Long Caregiver Poems
Long Caregiver Poems. Below are the most popular long Caregiver by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Caregiver poems by poem length and keyword.
In the midst of your tranquil vacation,
In a foreign land adorned with dreams,
If by chance you see,
On the edge of a sea, under the starry gaze,
High on a cold and lofty rock,
A woman, sad, gazing into the distance,
Speaking softly to the deep sea,
Her thoughts lost in the shadows.
Know then, in that place of tales,
Where everything seems just right,
She... just listen to my burden,
She has come from lands where hope is rare,
To work hard, to take any chance.
How do I know her silent drama?
Because I come from there, from that pained rock,
From those jagged cliffs that wound the sky,
Where homesickness reveals the truth.
When longing for home becomes too heavy to bear,
And my soul in unceasing pain,
I hide from the world's curious eyes,
With fists full of tears and night,
The wind dries the lingering tears,
I howl... then in silence, I delve,
Gazing long into the boundless abyss,
Oh, how much I could tell you about this endless struggle.
About the life of a caregiver and the daily torment,
But I don't want to be unfair, to stir the diminutive fire.
You've worked a whole year and now you rejoice,
With a smile on your lips and your soul gathered from many murkiness.
Tomorrow, if you see again,
On that rock, wandering the echo,
Just make a gentle hand sign,
And greet me in Romanian on this foreign land of longing.
Admire your joy and peace for a moment,
While I hold my silence like a wing,
In this melancholic dance of our fate,
Where dreams and hardships always gather, from a foreign refuge of longing.
For though our paths diverge and meet again,
We recognize a common end, that is celestial for us,
In the space between longing and belonging,
In the shared pain and silence that gives consistency.
Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy
Parent presents herself as distressed, concerned, loving
Major caregiver to child who appears perpetually sickly
Child’s symptoms are exaggerated
Worse yet, sometimes falsified by mother
She might contaminate the urine samples
Child gets better in hospital until mommy dearest visits
What is happening?
Nurses are the first to suspect
Doctors do not want to think this way
Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy
A mental illness whereby a caregiver
Starves or poisons child
Sadly, many of them are health professionals
Wanting others to consider them saviors
As they save their child once again from the cliff of death
William shows his absolute integrity and empathy when he says
“If I had anything tender in me, I shot it dead.
How can I write to you after what I’ve done?
What I’ve seen?”
Sure, he is a deserter, but there is so much more to this man.
He is not only a deserter, he is a husband and a caregiver.
He is a man who feels he has not lived up to his wife’s expectations.
He feels ruined, unworthy of her now.
This quote gave this reader hope, for I know that he cares.
He is concerned about his wife's wellbeing, about what she thinks.
He is humble, and unassuming.
It makes him more handsome and desirable.
I am cheering for him to write to his wife now.
I like a good French joke, when you listen to it, it makes you want to jump and shout, I like a good French joke; I am full up to my mouth. I like the French accent and the romantic gesture it has at the end, it’s the way the French president use the thumb to show disdain for the gun by pointing the thumb towards the ground. Are you going to make a decree with the King on his second outing? You will not touch that document until all has agreed that the medicine is too strong. You got rid of the queen to highlight your promiscuous dream but you will not suffocate the frock to put a jackass on the block. The French revolution broke out because of disparity between the goat and the cow, the French and the Brits are always at war but in Dickens tales of two cities, the British caregiver in charge of Doctor Manette daughter Lucie gave the French woman Therese, the wine shop proprietor the final sauce. They had it out on the floor and roll from door to door and Therese, the bar owner was shot and left bleeding on the floor and so Lucie and the team could board the plane and return to London. I like a good French Joke when you listen you have to walk about, I like a good French Joke when you know what you are about. Everyone is taking about this thing and they think that they know everything, but only the people in this thing can tell where it all begins. The King is talking about it and his body language suppressing it; the whisperers in the room will meet you soon and you will be in for a big surprise so get ready to roll the dice, I love the, drama, the irony and the twist, it is thought provoking and it sets everyone's mind on fire. Everything is down to the wire now so don’t listen to the whisperer in the room, time will tell you what you need to know soon.
*** Devoted, Choosing to Hold ***
Engaged
By your spirit;
My heart to yours; my heart’s hoping ~
Choosing,
Not that long after we met.
Completely to embrace you.
And you,
Losing your heart to me, choosing
To commit yourself to a “hand-full”
(in terms of the creative personality
as defined by experts**).
You,
from a southern town;
a male; “ minister’s kid;”
curious about outer-space;
quiet; student; survivor; an
admirable man; introvert, but
socially generous and well-liked;
an engineer; brother of five; fan of
blues/jazz; witty; reader; hard-worker;
compassionate; empathetic;
politically/socially concerned;
fond of cats; caregiver.
And so,
Beloved,
I suspect you
Took more
Into your hands and heart ~ likely
More than you could imagine, for
I am nearly your opposite:
female/ extrovert/ Christian mystic/
poet/ artist/
reader/ talkative/ teacher/
sibling of one/ survivor/
- former - former - politically/socially
ballerina/ Cc 1970’s hippie concerned/
quick to sing but not always in tune/
now need 24/7 care due to physical illness/ quick to laugh/
easy to weep/ compassionate/ empathetic/
from densely urban north/ loves dogs.
Devoted,
Here, loving
We live; sharing
Our full hearts
And this day,
Into tomorrow,
Giving thanks to Abba
For blessings, and for
Inspiring this love
That holds us so
Well together.
