Best Sick Person Poems
I used to live life full of dreams
Planning, for many years to come.
Where I will be, when I will go,
A future that was filled with fun.
Till the day my life was shattered.
Till the day when the hammer struck.
All my dreams now torn asunder
Nowhere to hide, nowhere to duck.
I stood my battles, fought the fight
We gathered and said our goodbyes,
Yet through all of your brave faces,
I could still hear the silent cries.
Last Will and Testament written,
Everything important was said,
“I love you,” still that magic word,
I’d sleep in peace tucked in my bed.
Then something magical happened,
I came back from places of dread.
Now more a part of the living,
Each day I get stronger instead.
Now I know what’s most important
Enjoy precious moments each day,
Learned not to live for tomorrows
That just might not come anyway.
I enjoy each sip of coffee,
Watching leaves turn colours and fly,
Kisses from my sweet little dog,
Every time I see a blue sky.
The music of my Children’s voices,
Love of family never ends,
Carpe Diem, just seize the day,
That is my new motto my friends.
Written 10.25.2014
For Regina Riddle’s Contest
Seize the Moment (Carpe Diem)
5th
James 5:15
And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up.
Living for the moment makes everything more special.
THE NIGHTINGALE LOST HER LAMP
Anita’s eyes were brown.
She was the kindest of angels.
Her speech firm with authority
but reassuring with a glass- like
sensitivity; she seemed to know all.
Prompt as a rooster's first crow,
that's how she is.
She stands like a lioness
ever ready to act, a channel
to prolong the patient's life.
Her heart is a captive cog
of dedicated compassion:
as a wife, as a mother, as a Dean,
Professor, and as a nurse.
She stood always regal in white.
Bearing a sanction of life and death
with each shot made by her gentle hands.
She had Tiger eyes for signs and symptoms;
sponges to absorb order and pressures,
she was simply a lamp for a sick person.
Our batch, she handles with iron fist.
Labeled as "black sheep" – for some of us
are noisy cans but empty inside.
Black sheep but later turned into
the cream of the crop. She stood as
our Samson pillars then despite canyons of
doubts and critiques, our batch defies the odds.
Yet, one day a snapshot happened –
She fainted while teaching.
She was brought to the hospital,
scrutinized and observed like
the frog in my sophomore year.
I was one of the nurses who rendered care.
I watched, how the shining light in her eyes
turned to stormy sadness. I have heard
how her sturdy voice now sounded
a tattered tape only syllables and groans,
no more. Her before supple glowing skin
turned a wrinkled ash — all tautness gone.
Finally, she needs only bags of blood
in two days her life passed my Anita...
_______________________________________________________
Sponsor Thomas Martin
Contest Name Show but Don't Tell
Placed 3rd...
O.E. Guillermo
5:15 pm, May 19, 2015
How many times have I been,
or perceived to have been,
the victim of cruelty or injustice,
which I tolerated,
as I felt it was necessary to survive
or, if not to survive,
to maintain a minimum standard of living -
as a child,
as a sick person,
as a subordinate in a corporation?
How did it make me feel?
Angry.
How did it work out when I expressed my anger?
Poorly.
Hence, much of my life was lived
through a clenched jaw.
Which doesn't seem pleasant.
Is there another way?
Philosophy?
Religion?
Forgiveness?
Acceptance?
Reassessing when I must compromise?
Learning a new way to communicate -
civil, yet uncompromising?
I wonder.
Dare to care for those who are hungry and have nothing to eat
Dare to care for the people who are homeless and living on the street
Dare to care for that sick person who won't get well
Dare to care about the youths who have made their home inside a cell
Dare to care about the battered wife who feels he loves me when he hits me,
she never knew what it was like to have real love, the only love she knows
is through the pain of a glove.
Dare to care for the baby who was born with aids, you see the mother fell for every
guy she met at a glance and now because of her negligence this innocent baby
hasn't been given a chance. Dare to simply tell a stranger to have a good day,
something so simple might be whats needed to chase their blues away.
Little things mean a lot, you don't have to have millions to make someone's day,
A smile or a kind word or deed just might be all it takes to pave the way.
Dare to care.
