Francisco Paco "Paco" Docampo

NOTE: Following the Obituary section are two more sections. One is entitled "Poems Written for Paco" and these poems were written by Paco's niece, Tenille Docampo, and his nephews, Ben Austin-Docampo, Griffin Stirts, and Evan Stirts, and they were read at his church memorial service on February 17, 2010. The second section is entitled "Paco's Poems" and these poems were written by Paco in his journal. The three featured here are the ones we read at his memorial service.

Arrangements under the direction of Crist Mortuary, 3395 Penrose Place, Boulder, CO 80301, Ph: 303.442.4411

Francisco “Paco” Docampo

Francisco “Paco” Docampo, 52, passed away on February 10, 2010 in Boulder, CO from Epilepsy. He was born October 20, 1957 in New Orleans, LA to Benjamin and Alida Docampo.

Francisco, an artist at heart, had a high school education. Some of his interests included hiking, drawing and sports. Francisco’s generous spirit and gregarious laughter will be missed.

Survivors include his siblings, Pedro Docampo, Eduardo Docampo, Isabel Docampo and Lila Stirts and his six nieces and nephews. He is preceded in death by his father, his grandparents and an uncle.

Church services will be held at Second Baptist Church, 5300 Baseline Road, Boulder, CO at 11:00 a.m. on February 17, 2010. Interment to follow at Mountain View Memorial Cemetery, 3016 Kalmia Avenue, Boulder, CO 80301.

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POEMS WRITTEN FOR PACO

There is no other, Tio

Swinging loudly

hyena laughter absorbing

the tid bits,

filling my bubble to the brim

nothing but ecstatic heights

can fill this moment with Tio.

Crystal bunny in my room

from him, is him

delicate

full of relfections for my eye

to catch and my heart to layer.

Blue mountains are the edge,

small boot prints next to mine

keeping my step

moving into my younger rhythm

cautious to hold my place

protectively

nurturing my discovery

walking for me

opening his life up

to feed mine with hope

lessons

more laughter

always laughter...

soft soul

bursting with

gifts,

handing them out

to anyone

his own make

his own mind

his own love

free to us

the only one

the only words

the only vision

to us, for us

from Paco.

He knows now

his specialty,

all the worth

of him

why he encompassed

many, many

strands

thick, long, wide,

the entire spectrum

with each of us wrapped in a bit

to his center.

He let us pick

which one to hold,

which color to savor,

which thread to kiss and keep as our own

piece of love.

-- Written by: Tenille Docampo, 33-year-old niece, February 14, 2010

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He knew

Love, invisible bonds that tie spirits together through laughter, sadness, but like a phoenix loves' bonds arise again through the ashes of hatred to be stronger in everyway, he knew.

He knew that passion was his blade and love his shield, a paladin, knowing in the darkest of places he would find light. Never afraid, shielded by love he was invincible, living life how he wanted to live it.

He knew he was the cactus of our lives, appered spikey but on the inside sweet cool water that nourish our life and lifts us.

He knew that life was teaching people in the smallest ways but in memory, the richest lessons. A true adventurer with only himself to make his treasure map.

He knew that love was an ocean, gentle, deep, fierce, and to sail its waves would take bravery, but followed the light of his dream cloud and sailed ashore, and his footsteps in the sand vanished by the wind, he ventured forth through thick, dark, cold forests. But he was never alone, he cleaned his blade, polished his shield and continued with unbreakable bravery.

Beyond blue mountains and the dark green carpet of pines, across rivers over gaps, through golden fields and crystal caves.

Finally

He knew

That at long last

He had discovered

True love

He knew

That true love is born with the hardships of life, and he knew that when crossing to his paradise, would he make our love invincible from the hardest part of every love.

He loved

He cared

He knew.

--- Written by Griffin Stirts, 14-year-old nephew, February 14, 2010

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One of Griffin's favorite quotes: "Do not ask for easy lives, ask to be stronger men" -John F. Kennedy

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Warrior Poet

You are a warrior poet

splattering inky drops of

blood on scraps of lined paper

coffee shop receipts

crumpled napkins

forgotten about until they

reappear wadded up inside

your jean pockets.

Your words are thrown aside

by the frenzied passion

the stubborn blaze

you live your life by

the one that consumes you

with the intensity of a funeral pyre

fit for a warrior king of old.

Tossed thoughtlessly into trashcans

rendered indecipherable

by the heat of your

apartment building’s dryer, or

lost forever in the sticky nether regions

of your shitty old car

your words are ruined, forgotten, lost

almost as quickly as you write them down.

You are a warrior poet

furiously waging his own battle

deftly landing blow after

blow on your great enemy

but the wounds you inflict

only score the flesh of

your own tired body

who are you fighting again?

