjoy the cage.

 There were two friends there. The governor and Rodney. An African-American candidate for governor of Texas was a huge fellow who did not realize that his chances of becoming the next governor of Texas was not very good. Rodney loudly protested the forced injections of Haldol twisting his tongue .” I am suffocating man. You are uncle Tom” he kept shouting at the guards watching us.

   I did a lot of thinking in the SHU.

   Strangely I kept thinking about all my unfinished projects.

    I'm an unfinished man. Or I am a man of unfinished dreams, excellent in building a fantastic imaginary world .

   I started a museum project in Istanbul  for Armenian Turks killed in the 1915 genocide. I hooked up with Hrant Dink and found the building to house the museum. My mother called me crazy. I got spooked after red flags and quit. Hrant and I embraced each other. I was tearful. He was mad. He never forgave me . A few months later Hrant got assassinated. That was seven years ago. And I wrote a poem.

Hrant talked to me this morning

AlenJ Salerian MD

Hrant talked to me this morning

When the wind blew

The wind

 From Kinali

Brisk

Refreshing

 Melodic

Gentle

 Sounds of Ali ,Ara

 Joy of brotherhood..

Hrant talked to me this morning

Love not pink, red ,yellow, tall, short ,Muslim ,or Jew

Love is no jungle;

Bonding

 Hearing the  winds

 Wounds healing

Volcanic, pent-up pain

 Not Kurdish Turkish Greek Laz or Armenian

Ancient pain

 Valleys  of Ararat , Kars, Malatya   

Old  ,fresh 

 Salt pepper and blood.

I talked to Hrant this morning

Is magic Ali chanting Hrant?

Is love  red pink orange  Dora Metin seeping coffee?

Mimar Sinan watching azaleas bloom

On  shoulders of Bosporus?

I smiled this morning

 When the wind blew

 I smelled Istanbul

Sense of  yu

Illusion?

Delusion?

Chimes of wind bells

The  robust scent of “cay”

 I heard your whisper

Merhaba Hrant

Hrant Yu” kardes”

 Don't part

 Stay

 Help us

 Till  jungle  calms .

Hrant talked to me this morning

The   chimes of wind bells

 Squirrels ran

I listened …..

“Love is life, love is sand, pebbles, swimming in clouds

Love is heat, heart ,pain ,pink, red, gypsy and plenty of wind

And wind is human

Forgiveness divine

I’m the wind

I’ll always be

Yu whispered

 I also started a JFK Museum project in Washington DC. .  The DEA raid on my home and office destroyed  the Museum.

  I built a sculpture garden outside of my office in northwest Washington DC. It went down too.  The landlord did not like it.

   How about our dream house on the Outer Banks overlooking England? Not a big hurricane but just small assaults by the ocean let my house sink.

  And my centers. The Salerian Center for neuroscience and pain. A center totally dedicated to science and HIPPOCRATES. Where is it now? And where is doctors for equal rights for people with mental and physical pain?

And where are my JFK paintings? Auctioned off. On eBay.

And I write poetry and what have I done with them?

Here I'm in the cage with the next governor of Texas and Rodney.

   I promised myself in the cage that before I die I must at least finish one project.