Best Surgeries Poems
He’s 85 and he says he isn’t going to die.
Stooped over very badly, maybe two feet shorter now
than he used to be in his prime
and walking very slowly with his cane,
he insists on opening his own doors,
saying this while breathing heavily.
He refuses elderly care and drives a car.
He tells us he is never going to die.
Two surgeries since Christmas (nearly dying on the table);
two visits to ER this week alone;
with blood pressure so low it’s fightening,
oxygen the lowest of the low,
a pancreas with blockage, unhealthy lungs
and a heart that seems to scorn
the pacemaker recently therein inserted,
he tells us he isn’t going to die.
He says he wants to get around
to working on his beloved stained glass projects,
but they stay in his garage,
for he’s sleeping more and more.
He says he wants to write his autobiography, for
his life was fascinating; he invented things,
started up a business and had his dream house built.
Always he said he would not die.
Tonight he’s in ER having a cat scan.
He fell against his bathtub very dizzy, then threw up
and finally decided to call the paramedics.
Doctors can’t seem to help him further.
All that they can do for him they’ve done already.
He told us lately he’s been having dreams
about the wife he lost a year ago.
I bet he’ll say tomorrow that he’s never going to die.
(Written March 3, 2019 about a man well known by my husband and me. This year he is 86 years old and working on his stained glass projects)!
How many emotional tears have we so cried, us the unperfected,
The Barbie generational rejected, or Ken doll unrealistic Idol worship.
Cursed by society’s vision of ultimate beauty, wake up world
For are we all not human, and subject to fragilities faults of reality.
Oh to remove the textured veils of the masked disguised,
To reveal the inner face of grace hidden within the soul itself.
For true beauty lies inside the heart of innocence,
Or underneath the timeless wrinkles of ages experience,
One must just remove the blinders of ignorance, to see it
In clarities truth sight line of view.
Where are these mythical people of perfections achievement?
From where do they dwell, or come from these visions of
Illusionary beings, which we so strive to be like?
Nay do suffer the youth of the future to measure up,
To an irrational delusion, a mirages camouflage of lies
Deceit.
Dreaming child of occult fiction, this is deadly ground
From which you tread upon, for reality vision is obscured
By plastic surgeries faults hoods of realism.
Vintage are the mirrors in this fun house of lies,
Let us cover these soul suffocating devices,
Or shatter the glass of reflected illusions.
Then shall we embrace our differences, allowing the next
Generation to breathe a long sigh, of relief at last.
To accept and express their own individuality without
Social oppression, or misconceptions of beauty,
Then enriching the world with glorious infusions
Of unguarded inspirational promise.
What a wondrous planet of enlightment this would
Be if utopia really could exist, unfettered by mankind’s
Unclouded mind of perfection.
Forever after all is short time in the eyes of humanity,
Let us hold our children high and nurturing them with love
And respect, no matter what, not judging them by their
Beauty marks of imperfections,
Instead allowing them to shine in the glow of inspiration
Eternal.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Thank You for the Music
Companions on my journey
Surround me in anthems -
When the dawn rises up,
In afternoons of reflection,
In slumber’s reveries -
Melodies
Always embracing me
Asking only breath
In canticles and choruses –
Paeans and in psalms –
Rhythms and in rhymes -
Written on the staff of life
Remembering remorse
In slowly marching meter
Uplifting shame
In the verses of vocal symphonies
Healing regret
In ballads of blues
Shouting celebration
In cadence of joyful jubilees;
A wondrous gift – a blessing evolving -
A marvelous thing –no toy -
That gathers together
Wandering questions
Shouted into Heaven’s ears
When the spinning world would
Crawl all over itself
Losing its pitch
Or bounce off walls
In atonal discord;
Welcoming back hearts
To beat as one in time;
My theme song never stilled
When vocal nodes
Stilled my song to a whisper;
Gratitude, my refrain,
For music,
Life giving as caressing rains,
To chant, once more, in harmony
With the vital flame of melody again.
In gratitude to Abba for their song - Thank You for the Music – My theme song that carried me through two vocal node surgeries when I thought I might never sing again.
