Nursing Home Poems | Examples
These Nursing Home poems are examples of Home poems about Nursing. These are the best examples of Home Nursing poems written by international poets.
The Good was Taken out of the Summer
The good was taken out of the summer,
With her garden patch left abandoned,
Lettuce heads and scallions gone wild,
Her sweet summer plans all spoiled.
The good was taken out of the summer,
With green fly festering her roses,
Overwatered orchids on the sill
As her plastic bread bowl lay still.
The good was taken out of the summer,
With Hunter, her dog left in waiting
For her voice, her footsteps, her care
And the fridge in the kitchen left bare.
The good was taken out of the summer,
Put on pause til her homecoming came,
While in convalescence she lay
In a nursing home, day after day.
The good was put back into summer,
When she returned to where she belonged,
To her garden patch, Hunter and flowers,
To sit,
To be still,
To be ours.
“Wherever I lay my hat”, he said
Inferring home was there.
A state of belonging bound in felt
Anchored in darkest millinery.
He had his hat; his hat was home.
The putrid hostel beds and often doorways
Always home to him,
Never mind the ice-cold fingers,
Ripping at his worn sleeping bag
Storm after storm assaulted the city.
He was warm within himself.
He had his hat; his hat was home.
A security blanket, nursing his psyche
Hiding him away from the hideous reality
Where the discarded homeless was a norm.
Society, uncaring, dismissed him with a glance,
Pouring hateful derision his way
He had his hat; his only home.
Juvenility meets senility
Childlike to childish formality
Nursing home abnormality
Inmates extend hospitality
I run as if they have a malady
Old men
sit in wheelchair
drool
that call, a face
porcelain
pressed against glass
and dead eyes wrought
from an attic room
watching us
her name badge was
irrelevant
“No, those top rooms
are not used, full
of junk and all locked up”
yet the face watched us
leave; into
the further ghosts
of night
“God setteth the solitary in families…” Psalm 68:6 of the King James Bible.
Home assures God’s presence so blest
Where love, mercy, truth and peace reign
Nurturing members with grace best
To smite attacks of conflict pain.
Midst struggles challenging the heart
Home assures God’s presence so blest
Against downfall from grievous dart
Nursing wounded soul with caring zest.
Striving for favored service quest
My weary faith needs glowing cheer
Home assures God’s presence so blest
Welcoming with fellowship dear.
Secured by warmth of prayer ties
I find rest in family’s nest
Although outside comforts entice
Home assures God’s presence so blest.
February 26, 2023
2nd place, "Writing Challenge -H Words" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 2/28/2023.
One disgruntled nursing assistant
calls it: the s..t house.
I overhear the laughter of angels.
The inmates know it as ‘Fair Havens’
some have a sense of humor
they name the place the ‘Twilight Zone’
or the ‘Dead End.’
It’s no worse or better
than any last stop for the infirm of age,
but meals and flushing toilets here
seem synonymous
coming as they do so often one after the other.
I visit him, he’s no relation, my wife knew him,
just a wrinkled-up guy who talks about his boyhood
as if it were yesterday
and recalls many a disreputable dirty story.
I take notes, and he asks what am I writing down?
I tell him I’m a recorder of lost worlds.
He smiles and nods, continues to speak
about matters of great insignificance
yet his ramblings are still a living truth.
He reminds me of an edgy comic
who’s inappropriate and insulting jokes
will turn the air as blue
as the skin of a still grinning corpse.
She's slow as molasses,
And really a pain.
Let her stay home forever!
We have nothing to gain.
Taking a walker down the
stairs?
Is really something, we just
can no longer bear!
Worse is her hearing, deaf
as a door nail!
She won't be able to even
read the menu.
She can watch TV until she
dies.
Or a nice nursing home?
She would be so surprised.
It would be easier on all of us,
don't you see?
After all, she's very close to
eternity!
7/3/2021
The shaman speaks of plants to see,
other cosmic dimensions energy.
The Zulu’s stamp dance the ground,
working the earth to a drumming sound.
Smokes from many ashes taken in breath,
medicine pipe presenting the living death.
Monks in high altitude poring colored sand,
a new wheel of time mandala grand.
The Sufi in a poetic conclusion rhyme,
reasons to everything - in its perfect time.
The Runes of Nordic legacies,
and its roots of testing integrities.
The Sangoma takes one to the very edge,
and something closer to the truth is wedged.
Distilled elixir from the Alchemist to turn,
working matter and spirit discern.
Wind carries it in its womb,
natures nursing care and thereof bloom.
Akasha's force due cosmic balance act,
shadows of inner reality fact.
The love that manifests as tolerance,
heals wounds of hearts in forgiveness.
Scriptures of kindled souls and its struggles,
when quickening the heart by dominance.
Pondering prayers and golden fine thread lining,
homewards all souls in absolute defining.
Once there was a nursing home man called Fred,
at night he was found in an old gals bed;
with a great big happy smile,
his pajamas in a pile;
when questioned- "THIS is my dead wife" he said !
________________________________
August 27, 2020 (Repost from 2019)
Poetry/Limerick/nursing home FRED
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1281-737-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Submitted into the contest, Living It Up For Laughter New/Old
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke
First Place
Old men
sit in wheelchairs, drool
warehouses for people
Apple blossom boogie
Whoopee Whoop Whoop
Double time and triple time
Have some vegetable soup
Fats Dominoes in the hallway
Shuffleboard too
Twist with Chubby Checkers
Add morphine to my stew
I’m catching glimpses
Dancing round my nursing room bed
The nurse starts screaming loudly
I guess I’ve fallen on my head
Give her extra pills someone whispers.
Dancing with Elvis’ blue suede shoes
I shut my eyes and pretend
I don’t hear these nuts and cuckoos
Prancing around the hallway
The alarms go off so loud
I’ve lost a lot of dignity
In this weird old people crowd
They sit and stare
Some not aware
Sit lay bed alone
Lights turn on
Under
Nursing Home Care
Once there was a nursing home man called Fred,
at night he was found in an old gals bed;
with a great big happy smile,
his pajamas in a pile;
when questioned- "THIS is my dead wife" he said !
_____________________________
May 19, 2019
Added after contest judged, June 11, 2019-
Poetry/Limerick/Nursing Home Fred
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1145-321-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
(Syllable Count 10,10,7,7,10)
Written for the contest, Bawdy Limericks
sponsor, Tania Kitchin
First Place
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.