House Rules

Sit up straight don’t slouch.
Stop crying I will give you something to cry for.
Don’t answer back.
Pull yourself together.
Do as I say pay attention.
Don’t fidget sit still.

Those who ask don’t get.
Those who don’t ask don’t want.
If the wind changes your face will stay like that.
Speak when you are spoken to.
Little girls should be seen and not heard.
You must make the best of yourself.

If you don’t abide by my rules you can leave.

Don’t stare it’s rude to stare.
Stop that now rude girl.

I am not staring I am looking.
I am searching I am yearning.

Where are you?

Kathleen Freeman

Choosing one poem from among the many fine pieces Kathleen has written so far was a rather hard decision. You can see more of her work and keep up with her latest posts at http://kathylambie.blog.com.

Rick’s work, if it is anything, is transformative. It holds out in optimism that by courageously facing the child we were, we can create a more rewarding future for the adult we want to become.

You can read his full post in its entirety at Men’s Well-Being.

In other “IMFO in the UK” news, another counselor based in the United Kingdom, John Kennett of Kent Counselling for Men, recently added Iron Man Family Outing to his Amazon UK Listmania list “Men, masculinity and maturity”, describing the book as a “raw and powerful means of accessing the inaccessible.”

In response to this recent UK news, a friend remarked to me via email, “I do think it is great that Iron Man is offered for sale in English pounds.” I have to agree.

I’m the scapegoat
I’m the mole
I’m the one they blame.

I’m the one who wouldn’t pretend
I’m the one who wouldn’t buy in
I’m the one who broke the rules
I’m the one who broke the pact.

I’m the one who broke the seal
I’m the one who broke the silence
I’m the one who spilled the beans
I’m the one who has the problem.

I’m the one who put down his cross
I’m the one who jumped off the train
I’m the one who’s got it wrong
I’m the one who doesn’t belong.

I’m the black sheep
I’m the scapegoat
I’m the mole
I’m the one who told.

I’m the judas
I’m the traitor
I’m the one they blame.

(PDF version)

The group will do a small amount of reading each week from writings by David Deida, Rick Belden, Chogyam Trungpa and others as a starting point for seeing our full role in the world. These writings have very different takes on the journey, and we will work with their ideas to find our own path.

Click here to read the full announcement about the group.

This group, which will be held at Sol Associates in Austin, looks like it will be a great opportunity for everyone who attends, and I’m honored that some of my work will be included as a resource for the group.

For additional information, contact group facilitators Steve Milan and Shelley Imholte.

Update (09/04/09): I’ve been informed that the facilitators of this group will also be using material from my new, yet-to-be-published book, Scapegoat’s Cross, in the group. I’m very happy to see this new material being put to such good use so soon.

In her comments about my book, Rebecca said:

What a treat to read such an authentic and heartfelt book. Through the use of poetry Belden tells his story of growing up with an abusive father. Belden allows the reader an insight into his heart and takes us along in his struggles to claim a conscious manhood. If you are looking for pretty poetry, this isn’t the book. This is raw, truthful, and captures both the darkness and the lightness of meeting one’s past. While Iron Man Family Outing may seem to be for men, it helped me as a woman have a better understanding of what men may be going through within themselves.

You can read her full post in its entirety at The Mindful Beat.

Rick Belden is a fellow Austinite who has written a book, Iron Man Family Outing, of healing poetry about his own personal journey of growing up male in American society. His poetry is moving and poignant. His descriptions of his family, himself and his relationships strike a chord with everyone with whom I’ve shared them. I highly recommend this book.

You can read her full post in its entirety at Kellevision and also at Kellen’s blog at Intent.com.

Kellen’s recent post “Making Yourself a Target: Replicating the Scapegoat Role in Your Life – How to Stop Doing It” is yet another insightful entry in her excellent ongoing series on the the role of the scapegoat in dysfunctional family systems. This is a subject that deserves far more attention than it gets, in my opinion. I’m grateful to Kellen for shedding some light on the experience and the dynamics of the scapegoat role, and for providing practical, helpful information for those who need it.

* The Body – Thoughts – Feelings Connection

* Depressive Realism

* Self Care

The Kellevision blog has been up for a little over a year. It contains a wealth of perceptive, practical information about psychological health and self care, and is updated regularly. I plan to revisit it often to explore the archives as well as to keep up with the latest posts. Highly recommended.

* Jason Fierstein of Phoenix Men’s Counseling praised the book’s “use of metaphor” and said the “poems are very transformational, and really give a voice to the modern male experience – one which is frequently (and unfortunately) not discussed.”

* Jack Kammer of The Center for Men and Boys in Social Policy commented on the isolation many men feel with their so-called “personal problems” and said the book “makes it unmistakably clear that any man who sometimes feels alienated from his best hopes and from his own, best, most cherished view of himself is most decidedly not alone.”