I have survived trauma, Cancer, Lyme disease, Head Traumas,
Many surgeries, bowel obstruction and infection
For those with health issues, life can really hit rock bottom
Pain can be unbearable and also be ongoing
Near death experiences are as scary as can be
But, I tell you this because you can heal and you can survive
You can find ways to get through the pain
You can adapt however possible to still do what you love to do
Never give up what you believe in, no matter what
You can still create to get through things
You can still write, as much as you can
It is never easy, but it is in fact possible
To keep dreaming, to keep trying, to keep fighting
To be all you can be with whatever you are faced
You may feel stuck, but just not there yet and I testify
---- You CAN do it ---
Heidi Sands
5/7/18
They don’t believe the Earth is dying
Slowly, painfully, day by day
They think that money can fix the problems
For the few they admit, they sit and pray
They think money can fix the problems
Surgeries to make you thin
Pills to make you eat less
Cars to fit into the world’s newfound laziness
Politicians thinking they can just quit
Who are avoiding the whole issue
They say that they want to fix it
All want us to think they ‘think green’
Laziness is the new epidemic
Vaccines the new health food
When veggies cost more than cupcakes
You know this world is doomed
We’re stuck in a downward spiral
Laziness, asthmatics, childhood obesity…
What more do I need to say?
We brought this on ourselves, yet they don’t see
Factories on every corner
Driving to the corner and back
Gas guzzlers, smoke stacks, oil fires
They wonder why the sky is turning black
Las Vegas is the new Phoenix
And Michigan the Alaska
Hurricanes in January
Tornadoes in November
They turn a blind eye
Though we all know they see it
Money has all the answers
Let’s see the new cars in ’08
Give it ten years if that
Then maybe they’ll realize
The sorrowful mistakes they’ve made
They’ll be forced to open their eyes
We’re all doomed, you know?
It’s only a matter of time
Whether we freeze or we boil
Is a choice we all have to make
Stop the disaster now
If not that then slow
If we don’t do something today
Well, I think this you all know.
Inspired by Opeth – The Drapery Falls and this entire year…
I sip on Super Mario Brothers hot cocoa cup
Filled with convictions’ drop
From streams of consciousness
Ready to skinny dip into a new plateau
No
Holds
Barred
Ferocity’s grip
Looking upon God’s yesterdays
As He hands me a pen
Asking me what I have learned
…
As days have passed
I slow dance with convex mirrors within glasshouse.
Remedies to my confusion
Thrusting me back to the day
A befriending of cotton candy souls
As we ride against Ferris Wheels with a song
That should never end
Holding hands through rickety roller coasters
Pulling me downwards
Upwards
Parallel to perpendicular resolutions
The square root to pale ghosts
Staring with onyx want
All of their tainted wishes
Were for brighter days
…
As these days pass
I recollect collective smile upon my spiraled breaths.
There should have been more.
There could have been more.
It’s not too late for early newcomers into my atrium.
But, you better have your ticket in hand.
For I have already tasted the scalding broth of disappointing screams
Overpowered in salted dramatics
Please
Just come as you are
Unfiltered
No plastic surgeries are welcome within these heartbeats.
…
As days go by
I continue to dream of tomorrow’s smile
Placing loudspeakers against silenced seclusions
With ONE MIC
I hail to cathedral sanity
Swimming within my stream of consciousness that few can dive into
Without turning their backs
…
As tomorrow approaches
Who will be the spark in our cherry bombs?
To light jeweled, nocturnal ionospheres within breaths of security
And sincerity coated fingertips
Who I ask?
Speak loud!!!
Speak in unbridled frequencies!!!
Don’t wait for another day to go by…
...without me waking up to your sound again.
©Drake J. Eszes
A few years ago I got sick. Real sick. Hospital sick. Near death sick. But I
survived or I would not be writing this. I had several surgeries but this story is
not about that. It is about the drug Fentanyl, a powerful pain killer, ten times
stronger than Morphine. Yes, that is what they were giving me to control the
pain. I was in the hospital six months, so you can imagine the addiction I had
to this drug. The doctors were smart though, because about four weeks before
I was to come home, they started the take me off Fentanyl. It was to be done
very slowly, but still I had a terrible reaction. My body had got used to it and it
liked it. I would thrash around the bed like a lunatic. They were only giving
me small doses of it and also giving me Tylenol. (TYLENOL, I would say, that is
USELESS!) The doctors kept telling me, " you do not need it anymore." (YEAH,
that's what YOU think. I NEED it!) Well, after the four weeks, I came down to
earth. I was free again to be me. It was then, that I realized how easy it is
to become addicted to a prescription drug.
