There I stood at heavens pearly gates
Waiting for God to decide my fate
I was still a child, though very sick
Hoping my passing would be quick.
Then an angel suddenly appeared
Took my hand and said “not yet dear”
“Hold on tight and I’ll fly you home”
In a flash I was back in bed alone.
Home for me was a hospital ward
Where the illness had to take it’s course
Though it was a long painful ordeal
I got well, but the pain I had was surreal.
The hurt was daily, monthly and yearly
Told I was too young for hip surgery
My compensating knee wore out too
So one operation became two.
Forty years passed before the first op
Two years later, the second op I got
I must have had a miracle man
For both surgeries went to plan.
Bless all medics who take care of us
Every one is a gift from above.
The enemy within
There has been a war up North but after some times
the occupying forces surrendered and took the train
back where they came from.
Newspapers and magazines were (for a while) free
of censors and horrific stories and pictures emerged
which the boy didn’t grasp and soon forgot.
75 years later, the boy, now an old man laid up in
a hospital ward gazing at a white wall remembered
the horrific photos he had seen.
Pictures of sexual deviations, torture and murder
not committed by the foreign occupier but by
opportunists who thrive in the shadow of wars
Sociopaths for whom other lives do not matter
to enrich themselves and indulge in obscene sex
that cumulate in strangling their unlucky victims.
Sociopathy is not an illness, is for them normal
as they are not humans and therefore lack humanity
love is for them, feelings of scant importance.
They, the sociopaths, are well-educated people
found in politics, the clerics, armed forces and
business, where they can exercise power over others
The war in Ukraine is a good example they are
pumping in weapons and refusing any peace negotiation
to the extent of risking a nuclear Armageddon.
QUESTION
Do you know?
That there's a world?
In this same world?
Looking like another world?
That there's a sick world?
Where people barely say a word?
Do you know?
People lie all day?
Spooned all day?
They admire legs that smash the floor?
Hands that could glide ?
Some cannot afford the hospital ward?
That some left in the process?
Do you know?
We are using the same clock?
That they ought to be with us?
Making a difference too?
That their hearts complain?
Never a day without tears
Grease of smile can be applied
With our presence
With our presents
With out prayers
Do you know?
©Kporho Vwede Daniel
07067333949
(IG: General Ali Official)
All rights reserved
Watching the round clock reach midnight on hospital wall, my sister one side I on other side of his hospital bed, both of us upset, for hours we had cried, saddened, realizing he was in discomfort, eyes were glazed, skin cold to the feel, we were asked into quiet room for chat,
as we looked and listened to reality, explanations of the situation,
we were told symptoms unable to heal, agreed to the Liverpool care pathway, life support systems was taken away, we felt so helpless yet still full of hope, we just wanted some kind of miracle though knowing his pain would only be relieved through his passing from this world, hour after hour passed, sunlight illuminated this hospital ward the dawning of a new day, tiredness, sorrow, distress plus a mixture of emotions filed our mind and bodies, patients were being treated, breakfast served, all were normal except for what we were seeing, we were to experience inevitable, we both held his hands, he took his last breath, now out of pain, no more worries, peaceful.
True life that once bloomed
gave pleasure to so many
low grey clouds give hope.
Composed on 13/10/2017
For contest Broken-Hearted poem
Sponsored by Broken Wings.
The withered yuka's
shadow on the plain white wall -
hospital ward.
Her voice echoed through the hallways
Of the pediatric oncology hospital ward
When people saw the young girl who sang these songs
They were stunned and they were floored
She sang unaccompanied
But there was music in her voice
The children all felt better
As if they hadn’t another choice
She wasn’t paid to entertain them
She wasn’t doing work for charity
She wasn’t a doctor or nurse there to cure them
She was a patient with one of the maladies
Then, one day, the halls were silent
Into her lungs the cancer had eventually crept
Children and parents were disheartened
Even, from up high, the angels wept
But, the tear drops from angels
Plus prayers from souls down here on earth
Helped to bring about a medical miracle
And her cancer, somehow, did reverse
Her voice rang out again in a soft lullaby
While future angels in their beds slept
Once again hope was planted into patient’s hearts
Once again, on high, the angels wept
I once met an angel
working on an hospital ward
A Macmillan nurse
comp entry 30032016
Judes Tearjerker ending to Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms
1918
The Italian Campaign
The last days of word war 1
He had made the journey
across the Swiss mountains.
