Best Nursing Poems
Life Spent - All Alone
When I spend time at the old nursing home
to see a loved one in our family,
it breaks my heart to see those all alone
just sitting, waiting, by the wall to see
if I might be someone they'll know today
who came to visit, spend a little while-
show them they are remembered in some way;
so sad to pass each waiting- as I smile,
pained eyes meet mine, and anguish fills my heart-
they search for love- to feel that they belong.
Day after day, abandoned- not a part
of family or friends for which they long.
They sit and stare with mournful faces raised-
lined up against the wall, alone and dazed.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Choices
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Judged: 06/20/2019
~2nd Place~
Contest: Abandon 2
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
Judged: 07/25/2018
During lunch I announced when I retire I am going to go to jail.
What?
Jail, I repeated. I will rob a bank or something.
The three others laughed.
Think about it, I told them. How much do nursing homes cost?
They started to think about it and discussed how much they
Were already paying for their own mothers
$4,500 a month $8,000 a month, $10,000 a month.
Jail is free right? To the prisoner anyway, not to the rest of us.
I could play cards, make lots of new friends, and maybe write poetry
New story ideas I’ll bet, maybe some really juicy new story ideas!
My family would save thousands of dollars, maybe even tens of thousands
Of dollars.
How would you get in? I would rob a bank, I told them. No one laughed.
They were thinking…..
Then all three burst out laughing.
I could! I insisted, convincing no one, not even myself.
Panagiota and The Autopsy
An autopsy, I found, educational to the max!
Those sacred, holy,human body parts, being
removed part by part.
Weighed on a scale, as if in a large supermart?
Really, truly, after all our human snickering and
politicking?
Is this who we are, simply meat on a cold slab?
And tell me, please, who is going to pay the tab?
Where will my Muse be when I lie naked on a table?
I can't scream "help" as the knife slices me from
neck to navel.
No trophies in this inglorious space and no POTD either.
No, poet friends, not in this inglorious stable.
There is no talk here of skin color nor of crucial racial matters.
For on that table,insides of all humans are of the same color,
Simply at peace,lying in tatters, I shout, all all lives matter!!
It's surprising, I withstood all this, being a young student
nurse and all.
It was September in Evanston, at Saint Francis Hopital
I shall never forget, that colorful, most memorable fall.
I never became a nurse,instead, fell deeply in love, truly,
a far more romantic deal!
We moved to San Francisco, where hills, deep love and
with poetry, my heart forever, he did eternally steal!
And the Pacific Ocean transforming from shades of deep
blues to the most enchanting teals!
July 5, 2023
What good is done in carrying a grudge,
And nursing wrath o'er long?
The past is past, what's done is done.
Stop singing the same of song.
To cogitate on what was done,
Will bring you naught but worry.
It irritates and sours life,
To sit and feed your fury;
So put it down and just move on,
You'll feel much better for it.
Suppress the memory of wrong,
It's best to just ignore it.
Just think about the here and now,
And let the past stay buried.
You'll be surprised how good it feels,
To drop that rock you've carried,
For so long it seemed to be,
A part of daily life.
We were meant to live our lives,
Not endure it dragging strife.
On the way to the nursing home, we pass many beautiful sights. So many homes with pleasant yards, lawns, and flowers that delight. After so many days of rain then a little break, green everywhere abounds.
kudzu wraps up trees
grows rapidly reaches road....
goats needed to dine
Several homeplaces have clear-cut trees so that the area looks completely different. Then the area where the tornado came through and demolished so many acres of trees, damaged homes, and other buildings. It will take years for it to grow back or will it ever?
birds can't find a tree
nesting impossible there....
landscaped homes needed
The anxiety grows as we get nearer to the nursing home. Will the visit be much the same? He no longer has his hearing aids so that adds to his confusion. He mostly can't hear nor understand so the conversation bypasses him totally. She isn't up to date with the times either because she is isolated or she can't remember. The short-term memory is gone. It went the way of yesterday and can't return. They are not allowed to share a room nor are they in the same section of the home.
nurse brings her out first
he comes out, sits next to her....
they kiss, worth while trip
In Nursing School
In nursing school they have us learn all the proper medical words,
Because in Greek and Latin we defecate, but we never make turds,
And what's worse than learning about all these dreadful diseases
Is forgetting my English to replace it with obfuscating medicaleses,
Lest we forget that great chemical known as adenosine triphosphate
Which is the powerhouse of the cells, or did she say an exudate?
And though I've been to India and seen the river Ganges,
I never knew my fingers were really called phalanges,
And we must learn about colitis, encephalitis and diverticulitis,
But I hope these germs don't decide to get up and bite us.
You can't find out a lot about someone by palpating the patella,
Not even if the patient is female, or if he is a fella.