oh it was dreamy
lost in a haze of nothing-
crashing down screaming
Now years later, I am hearing on the news that people are dying from taking
Fentanyl. This drug has hit the street and is killing people. They love the high,
and take more than the dose any doctor would perscribe. It is a killer and must
be treated with respect. To take it for a high, is a death wish.
a sad funeral
the teen was so beloved-
it was just one time
_________________________
May 30, 2016
Poetry/Haibun/Senryu/Prescription Drug Addiction
Copyright Protected, ID 16-796-202-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, The colorful Drug
sponsor, Lewis Raynes
Second Place
Barley a man when he went off to war
not really sure what he was fighting for
To serve his country he knew for sure,
unaware of the suffering he would later endure
He worked hard to put on a brave face,
but he couldn't imagine a more horrible place
So often afraid of losing his life,
he would cling to the thought of his son and his wife
When he came home it was an answered prayer,
it was due to the illness he'd received over there
Whatever the reason he was finally home
He had a six week old son of his very own
He tried to work and live a normal life
He later married his second wife
They had two kids, that made him three
From this sickness he couldn't get free
He was completely disabled, he couldn't work
His pain was getting worse and worse
He'd had many surgeries and there were more to come
It attacked his liver, colon and lungs
He never spoke of the horror he'd seen
His brain must have felt so unclean
He never bragged about the Purple Heart
The illness was tearing his body apart
He wasn't perfect, that much is true
but imagine all that he went through
He died when he was only fifty seven
I hope God saved a place for him in Heaven
I feel it to a small extent - a little tinge of it -
those times I hear about
friends going on vacations to fun exotic places;
friends of mine receiving special presents from their husbands;
women I have known for ages getting plastic surgeries,
losing weight, and looking now like models;
Anyone who does not feel a tinge of jealousy
toward those who are receiving the very thing
one is longing for in one’s own life
I think would not be human!
But most of us can rise above the tinge of jealousy.
All of us are gifted in one way or another.
We need to have security in who we are,
and gratefulness for all the gifts uniquely ours!
Most likely, those whose good fortune we might covet
are looking back at someone else with a tinge of jealousy.
Nobody has everything they want!
We cannot know the many facets of a person’s soul -
their hidden insecurities, their dreams left unfulfilled.
Maybe there exist a few on a higher plane
with not a jot of jealousy inhabiting their heart.
Until we reach that higher plane,
We need to be as happy as we can be.
Congratulate successes of your peers.
Swallow any little bitterness and know. . .
with hard work, you can achieve successes in your life.
Imagine your dream and go for it!
That thing which is of the uttermost importance
will be the thing for which you ought to strive.
What drives you? What brings you the most joy?
Once you’ve answered those few questions,
take stock of your own life.
Are you doing all you can, despite even facing
possible hardships in your current situation?
Don’t sit back and daydream.
Force a smile if you have to.
Be happy for life’s winners.
Envision a dream that is attainable for you;
work for it, being grateful all the while
for the talents you already have.
Those with low esteem or prone to idleness and greed
will not want to do the needful things.
They will feel the tinge of jealousy; then let it fester.
Growing and growing, it will manifest itself
in acts of hideous deceit, or worse,
jealousy can lead to murder and revenge.
It happens all the time,
for it’s the root of nearly every crime!
Breathe. . . and let out jealousy.
Feeling jealous means that you are human,
but never go beyond the tinge of it!
Winning millions, Fred acted insane,
Raced his new Benz and crashed in the rain.
All that money he won
Went for surgeries done
To repair both his body and brain!
For Susan Burch's
Lottery Ticket Limerick Poetry Contest
As seeing dark people praying to Jehovah to bless
other races daily , love jumps , jumping happily ,
angels of God screaming " profound Love."
Quote by poet.
Dark and lovely in the eyes of some folks
and not others on earth
because of different choices.
If dark person fails to value himself
"herself"due to rumours
of some people and think
to bleach his " her" skin
to look very cheaper,
it is a personal choice
and no one can be blamed
when there are more consequences.