Child reads the stories
Of great explorers
He dreams of deep jungles
And wonderful animals
But he does not realize
How dreadful the place is
Until he crosses one of the seas
And among foreigners he is
Some hate him because of his accent
Others because his pale skin
Not just white but pale
Like a sick person according to them
This is somewhere else not Africa
But Africa for pale faced boy is even worse
Animals fight between each other to
But at least they only fight to survive
Yet they will all eventually vanish
Such is a peril of life
That which once was beautiful story of Dark Continent
Now is understood as inhospitable living dying hell
But beware of a curse
And anger of man with face like death
Only he the fate can decide
Beware of wizard turning into warlock
The song goes I bless the rains in Africa
Beware this turning opposite of that
The pale faced boy is now a man
And only he can save Africa if it does not destroy him first
I wait for you
Like the night sky waiting for the kiss of dawn
Like the parched earth waiting for refreshing rain
Like the hungry child waiting for a morsel of bread
I wait for you….
Alone
Parched
Famished
I wait for you…
I wait for you
Like a writer waiting for the touch of inspiration
Like a sick person waiting for healing
Like a bird waiting to catch the breeze to soar
I wait for you….
Needy
Bruised
Weak
I wait for you...
Like a refugee waiting for a place called home
Like a mourner waiting for comfort
Like winter waiting to make love to spring
Like death waiting for resurrection
I wait for you….
Poor
Dejected
Shriveled
Lifeless
I wait for you...
And in the waiting….
I find my comfort, joy, and life
For you have promised
It won’t be long
Till you are here
Ending the wait
With your love
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Banned man
So, it finally happened, of course, Trump gets the blame
but I think this, not the whole story.
For years the workers have seen their wage packet shrinking
and their rights being ignored, no health insurance
nor trade union to look after their interest
As the common man gets poorer, the wealthy get richer
they live with the fear of needing surgery or losing the job.
The two ills go together if a sick person stay away from work
too long he gets fired anyway.
The people revolted Trump fanned the flame that already
was lit.
And it gets worse the big tech firms have banned the president
of the united states and that is an outrage that belongs
to a dictatorship, it has a sinister implication that doesn’t bode well
for us civilian when only what suits the big tech get a hearing
this includes anyone of us at any time.
Obscure old country house falling apart,
Old empty windows with glass shattered,
Decaying roof surrounding old brick chimney.
Group of old apple trees and old well outside.
Beautiful sunset lights up the house,
Entering through the windows inside,
Light falls down on the wooden chair,
It stands right where an old man left it.
He died sitting by a table,
A half empty glass of spirits in his hands.
An old lonely man, neighbour found him two days later.
Picture of the women was hanging on the ceiling,
Right above his head, face with a tired smile,
Deep brown eyes and simple haircut,
She left this house five years earlier,
Left this house in a simple wooden coffin.
She left an old sick person behind,
Person who couldn’t bear to be left alone
He fell prey to the glass,
Alone, no friends no relatives.
He found his peace in the crystal glass of vodka.
Everyday hoping to dye, but only ending up drunk.
Until one day it came, it came in his sleep,
In a drunken dream, a dream of the old apple trees,
Old well and beautiful girl smiling to him.
And then he left, left this house behind,
Buried by people he didn’t knew,
But he was happy,
he stood among the apple trees
Right next to a beautiful girl,
holding hands, feeling loved.
PROPHET SISE expect the best
To prophet sise is to create the deed
The mental picture borne
Believers then nurture the weed
Mentally give it form
Be careful what you think is done
Expected happenings, for some
Fear makes a stronger thought form, one.
Cos what we fear can come.
Premonition can be the tinkers curse
Expected accident or death
Believers see prediction worse
A taking their last breath……Don Johnson
Healers use thought forms to see the sick person in their mind.
On their internal blackboard see the bulging aorta and see it shrink
We create with our thoughts, some see the Lords face and ask for healing too.
That it works is the magic of the universe …when it works for just you…
I think of a lonely dark tunnel
I feel like my first time on a horse gripping its pommel
I see people in situations that can do nothing but worry
I hear complaints that make me want to cry
I touch the hands of a sick person and can only sigh
I think, I feel, I see, I hear, I smell, I touch
But what do I do about it?
Whenever they can, your troubles persist
Your mind becomes stressed.
And your life's reduced to plot twists
Designed to make you depressed.
Life isn't fair
But Goddamnit!
Don't let despair
Force you to submit!
