Long Angina Poems
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A HEARTY EXPERIENCE
Bad cholesterol found easy sites in my heart for deposition
Time came when they needed to be cleaned by operation.
Two stents were planted by what they called angioplasty
My heart would survive if the arteries didn't again get nasty.
As medical treatments were getting day by day costly
For future financial relief I got a health insurance policy.
I realized the meaning of the saying nothing lasts forever
When some years later my heart in angina started to quiver.
No options left, I had to lie once again on operation table
The doctors did their job well to make my heart stable.
The rightful claim of expenses the insurer refused to cover
For I had more than one stent placed already as heart saver.
I then realized howsoever in the ads the offers glint
In real life one shoulda read the fine print.
February 1, 2018.
Santa learned about a year ago that the North Pole was thawing slow,
And in the not too distant future, he may be adrift on a perilous floe!
That was disturbing, but another situation has elicited little cheer.
(As if the jolly old gent didn't have enough to worry about this time of year!)
His toy making operation has slowed and there's little work for the elves,
Resulting in massive lay-offs and, sadly, a lot of bare and empty shelves!
Many of his little sprites collect unemployment due to the lack of work,
And Mrs. Clause nags him about getting decent work, driving him berserk!
Things deteriorated to such a degree that he asked Obama for largesse,
And of course he replied, "Sure! I'll tax the rich to cover your distress!"
This unfortunate dilemma has caused Santa a serious bout of angina,
Since nowadays, most of Santa's goodies are being "MADE IN CHINA!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Screams of heart,
Pricks of needle.
Shivers of the Cadaver,
Breaking of thunder!
How can't I wonder?
Lying crushed on the land of tormentors.
Little did they realize,
How hard they made me cry.
The moment I asked,
Is there a place to run?
Or a place to hide?
A pair of sight,
Staring deep, dark into my eyes.
An unspoken question reclined:
"Why are you still alive?
Why didn't you die?"
Lightning struck up high,
Leaving my undescribed condition behind.
Quivering digits seized the pen tight.
Praying and begging, I asked:
Is there a place to run?
Or a place to hide?
A question came to my mind,
How shall I write when-
Feet remained immobilized,
Lips left paralyzed,
Tears dropping, symbolized,
The horrified ache of angina
Whispered a final byeee!
May now you tranquil,
May now you alleviate,
Since I reached that place
Where none can penetrate.
It's known as Paradise,
Completely different from my mind's eyes.
Is it the place to run?
Or a place to hide?
FRANK AND TIM AND BEIJING
Frank and I planned a visit to Beijing,
The attraction was their night life
And bright lights,
Maybe we would visit one or two
Historical sights?
We drank a lot on our trip
To the East,
And we didn’t feel disturbed in
The least,
That the passengers just gave us
A glare and a stare,
And most probably wished we were
Really not there!
We arrived, and the pilot wished us
All a pleasant stay,
Wow, we were now ready to begin
Our two week holiday,
But what now, we could not speak
A word of Chinese,
Not even to say hello, thank-you
Or please!
On the way to the youth hostel 10 men
Surrounded us with guns,
They bundled us into a chauffeur driven
Bentley,
Not one of them spoke English, and not at
All friendly.
For a fleeting moment I thought we
Are now going to die,
And that our end was horribly nigh!
They ushered us into an opulent mansion
And said,
Now you see boss, this time I had a very
Real vision of us on the floor, dead!
The boss, an eccentric man briskly
Walked in,
Exceptionally tall, and very thin,
I recognized him immediately, he
Was my Mom’s brother, Uncle Ben,
He looked at me and laughed, something
Was wrong,
But at least we could speak to him,
In our mother tongue!
He explained that he was the boss of
A drug ring,
Now there’s a thing!
My Uncle Ben,
A drug lord
I was in no mood for him
To invite us on board!
A mistake he sheepishly explained,
They were looking for the brother,
Of his head man’s mother!
He apologized on behalf of what,
His men had done,
I couldn’t wait to tell my mom!
Uncle Ben offered us his Bentley for
The remainder of our holiday in China,
And that he was about to retire,
Because, he suffered from Angina.
Our last day arrived, we got on
The plane,
Tim and I wrote Uncle Ben a card and
Thanked him a ton,
We had made memories in Beijing
Only experienced by some,
Like ours, probably none!
One made of Bonn china, somehow, gets a great attraction,
In steel and glass and plastic and bronze... lo, how many forms!
There's a creative artistic beauty in each faction,
Indeed, the craftsmen, in mind and heart, have their unique norms...!
I had one made of glass, in sky blue, a few years ago,
I had saved it like an antique valuable for long;
One day, lo, an absent-minded carelessness I did show,
I dropped it and broke; how long had I regretted my wrong...!
Jugs I have, now, a few in brass, steel, and Bonn china,
I consider them precious and see to their protection;
Yet, when I hold any of these a thought like angina,
Enters my heart and digs out my old buried dejection...!