By bleaching the skin to look as some folks,
it is very risky,
risk to get cancer and other terrible diseases.
There were some dark musicians and actors
who wanted to look like other races
and transformed themselves
through plastic surgeries
and ended up dying by cancer.
Some dark people must always be happy
for who they are and forget validations
of other races.
No matter how bullied
in some part of the world,
remember that natural dark skin
is also lovely
and very beauty.
The Complicated World
The world has become so complicated
People never talk to people
Electronics do the talking for us
Our phones take away private time
We are never truly alone
Cars tell us where to go
And what we should see on the way
Newspapers aren’t made of paper
Delivered through the air to our screens
The same with books
Turning the page just isn’t cool anymore
200+ channels to make everyone a star
Even if you do not have talent to will be an idol
Concerts and sports are televised
So you don’t have to leave the house
God forbid you gather together with other people
The kids are called to dinner by email
Bullying doesn’t take place on the schoolyard
Even surgeries are done by doctors a thousand miles away
Everything is done without seeing the other person
When will the day come when things will get worse
People will completely forget how to talk to each other
It will be hard to remember what another human being looks like
Babies will be conceived through a website
And even a child’s rattle with be computerized
Whatever happened to the good old days
When people got to meet other people
Eat together or share a beer together
Even fight together
Without something telling them what to do
Or talking for them
This world is confusing
I pray for a return to the good old days
When a calculator was the only computer I owned
And I looked people in the eyes and said hello
Physician’s convictions to poison their patients,
Procedures with Ether, cold X-Ray stations
A thousand scans in milligrams,
Lobotomies and Amputations…
Surgeries to transform me,
Imperfections to augment
Blood Transfusions, concussions, contusions-
For just a small improvement!
* "You have to have faith,
On the wings of an angel,"
To emotionally cope with a disability
And find other sources of creativity.
Poetry Soup has genuinely inspired me
With many intangible feelings, I can't not explain.
Brightening my days with positive attitudes
When critiquing my not well written poetry.
Poems always missing the rhythmic hold,
The da DUMs to tell the tale and let it unfold.
I've learned so much from all you poetic folks-
Genuine kindness, friendship and much more.
I'm leaving for a few months, I'll miss all of you so.
September third my last of three surgeries I must undergo,
But I'll be back in three to four months,
Unfolding tales and trying to tap out all those darn da DUMs.
Thank you for making me feel like a poetess, that I'm not.
I send all of you a many, many hugs and warm smiles too.
Connie Gildersleeve
August 29, 2013
* "You Have to Have Faith On the Wings of an Angel" was taken from Colleen Bono's "Hidden Thoughts 2" poem
As I entered the dissection hall with trepidation
My insides churned with disgust
When I set eyes on the cadaver
I felt scared and squeamish, but to continue was a must
I slipped on my gloves
And held up my forceps in my hand
As I looked around at my comrades
I felt I was far from wonderland
Our teacher told us to look down
And appreciate the structures we see
All I could think of was
This is a dead body in front of me
I knew I had to overcome my fears
As medicine was my life
I mustered up all the courage I could
And plunged my forceps into the cadaver like a knife
Everyone was horrified
At the unforeseen cadaver destruction
But I had a strange feeling
Of relief and satisfaction
I knew this was the only way
To rid me of my fear
Now I felt I had triumphed
After having murdered a cadaver
I knew that was technically not possible
After all the cadaver was already dead
I knew I wont go to jail
For severing off a dead head
Now my fear was abolished
The next day I walked in with confidence
What I didn’t know was
I would have to do a harsh penance
My teached made me dissect cadaver after cadaver
Meticulously and carefully
This went on for days together
She showed me no mercy
After a point I began enjoying it
The smell of formalin became appealing
I reveled in the dissection
And slowing my anxiety began retreating
Today I’m thankfull to her
For believing in me
She didn’t let me give up
And made sure I grew from a sapling into a tree
Today I’m a cardiothoracic surgeon
And cadavers don’t excite me anymore
Its beating hearts that do
And long surgeries are therefore never a chore
I still remember my days as a medical student
While meeting the deadlines at the 11th hour
But the day I remember most fondly
Is the day I murdered a cadaver