And we must distinguish anemia, diarrhea and gonorrhea
From the almost identical condition known as leukemia.
Sex is one thing, I think, not one of us has time for,
For after school it's off to work until you're blind or
Wishing you had never heard of cellular necrosis,
Not to mention the hundred kinds of psychoses and neuroses.
And then there's that other major hurdle called getting adequate funding,
And if you can't get a loan or a grant they'll have you do the plumbing.
It seems the clinical locations are never really near ya,
In fact most of them are deep inside Siberia,
And if out in the Sun recall that your skin can get tumorous,
For the study of medicine is serous – very, and hardly ever humerus.
Your medical books will have you believe you've every disease known
From autophobia to an ecchymosis to cerumen on the bone.
But at least there are no bullies insisting we are all big wimps,
For studying things like urine, saliva, bile, blood and lymph;
And if there's one more part with the outlandish name of buccinator,
I think I'll lose it all and become a hallucinator.
Hungry for munchies, on his way to the lunchroom,
a rambunctious, persnickety,“fuss-budget”, elderly
jittery, fidgety, geezer, named Cassidy…
whose questionable dexterity, aghast by a massive sneeze,
teeter-tottered precariously.
at the edge of the thingamajig, ...jigging one way, jagging the other!
Minding his own beeswax, without any rigmarole,
topsy-turvy on his feet, he reached for the balustrade,
became quite flabbergasted, and very discombobulated
when the doohickey provided for his ambidextrous aid
jiggled free from its screws, and found him footloose!
It seemed the doo-dad, put there by some nitpicking pipsqueak,
some flat-footed, hooligan, who knew diddly-squat, who obviously,
recklessly, constructed a railing, only worthy for failing!
Such foolhardy shenanigans! Was it some practical joke
to lambaste aged codgers, eliminate lodgers, and boondoggle the old folks?
Cass, was an old rabble-rouser, considered a blabbermouth,
was thrown off his epicenter, while his cane went a'sailing, appendages flailing
Onlookers, were outraged, ....in stage of amazement
but laughs grew contagious, and cock-eyed hilarious!
Those carpetbagger carbuncles of society….can’t stop this old fogy
Cass, brushed off his hinny, would not be blind-sighted..
Barbaric bedevilment, won’t halt his felicity!
Some even predicted, with his acid tongue lashings, and his eccentric behavior,
he would stir up entanglement, kibosh the haranguers
and strangle the caboodles, who hooted and hollered!
His face turned beet red, but no meltdown,......instead
He held his chin high
to the dining room, ahead....he ordered French bread
Ordered some bouillabaisse, toasted with balderdash and a shot of rye
He dined with the multitudes, ordered some strudel, and one snicker-doodle
Then he told folks a riddle, "There was a man with a cane, who slipped on a noodle, a handrail came loose, he injured his caboose….and cooked his goose!"
.....................................................
Nursing Care
Written: by Tom Wright
Jan. 9, 1998
Beneath this metal awning,
now old and bent we sit.
Some just gaze while others talk,
some whittle, chew and spit.
At times we speak of all the things,
in life that have gone wrong.
We live in a world in which we're convinced,
some think we don't belong.
Technology is here and It's for sure,
that it has passed us by.
Though we cannot grasp most things,
if given a chance we try.
Each day It's getting harder,
just to get up and around.
For some are now bedridden,
still others are wheelchair bound.
Today there's not much left to show,
of our once productive lives.
God, in his great wisdom,
has called some husbands and wives.
As now our memories start to fade,
with what's left of our health.
It seems the cost of nursing care,
has swallowed up our wealth.
Our children's lives are oh so rushed,
for us they've little time.
They seldom come to visit,
or send us one thin dime.
The way some people treat us here,
through neglect, should be a crime.
It's here, someday, that all wind up,
if God, allows the time.
So we keep doing what we do,
until the time we'll need no care.
Patiently waiting for God to call,
so we can meet Him in the air.
As he sits in the chair, towards the floor is his gaze,
fleeting memories wash over him but his mind is a haze.
The nurse flashes by and gives him a smile,
He longs for someone to sit and talk for a while.
The children will visit, he hopes they come soon.
when they walk through the door his face lights up the room.
Are they coming today or is it next week?
Struggles to recall all their names and he begins to weep.
Cannot remember her name by she was his wife.
A wonderful woman, the love of his life.
In a moment of lucidness, remembers the day that she died.
Emotions well up and tears brim in his eyes.
A drink of some tea he would like to have now.
The nurse is too busy and he doesn't know how.
Breakfast at eight, lunch right on noon.
Dinner at five, No! that's not too soon.
The room down the hall, inhabited by Bill.