——————————————————————————————————————
* notes — experts: Will Durant, Colin McGinn, Hildegard of Bingen,
Richard Rohr, Fr. Thomas Merton, Rabbi Rami Shapiro,
,Makoto Fujtimmurgay
ALSO!……when searching for the FORM for this poem, I looked for “experimental” or “avant-garde” but neither is on the list. .
(c) sally young eslinger 10/10/22
Thanks be to God!
Exhausted for days and nights
of caring, for the wanderer-patient;
I heard a knock at the door.
The many sleepless nights, left me in a brain-fog;
the knock awoke me from a migraine-faint.
My patient-father wandering;
oblivious to the fact that, I had fainted;
had no idea, that his sitter had arrived.
To an Alzheimer’s caregiver,
it’s the tiny things that matter;
like someone arriving to provide respite,
when you’ve not slept for nine days and nights.
A simple knock at the door,
takes on a whole new meaning;
especially, after the migraine,
has set up its camping tent
inside of your brain.
"So full of comfort- broken in with love;
well used and shaped- where all fit like a glove."
_by Poet
A home is likened to a nest-
where each day's end we go to rest.
A comfort zone- great times or bad;
thank happy days- and heal the sad.
A home, so patient with our needs
hugs us the same- green lawn or weeds.
It welcomes us through any door-
arms open wide to rest, restore.
It offers shelter to survive
a place to cook, eat and revive;
to entertain and share with friends-
the comfort of a home extends.
Alone- with family, or pet
it is the place we'll not forget;
good memories will never roam-
from this caregiver, we call home.
March 31, 2022
Contest: Form L - Lay Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme Chosen: #4- Home
Caregiver
Caregiver,
You came into our family
As a river of hope.
Ever flowing, always there,
Providing loving care,
So we could cope.
Caregiver,
You became an uncaring taker.
With your undue influence
You spent her money
On your own selfish wants.
Under false pretenses, you dragged her along daily,
Using her vehicle for your own personal errands.
Like a foe you fought our family!
As we became wise to your machinations.
And when your goose was finally cooked,
Your last act was to vandalize in secret,
Leaving her heartbroken.
Oh, Uncaring Taker,
How unconscionable were your actions.
How hateful you became.
Why were you this way?
How I would like to make you pay,
But it's her wish to leave it this way.
***
December 9, 2019
F T I SPECIAL family
Brian Strand, sponsor
Copyright © 2018 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Published 2018 in "Up In Smoke - A Collection of Poems" via wattpad.com
For He blew me a kiss
He created me
He made in me
And I reverence HIM
As I melt in HIM
For He blew me a kiss
For his Spirit flows
Deep inside me a grows He knows
For He is the reason that my life essence shows (glows)
For He blew me a kiss
For He blew me a kiss
And HIS wind went through my nostrils into my lungs
and I became a living soul and my heart began beating
and He fashioned me He molded me and placed me in a vessel
For He blew me a kiss
so that I may worship Him so that may be a loving being
so that I may be a care taker a caregiver so that I may be free
My God kissed me
With all of his love He create me
My God loves me with all of HIS heart He came down in humans flesh
and He died for me
He resurrected Himself He died for me
He gave me breath inside of this flesh
For He blew me a kiss
He created me
He made in me
And I reverence HIM
As I melt in HIM
For He blew me a kiss
For his Spirit flows
Deep inside me a grows He knows
For He is the reason that my life essence shows (glows)
For He blew me a kiss
6/28/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
"From anthology " a love song "
For context, I'm almost 22.
I got sick at 18.
It's not like cancer or M.S., I'm not going to die.
But there's no explanation for the reason why I got sick.
Nobody knows, not me, not my doctor, not the specialists.
Mum thinks it's because I left home too young.
Dad thinks I have too much anxiety and I'm sick because of it.
My fianceé thinks maybe I'm reacting to my birth control or to natural hormones.
I think I woke up one day and I was sick.
It went just like that. Waking up one day with my stomach turning inside out.
Shoulders heaving for hours every morning,
Curled up on the floor of the bathroom, protesting the muscle convulsions.
I woke up this way every morning for over a year and no specialist could tell me why.
All I know is I'm sick.
My fianceé didn't sign up to be a caregiver,
Yet somehow he's thrown into the part.
Today, if I travel, I wake up sick. If I stay at a friend's house, I wake up sick. Often, when everything is normal, I still get sick.
I wake up at either midnight, 02:00am, or 05:00am and there is no hope of sleep until at least noon.
There is overwhelming nausea, dizziness, muscles contracting violently and burning.
There are my teeth which seem to be wearing away from my stomach acid.
There is the feeling that if this has to be my life now, i don't want to live it.
It's been 3 years since I had a single day without pain.
I pop ribs out of place as I vomit, so even after the nausea subsides I'm left sore and often bedridden.
My fianceé tries to ask how he can help,
And I'm sent into an emotional spiral.
"You can't help. I can't help me, my doctors can't - i don't want to do this tomorrow morning. I don't wanna wake up tomorrow if it'll be another day of this. I wanna give up."
Today, I want to give up. I want the burning muscles to stop. I want to be able to eat something other than applesauce mixed with water and not throw it up.
This doesn't feel like a life anymore.
I just wanna get better already.
I pray to whatever God listens that I get better.
I cannot do this forever.