Behind your unrelenting façade

of intransigent talk, acutely

beheading all of your closest ties

you recognize the futility of your fight

and still charge recklessly

shamelessly, into the chasm

of your own design. The chasm

where you expect to find your

illusory enemy waiting at the bottom

with ranks in file, swords drawn.

Letter by letter,

syllable by syllable

your words are forgotten

you are forgotten.

But still you write.

Putting your thoughts to paper

in deceptively hopeful stanzas

obsessively filling any blank space

with your idle musings

tiny master strokes of literary genius

that you seem fit to throw away

as if they were nothing.

You are a lesser Picasso

rebuking your own prolific-ness.

Still, beneath the false hope

your true, earthy brown voice emerges

in those rare moments your words

are poured over by other’s eyes.

Brazenly unapologetic

unmistakably your own.

---- Written by Ben Austin Docampo, 24-year-old nephew, May 13, 2005

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Paco's Story

I was around the age of 13 when my father had recently purchased a new pool table and I was downstairs, frustrated and angry because I didn't know really how to play pool. I thought it would be a easy task though, boy was I wrong, later on I heard Paco upstairs laughing about something and talking to my parents when my dad came downstairs to work Paco came downstairs to see the new pool table. the first thing he saw was a angry version of me and I could tell that he wanted to help me so I asked him how should I hold the pool stick and Paco in his ever loving arms went from behind me and grabbed my hands and started to show me what I should do. In 20 minutes, I was playing pool with my uncle Paco and we were having the time of our lives. Therefore, the point of me telling this story was that no matter what happened to me I knew that Paco could cheer me up. Paco was one of the most loving people I knew because he always cared for others instead of himself. For example he never missed a birthday with me and although he would be flat out broke, he always came up to me with that big smile of his and gave me a present of a shirt or some cool thing. Well the present I got from him this year and every year was his love and it will never fade.

---- Written by Evan Stirts, 16-year-old nephew, February 14, 2010

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PACO'S POEMS (poems written by Paco)

My Lazy Heart

(Lazy = Fragile)

Lazy as a Willow stretching across the yard,

swaying lazily in the wind,

setting forth a cool shade

for us to ponder.

Lazy is the heart for when it is content with love’s attributes

and loved ones all around.

Lazy is my mind when I have no one to love or

too many I should.

A lazy heart is a fragile one,

But a lonely heart is a dry one

like a stone it will leave its mark and like stone

it will crumble in time.

A lazy heart may it be Fragile, it is also

happy and content, it remembers

happy memories and looks forward to new beginnings.

So please be very careful with my Lazy Heart,

for it may be fragile, but it is where my love is stored,

it reminds me of not to live, but how to live,

it is soft and tender so it can accept the love

and the tragedies of life and love will offer.

So pleae be very careful with my Lazy Heart

for it is precious to me and my love and life.

Please carry it with your soul,

Kiss it with your love,

and accept it as yours,

Yours to keep

To love

and to understand

that the heart may offer you life

but its how you live life that matters.

So please accept my heart

for that is all that this poor soul can give

that is more valuable than any riches that can be imagined.

So please use it as if it is yours to keep

and keep it very safe and protect it

from the dark, rigid side of life

that is always available.

Please keep my heart and may it brighten your path

So you can see all obstacles in your way.

May my Wisdom of my heart not confuse you

to choose a happy life and a loving soul, and

may your love grow.

- Paco

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What Inspires Me to Breathe

The fragrance that makes a flower so alluring;

The majestic beauty of the range of snow capped mountains in fall,

The serenity of an open field blooming with life;

The intricate work of bees making honey in their hives,

The infinite joy of children frolicking freely without a care in the world;

The fluttering of butterflies about in the breeze, taking them to different destinations;

The wonderful feeling of lovers beginning the journey of intimacy;

The subtle trickling of a creek leading into a powerful waterfall,

The distant beauty of nature’s abundant creations.

These are the fascinating wonders that touch my heart

that in turn feeds my soul that inspires me to breathe.

It inspires me to breathe the life giving air that helps me live life with spontaneous joy and richful fulfillness that makes my spirit soar with the stars above.

Paco - 6/19/08

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One Day

One day I can see,

One day I am blind.

One day I feel,

One day I am numb.

One day I can love,

One day I hate,

One day I am aware,

One day I am unconscious.

One day I write,

One day I can only scribble.

One day I eat,

One day I starve.

One day I drink,

One day I dehydrate.

One day I awake,

One day I am asleep.

One day I succeed,

One day I fail.

One day I climb,

One day I descend.

One day I may see the balance in all things around me, and

One day I may see my love overcome the peaks and valleys of my life’s struggle

to make my soul whole and my self, happiness.

Paco - 3/7/06

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