It's dark and evil and cold
And many more sinister adjectives
You can unfold
But why should we be so negative?
Life will spit in your face
It will kick you around
Make you live in disgrace
And beat you to the ground
But it is the mark
Of a very sick person
To accept these remarks
From depression
And fill their heart
With chagrin
So please impart
That depression is a sin
Even with no reason to live it
Life is worth the unexpectedness
And to hell with hell and heaven
What will you lose from enjoying it?
If you think for one moment
That you don't deserve to live,
Then at that exact moment
You would have gained
Immortality
(12/15/12)
As the nation weeps today for the twenty
Angels which were taken away
We also weep for their families and friends
For this pain will never end.
Sitting in their classrooms with thoughts
And hopes and dreams of the holidays
In came a sick person to wipe their dreams away.
We will never know what went thru his mind that day
To take away innocent lives in such a brutal way.
It is true that god has given us free will
But why go to a school and these children he kills.
Let us not forget the adults also who gave
Their lives trying to protect the children
On this day -For them also we do pray.
Tears fill my eyes and pains fill my heart
And their names , ages, or genders
We may not know or remember
But to them our hearts and love
We do surrender.
So fly my little cherubs, and take the angels hands
For you are going to gods promised land
Where there is no suffering, wars or pain
And gods love is the what remains.
(12/14/12)
Who knows what toMight bring
If the next great leader
Will be born
Whether they grow from that greatness
Or take society's judgmental sting
Or if a minority president
Wiil be given a chance
Or if every wheelchair bound person
Will be touched by God's hand
Or if we'll raise enough
To cure every sick person under the sun
Or will rationality and statistics
Come into play
And ruin every sick child's hope
Of ever having any fun
Let me put in to you
Sorta kick my meaning up a notch
I, for one, don't want sit back and watch!
Ursula Tillery
We’ll never understand what makes
A random gunman tick.
To shoot a stranger does imply
That person must be sick.
Yet even if that is the case,
There should be in the brain
A message getting through demanding
That he should refrain.
A bunch of people shopping
Or a rider on the Q
Or a class of 4th-grade students –
Not a one of them who knew…
That his life would soon be over;
There’d be no more stress or fun,
All because of one sick person
Who had access to a gun.
I run through the white
Winter snow
Running from you
You want me to do horrible things
With you
Trudging through snow
Very hard thing to do
You shout out my name
I keep going
A shot is fired
I scream
It hadn't hit me
You call my name
Telling me to come back
I don't listen
To you
If I come back
You'll hit me
You'll make my life even worst
Than before
Another shot is fired
It hits my hand
I scream in pain
I almost fall
But keep going
I know
I will not get away
Never have
Never will
You put drugs in my food
Make me almost paralyzed
Unable to fight you off
I can't feel a thing
Except your heavy weight on me
I try to scream
Your mouth covers mine
I hate you for that
Not letting me speak
On my own
I hear a noise
It's your belt
Coming undone
You take your shirt off
Unbutton mine
You start kissing my chest
My face is covered in tears
I want you off of me
Then you get off
I look at you
You're staring at me
Taking your jeans off
You grab my legs
I try to keep them shut
You just open them again
You rub yourself
Against me
I try to scream again
You put your hand over my mouth
And start to laugh
Telling me to be quiet
You unbutton my jeans
Unzip my zipper
And slide them down my legs
Im completly naked
So are you
I close my legs one more time
You yank them open
Telling me Im being difficult
You lay down on me
And bite my lips
You go down
Lower lower
You bite my neck
You bite my breasts
You are a sick person
You look down
And make it go in
In and out
In and out
I start to sob
You start to laugh
I hate you
I hate you so much
You scream out my name
My hand hurts so much
Im losing blood
Too much
You shoot one last time
It hits my side
I scream and fall
I lay their
Wanting to get this over with
I put my hand to my side
Pull it back
I see blood
I hear crunching snow
You're coming closer
You roll me over
I stare into your eyes
They are black
Lifeless eyes
You start to yell at me
You hit me
Many many times
Snow starts to fall
Down on my face
Everything is getting darker
Its almost pitch black
One last strike
I died
You keep hitting me
Even though you know
Im dead
You step back to look
At my body
You see the scars and marks
You created
Then you see
My blood
Going around my body
That white snow
I fell in
Is now
Nothing but
A red puddle
Of slush