* Life/Executive Coach Sean Casey LeClaire said that “Belden explores the shadow side of the male journey” and added that the book “comes at a wonderful time, as millions of men find themselves without work … the opportunity to face themselves with courage and decency, which Rick’s poems do, is most timely.”

The complete archive of reviews for the book is available at http://rickbelden.com/reviews.

my dad seems unhappy + remorseful about his life
not the angry man I knew
he seems sad about his relationship with me + anxious
to make some kind of connection between us.

he + I are standing in the
big doorway of the garage he built
this is dad’s territory
mom stays in the house.

he gives me a real old iron man comic book
but first he goes through it
tearing out stuff he says I’m not supposed to see
stuff that has something to do with work
his deletions appear random to me
I can’t see a pattern of anything sensitive
in what he removes.

he describes in great detail the way iron man moves
including the precise number of seconds it takes
for iron man to respond to an attack
then dad asks me how long it takes
for me to respond to an attack.

the iron man comic he gives me is a one time only
special issue
this is the one I’ve been searching for
the one where iron man’s face mask changes
from pointed + horned
to rounded + smooth.

in this issue
iron man reveals that he is actually a monk
when questioned
he explains that the monk is the other side of
his usual playboy/inventor/materialist identity.

in the dream
I recognize this comic book as
a very special gift from my dad
something important to him
something he’s saved for a long time
it’s a peace offering
something we both value.

in the dream
I feel touched yet saddened
our communication is still so indirect.

a comic book is no substitute
for a warm hug + loving words
between a father + a son.

(PDF version | Video version)

what’s the half-life of a lousy childhood?
stranglehold tentacles
come out of a house where
nobody I know lives anymore
body and soul clench like a fist
when that hairy hand tries to pull me down
I need lights
I need noise
I need naked female flesh all around
else I implode.

how do I give up what I don’t understand?
this home isn’t broken it’s blown to hell.

now here’s a place where I can be unhappy in peace
totally safe and unbelievable
a crime against everything I was brought up to be
a slap in the face to that guy who thinks
he knows how it’s supposed to be done
a tight connection to all those old friends
I thought I’d left behind
whores just like me
who knows what they sell themselves for?

last chance for ro-mance
take care of these ladies and they’ll take care of you
why do I need this?

the weird thing is I don’t even see
most of these women anymore
not even as objects.

can’t buy a thrill?
sometimes I can sometimes I can’t but
I don’t need a thrill
I need a break.

(PDF version | Video version)

my mum (say a little prayer for her) is 90

My mother is a crumbling building.

My mother is a rusted out car up on blocks
in the front yard whose engine is sound
and who longs for the thrill of the highway.

My mother is a story that doesn’t know how to
be told, and doesn’t know how to end, and
doesn’t even know what the superheroes could
do to help save her.

My mother is a boat on its way to Europe
in a thunderstorm.

My mother is a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie.

My mother is an Angel Food cake.

My mother is a nature lover, a fresh air lover,
a flower lover, a great view lover, a sunset lover,
a people lover, a very gentle soul.

When she thinks about herself my mother’s
brain is a wasp nest, her nerves are an
electrical fire, she feels like a racehorse
locked inside a burning barn.

My mother never meant anyone harm.

My mother is a caterpillar that is restless
in the cocoon and wants to be a butterfly.

David Jewell

David’s fine spoken word piece “grandfather” is a great companion to the above poem.

A few highlights from recently posted reviews:

* Dr. Martin Srajek, Director of the Center for Men and Masculinity, wrote an expansive review that provides one of the most thorough, nuanced commentaries on the book to date.

* Graeme Daniels of Self in Addiction wrote a detailed, perceptive review that included specific comments on some of the individual poems. Graeme also posted some additional review comments on the book and on specific poems in the reader reviews section of this blog.

* Tom Golden of Crisis, Grief, and Healing emphasized that the book’s portrayal of “the masculine style of healing through creativity” provides useful insights for women as well as for men.

The complete archive of reviews for the book is available at http://rickbelden.com/reviews.

I used to see them drive by sometimes
when I was little + I’d get all excited.

I always wanted to go for a ride with my grandfathers
in their dumptrucks but mom + dad said don’t ask
’cause it’s against the rules for grandfathers
to let their grandsons ride in those
official new york state
blue + yellow dumptrucks.

that was pretty hard for me to understand at the time.

anyway I got older + started feeling smart + then
the next thing I knew I felt kind of goofy + ashamed
whenever I saw my grandfathers working
on the side of the road or driving by in their trucks
especially if I was with my friends.

at that point in my life
I couldn’t believe I’d ever wanted to
ride in some dirty old dumptruck
but if one of my grandfathers
drove up in one today + offered me a ride
I’d jump right in.

