Best Convalescence Poems

This abysmal agony finally ebbing away from my mind
A grotesque phantasmagoria of spirits in the wind
The duel with death has eventually culminated
The disease that almost...

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Today was a good day

Today he walked on legs unbent
And erect spine of a man intent

On stilling the cacaphony of monotony
And smoothing the callouses of...

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For I am departing tomorrow and the sun shall gleam, 
the eventide shall ascend and the moon shall beam.
Forget me not when I wither away,...

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I was a classic 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air, in mint condition, admiral and white.
My owner had other beautiful, classic cars, like stars sparkling into twilight.

My owner...

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Jack and Jill were brother and sister, whose environs were hilly and green;
And they groomed horses and worked in gardens, oft 'til a moonlight scene.

They...

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Darkness beckons me with each new day
Remembrance of my desolation seems to persistently stay
Cataclysmic past still haunts my troubled mind
Convalescence becoming unwavering, Consummation I find
Anguish...

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When stuck at home for convalescence 
For prose or poem choose acquiescence
Scribble a thought about what is what
Soon you’ll be caught, and boredom forgot...

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I aspire for a flight of magnificence 
though the words at times reek of innocence.
Yet striving to create a renaissance 
in form which will not...

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The convalescence occasionally is crushing
When left and right kin struggles
Not just any people, but those dear to you, 
You want to reach out
And pull them...

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Break into my life
Lock the cracked door
Slip off your shoes
Your creaking clothes
Sneak into my bed
Uncover my soul
Sweeten the sunrise
Caffeinated yet cold
Caress my regret
Callous naked me
Hold...

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I am Twelve -  My cynical composure  is of my second nature - A constant, compatible
companion.
I am the Winter Solstice - Darkness is...

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Convalescence empathy
removes the grit of wear
my thoughts are now encompassing
before ~ were just aware!

Oh, bide my time in effigy
thee once were all I shared,
now look...

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It's late or early, I can't tell which one
We're not on some secret island with a picturesque sun
The palm tree buildings; strolling holding your arm...

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Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A woodland walk, a quest for river-grapes, a mocking thrush, a wild rose or rock-living columbine, salve my worst wounds.”

SUFFERING SEASON

broken…
the sediment...

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lub dub, lub dub  echoes of the heart
just one sound that will tear it apart
its reins will tighten and choke the air sacks
fuselage lines...

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