As Images of God, humans continue the creation,
A jug too, like other gifts, can bring inner elation...!!!
It was a big backyard,
big enough to hold
the imagination of a boy -
trees to climb,
sheds to explore,
a large lawn to swing a bat
or kick a ball
and in a quiet corner,
a sanctuary for prayer
when my grandmother,
bent over and groaning
with angina, had me
go there and ask God
for help.
There were long summers
of almonds, plump grapes,
peaches and apricots
and cold winters bursting
with big, bright oranges.
There were places where
you could heal a hurt
or hide when bruised and full
of fear. Sad how it grew
smaller with the years
like an old religion,
less important to life,
ignored until it shrank
to the size of a lemon tree
nourished only
by the beer filled bladders
of teenage boys back from
the local pub,
dying for a pee.
When people ask me
“how are you”, I say “fine”,
a short reply but a huge lie,
because I am a walking hospital
where in every corner disease lurks,
from head to toe the list is below.
The head splits in hypertensive headache morning till night
One eye’s vision is hazy with AMD, the other’s with cataract
The red nose runs the whole winter with spells of sinusitis
The ears are blocked to near deafness by obstinate hard wax
The aching shoulders have been frozen long by spondylosis
The blocked heart paining in angina has two stents though
The stomach secretes burning acid more than necessary
The liver sends artery-full of LDL to the stenosed heart
The sluggish kidneys have built bags under the eyes
The bloated prostate breaks sleep thrice at night
The knee joints abrade painfully in osteoarthritis
The big toes swell red in ceaseless bouts of gout.
I am still walking my hospital,
searching for a patient doctor (GP)
who will take charge and cure me.
July 29, 2019
Contest : Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List
Sponsor : Dear Heart
Ever watch the man pull into wheelchair parking,
get out of his car and walk into a store.
Ever watch an obese woman eating at a buffet
and you think there is just no excuse,
Ever see a teenager with piercings standing in a store,
you quickly move to another aisle.
Ever stand in line for a cashier and tap your feet
while the elderly woman counts out her change.
Ever look at the woman wearing a hijab
and think she is different and cannot be trusted.
Ever want to sit down on the bus
but some young whipper-snapper does not give up their seat.
Ever consider that you may be prejudice
and need to carefully examine why you feel that way.
Consider this;
The man in wheelchair parking has heart disease
and cannot walk long distances without developing angina.
The obese woman gained weight when she developed arthritis
and is no longer able to work-out as she had when she was well.
The teenager is kind and thoughtful and was about to ask you
if you need help in reaching an item on the shelf,
The elderly woman worked hard all her life and is just trying to make
the cashier’s life easier by giving her the exact change.
The woman wearing the hijab is a kind and caring person
who is about to become your physician,
The young whipper-snapper on the bus has just been diagnosed
with cancer and is too weak to stand for the ride,
Ever think that you are making judgement
without knowledge or the full facts.
No more prejudice,
Ever.
Written September 9, 2012
For Debbie Guzzi’s contest
“Stand”
You know her
You feel she mingles in your reason in rhythm
Not with your possible pain of angina in arrhythmia
She is a calm serenity prayer
that knows your tear and that needs to run down on your smile lines
she is a kitchen cookie baking sheet
tracing paper cyan heed
never a plotter, never a san Juan never a San Francisco
But she is there too, with things on the verge of unsayable , she is there, too!
not to announce i am possible
but to possibly remind
even an ounce meant!
Rockefeller center and Rockford too
hit hard rock bottom with your pain
with all her pensive boon!
the 'MOTHER'S DAY' Poetry Contest entry
Upside Down World
The great man and conjurer of poetic license sat behind
the analytic couch and murmured to himself that it is
all about aggression and sex lots of sex for that grave matter
it shapes the world from underneath a smouldering gun
Phallus in metaphoric metaplastic hands ideas vibrate
‘what goes up must come down’ he pondered as he smoked
the cigar piped up dreams when a pipe is simply not merely
a flute and the lute brings luscious shadows to the fore
Eros meanwhile contemplates on regal roads from joy
to consciousness at ninety-six the styx is near enough
What has the world come to he’s no more sixty-nine
where is Freud’s promise as wars rage rampantly but
flaccid skin shrivels beyond tall towers of yesteryear
when hedonistic gardens slipped quietly from paradise
Eye-sight vanished hearing demised turgor spent and forces
only a distant reminder of battles fought for the human
condition he reads ‘ARGAIV’ on the blister pack he holds
with arthritic hands his heart attacks soft memories when
the nurse wipes him clean and he slobbers his tablets
It is a downside up world and time has tattooed Eve’s apple
upside down on his loins and the growing pain of a promise
once held of a better world with kindness love and compassion
Eros with Freud in his thoughts has again mixed up his drugs
as moaning angina takes over when he swallows his swan song
He should not have kept that one VIAGRA capsule maybe and
only his world in last rites is a much better place