(PDF version)

I feel compassion + tenderness for this
frightened young man who took on too much
a family he was ill-prepared to handle.

I know some of his fear
I feel it myself in my own life every day
the fear of being a bad father
the fear of being a father too soon
the fear of losing my life + my dreams to
the demands of a wife + a child
he has good reason to be afraid
he looks lonely
no one’s taught him how to do this
nobody’s backing him up.

I feel his loneliness + his fear for the first time
not in my head but in my heart + my gut
I’m surprised to feel such thorough compassion for him
as he was at that time
I’m so used to hating the man I knew as my father
angry insensitive frightening hateful cruel
I don’t feel comfortable identifying with
this man I’ve cast as my personal demon.

this dream frightens me because I’m afraid I’m like him
but it also encourages me
it tells me that
maybe I’m beginning to see him as a person
instead of a demon
maybe I’m beginning to let go of him at last.

(PDF version | Video version)

he had a lot of leg cramps at night
he called that a goddam charley horse
I used to wake up with intense pain in my leg
the leg I broke
trying to catch up with him
when I was first learning to walk.

sometimes we’d both wake up at the same time
on the same night
I liked this because I got to spend some quiet time
alone with him.

I never wanted to go back to bed on those nights
we’d sit in the living room or the kitchen
in the dark or with a dim light on
he seemed more open in those moments
I didn’t feel like he hated me then
maybe it was because he was sleepy
or in pain.

those were special occasions for me
nothing to accomplish or be judged on
we each had our own pain
similar but not the same
he was empathetic
I felt connected to him.

in those brief moments
I always felt that I was just like him
just like I always wanted to be.

(PDF version | Video version)

he went to work every day in the new moon werewolf factory
which specialized in producing mechanical men
prone to blown gasket meltdowns.

living with dynamite dick was like
eating a barbed wire sandwich
while soaking in an acid bath hot tub
during a thunderbolt crossfire.

his mouth was a non-stop blasphemy festival.

he was a walking argument with god
and his obstinance was rewarded
with numerous lightning rod enemas.

dynamite dick fell in love with a french kiss steamroller
and used his powers of hostility to turn her into an angry farm girl.

he ordered a standup fistfight
but found himself in a tunnel vision break dance
and wound up in the wish list penalty box
with a bad case of
overload hammerlocks.

dynamite dick was raised by a family of feuding tomahawks
and grew up to be an angry ax.

his childhood was a frozen tar pit full of bellowing dinosaurs
who wanted out and ate anyone who tried to lend a hand.

now dynamite dick works on his prostate scrapbook
and seeks safety in numbness.

his life was a raw deal
and he knew it
and he passed that raw deal on
to everyone he could
every chance he got.

(PDF version)

I’m a spiritual child who grows up
being told + shown that
god is just a sunday morning pain in the ass
waiting for me to screw up
so he can rip my life to shreds.

I’m a passionate child who grows up
being told + shown that
feelings are unacceptable + dangerous
to myself + others.

I’m a creative child who grows up
being told + shown that
adults don’t have time to be creative.

I’m an honest child who grows up
being told + shown that
I’m always supposed to tell the truth but
it’s usually safer + more acceptable to lie.

I’m an independent child who grows up
being told + shown that
going my own way leads to rejection + disaster.

I’m an intuitive child who grows up
being told + shown that
I need a logical justification for
everything I do say + feel.

I’m a smiling child who grows up
being told + shown that
laughter is the best medicine but
happy people usually get punished somehow.

I’m an energetic child who grows up
being told + shown that
I’m not doing enough because I’m lazy.

I’m a gifted child who grows up
being told + shown that
my contributions aren’t very important in this world.

I’m a curious child who grows up
being told + shown that
self-awareness endangers the family
so I’d better not question things too much.

I’m a patient child who grows up
being told + shown that
there’s not enough time
I’m going too slow
everyone’s tired of waiting for me.

I’m a bright child who grows up
being told + shown that
the brain is where it’s at but
people who make a living with their brains
are lazy bastards.

I’m a trusting child who grows up
being told + shown that
I don’t deserve to be trusted + trust
opens the door to abuse.

I’m a hopeful child who grows up
being told + shown that
life is a series of unhappy events + disasters
so don’t expect too much.

I’m an innocent child who grows up
being told + shown that
I’m a bad boy + I oughta be ashamed of myself.

I’m an open-hearted child who grows up
being told + shown that
I’ll never be good enough
I’ll never be loved enough
I’ll never be man enough.

I’m a sad frightened
lonely needy
raging hurting child.

(PDF version)