The war was far behind him now
just Catherine lay ahead.
As he reached the hospital ward
the old nurse shook her head.
What of the baby?he asked,
her sad eyes looked down at the floor.
Catherine lay pale and weak
on the hospital bed.
Somehow
she managed a smile at his arrival.
"Oh darling,
I am going to die.
Don’t let me die.
Hold me in your arms!
Hold me tight.
Don’t let me go.
When you hold me
we cannot be parted
If you stay with me
I shall not be afraid."
As she left him the church bells tolled.
Declaring the Armistice
The war had ended for some.
He carried her in his arms
to the window.
The crowds below
Cheering the wars end
had released white doves into the air.
They fluttered by the hospital window.
As if to carry her soul to heaven,
He kissed her still lips
And whispered
peace, peace
at last my darling
You will not see them behind the gun
You will not see them when the race is won
You will not see them behind the sword
But you shall see them walking with the Lord
You will not see them in front of a fireworks display
You will not see them when the rest go out to play
You will not see them behind a banner or award
But you shall see them talking to the Lord
You will not find them on a pedestal
You will not find them framed on the wall
But you might find them in the hospital ward
For they tend to their flock as did the Lord
Hidden Heroes their wounds are deep
They stay strong as we may weep
Silent strength as they go toward
Helping to heal as did the Lord.
Feb.17.2016 ^WW^
Its now three nights past,
me turning four.
I hardly knew what happened later,
and my sweet granny was on the ventilator.
She lived strong,
even at the stupendous sixty.
My dad turned restless,
be it day or night.
The doctors said,
"Its too hard to settle things".
Many were those ailments and tender wounds,
that her body bore.
She hid all that pain,
and kept me happy even at the worst times.
She forgot those knee cramples she suffered,
when she ran behind me to feed.
Mom spent hours in front of the idol,
Wishing a speedy recovery.
But i never knew what would happen,
for those granny memories that haunted me.
I felt proud,
few days back.
I punched the stout big granny on her chest,
yet she masked her pain to keep me happy.
Now that punch,
is what gazes my sight.
ashamed, I am,
for all that i did.
Now for the doctors pamper,
granny turned fit.
I leapt four to five,
From my place to the hospital ward.
One tight hug,
and a flood of tears, I drained.
Tears rolled down granny's cheeks,
but i knew, they were seeing me happy. #PSM
with the newborn,
the dying and the dead,
joyful scream and
grieving shrieks
swirl about,
new lives flowing in,
spent lives ebbing out.
much to be grateful
for births and rebirths,
laser-sharp knives, pain
and dread for death,
with each gasping for
the first or last breath.
Dried leaves whirl away,
green sprouts sway,
shrouds of forgetting,
vague rememberings
at the seamless rim
of ends and beginnings!
It was exactly what the doctor feared,
after the chemical explosion,
she just stared
about the hospital ward,
so many lives at stake,
she felt as if her heart would break,
the place was crammed
with many beds as it could hold,
so many spirits damned,
and so many souls were cold,
and most of the space
was filled with sleeping mats,
and death is what most would face,
as the holy ghost just sat,
it was certain it could smell
the stench of death
in this isolated hell,
as it held its breath,
there was a low background hum of pain,
soldiers going insane,
salvation was needed,
and God tries,
as several other soldiers who were contributing
far louder cries,
waits...
My life was full of sin and shame,
things one can't bear to name.
I cared about no one but me, myself, and I.
however, often wished I would die.
My heart was full of hatred and pain,
bad memories that flooded my brain.
Tired of wearing a smile that was fake,
my very life I tried to take.
In a hospital ward I awoke one day,
undetermined how long I would stay.
I needed something to clear my head,
so I looked in the table near my bed.
What I found was a Bible to read,
left by the Gideons for those in need.
I read of a man who died for sin & strife,
even promised the gift of eternal life.
That very day I became free at last,
forsaking all the things of my past.
Where would I be,
if Jesus had never found me?