The noises he makes would make you feel ill.
He hacks through the day, screams out in the night.
Waking all within reach with a terrible fright.
His daughter comes to visit, the kids are causing her grief.
Life is so hectic, Dad we will have to be brief.
Grand kids gather around and he gives them a cuddle,
she gathers them up and off they go as a huddle.
This man gave his life for the family he made,
just a little while longer, he wished that they stayed.
An hour is not too much to ask of your time,
to tell happy stories and tell him everything's fine.
I thought I'd seen it all before
What else could life now have in store
She called the game at half past three
The patients stared
Some stared at me
Cards were laid out nice and neat
All waited for the late day treat
The caller let the numbers flow
Her pace, of course, was very slow
Finally a hand went up
A quarter in the winner's cup
Silent but Deadly (Written 2014)
In the heart of the nursing home where old folks stay,
Lived Erasmus, a man twinkling in twilight's array.
With a glimmer that danced in his mischievous eyes,
He concocted a plan to bring great surprise.
Not a prankster by trade, but a jester at heart,
He perfected an art that set him apart.
With a silent approach, undetected, unseen,
He'd let loose a cloud, where he once had been.
The residents gathered, unknowing, at ease,
Till the air filled with a curious breeze.
A stench so strong, it could wilt a rose,
They clutched at their noses and squinted their toes.
"Who could it be?" they wondered, looking around,
Silent but Deadly Erasmus made not a sound.
Except for a giggle, suppressed and discreet,
Erasmus, now hiding, pretending to be sweet.
The ladies, most prim, with their hankies out,
Fluttered and fussed an occasional shout,
"It's Erasmus again!" with a laugh and a tease,
Pointing at him, the one cutting the cheese.
Though the air was quite foul, the laughter was sweet,
As they chased down the halls on their slippered feet.
For in every life, a little fun must be had,
Even if it's a bit smelly, a bit bold, a tad mad.
So remember dear Erasmus, with his silent decree,
Who taught us to laugh, letting spirits run free.
For in the end, it's the joy that we spread,
That lights up our days, 'til we're finally in bed.
And so, in this home where the old folks stay,
The legend of Erasmus lingers to this day.
A reminder to all, that life's for the living,
With each silent gift that keeps on giving.
Hey man, let's stop by the drive through nursing home.
'Okay.'
I pulled up to the menu
'Uh, I'll have a septuagenarian widower whose hobbies include
pottery (specializing in lawn ornaments) and taxidermy.'
You want anything?
'Nah.'
Alright.
I drove around and handed the register
jockey twelve bucks.
He just stared at me.
Stared into me
and through me
Simultaneously.
At that moment,
I realized that I did
not know where I was
or why I was there
or who was in my car.
I did know
that the kid on the register
was not some kid on the register,
but a subterranean genie who
had trapped me
in his spindly game.
His fingers splintered into
flowing walls of fishscales.
His nose pulsated into a
badge of strobing
iron-grey light.
His eyes continued to stare,
even as he shimmered and
flickered.
A cold gate opened
between me and the
window.
His tongue extended
through the gate
and down my throat.
'Bite down. It's time to take your medicine.'
I gulped.
.
Boulder shoulders, bursting biceps,
terrifying to see.
A menacing mountain of a man,
well, he used to be.
He would brutally barrel through each
frightened, fleeing foe.
Many feared him so, although that
was long, long ago.
Now, from beneath the bony, bushy
brows of his frayed face,
He casts a ghostly gaze at his veins,
I.V. needles in place.
His shrunken, skeletal frame sinks
stolid in the stretcher.
His skin, the tinge and touch of the
back of a peeled wallpaper.
Here he must wait and wilt away
the weeks till the end arrives.
Behind this nursing home's closed doors
hide closing and closed lives!
Used upshot ~ no just quiet ring
as Grandma sits upon her swing
content, but how, you want to sing
can quiet rest so willingly!
Her eyes seem set ~ yet seeing more
it must be from some elsewhere store
no name for it ~ I've never seen
this humming silence ~ all upbring!
A few things in her blighted way
just keep it simple ~ she might stray
to find herself another day
just Grama's room ~ no others play!
"Semper Fidelis" is our goal,
while Grama's just another soul
I must keep courage, country's role
the young, my strength, my certained skoal!
My house, my car, my holding's grow
my kids, my yard, my food enow ~
my fun in living for the show,
my lust's inebriating's toll!
Bring Grama home ~ she's all you've left
the years between, her roads still cleft
when she did hone your seed in debt ~
Bring Grama home . . . her grace is kept!
Do stop your moaning, for Heaven's Sake!
You're not the first to bellyache!
You can scowl, growl, or howl
Or throw in the towel
But no one can go to your Wake!