Heal Thyself O Patient - II

Proffered no reprieve, led was I like cow By clinic’s nurse to slaughterhouse, I thought, The wise me cursing the rebel me now, All mute, betwixt devil-pain-and-doc caught. Take thermal waves— weighty words waft from her, And every day— we can’t let it get worse— She, pontiff like, her wisdom did aver, I learn to live with pain, whilst me to curse. Oh for a thankless lingering long time, Yet, pain nor problem wanes both wind their way, Docs have reasons that to them only rhyme: I need take a good look at your x ray, I feel as if caught in a lifetime’s crime— Caught red-handed with a bleeding knife, say. Yea, caught red-handed, knife still bleeding red, No sign of malignant growth, he declared As he scanned my x ray, felt elated To hint that he favoured me, for, he glared At me to pose: how kind heart he’s within, Then, his eyes enlarging more than somewhat, Said, see that growth on left hidden therein, I sure have reasons to doubt it than naught. But doc, I see naught else but fore-arm bone, Humerus bone as you call, but I view It as rather funny, fun too far gone, But felt, silence is patients’ sole virtue, On wrong side of stick— hurting bone my own, Wordless I weighed for his weighty clue. _______________________________________ Crown of sonnets | 03.11.2012, revised July 2023| Poet’s note: Here are sonnets III and IV of a sequel of ten sonnets constituting one single poem called a crown of sonnets. The last line of the preceding sonnet is repeated as the first line of the next sonnet, but not verbatim; nor is the first line of the first sonnet is repeated as the last line of the tenth as is. The sestets are either a quartet and a couplet or two sets of three-lined Terza Rima. Hurt is the place from where light enters, and it did, I realized after my long-drawn medical treatment.