Long Illness Poems
Long Illness Poems. Below are the most popular long Illness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Illness poems by poem length and keyword.
When the hurting speaks
Vs 1
All of the memories...
flood back with time
I've never been taught, how
to handle it right
Vs 2
All the thoughts linger...
in the cracks of the mind
Where no one expects,
or is able to find
Bridge
Where are you going
in this altered state?
Where nothing is real,
and solutions are fake.
Chorus
What will you do now?
Wait in the darkness...
Wait in the darkness...
Until...the hurting speaks
and, tears your insides out
that's when the hurting speaks
Vs 3
Why are they speaking
words I cannot hear
I see their lips moving
but I still live in fear
Vs 4
They've got all the answers
or so, they will say
But they couldn't live,
in my day to day
Vs 5
All that you need is to
take our nice pills
Blues reds and greens will
manage all your ills
Chorus
What will you do now?
Wait in the darkness...
Wait in the darkness...
Until...the hurting speaks
and, tears your insides out
that's when the hurting speaks
and, tears your insides out
that's when the hurting speaks...
John Derek Hamilton
August 13,2023
In The Realm of Silver Linings,
you never will find rust,
and never will you ever
see things turn to dust.
Bees may sting, but in this realm,
a bee’s sting does not hurt.
The sweetest honey flows instead.
Baklava will be dessert.
In the Realm of Silver Linings,
should you break a bone,
by nightfall you are healed.
No one has been heard to groan.
Illness rarely finds you there.
Even if it should -
recovery comes as easily
as simply knocking wood.
In the Realm of Silver Linings
lemons don’t need to be sour,
and needful rainfall only comes
lightly like a shower.
You may think such a place
as this cannot exist,
but those with faithful hearts
by good luck there are kissed.
In the Realm of Silver Linings
live those who learned to cope
with trials previously given
but who all the while kept their hope!
Traumatized the dramatic impact of my own weary life
Short-wired brain activity need to be put under the knife
How to believe in the entity that now controls my mind
Lost somewhere in between seeing nothing but not yet blind
Too many times injuries have been neatly brushed aside
Too many times no one listening trauma color covered lies
Now facing the probabilities this damage so permanent
Now losing the ability of the meaning of what is meant
So I ponder all these things as nightmares burn my dreams
Thinking that I cannot think yelling out in silent screams
Wanting myself to want to be just that normal girl
Traumatic brain spinning off-balance fall and twirl
Vision clouded coverings water filled searching eyes
Memory hazed misty themes who, what, where, or why
Balance vertigoes sway and weave never gaining forward space
Behavior erratic violently I need to get out of this place
bmdavey@08/15/22
Cure me from this disease
Let me be in the blessed breeze
Are you still by my side?
Has your faith dried? Has it died?
Let me fix you
Cuz you're broken
Let me fix you
With words unspoken
I'll be your cure to your illness
I'll be your cure to your distress
Endure this hardship right now
Be inspired and driven somehow
Are you still by my side?
Where do you hide? Where's your inner pride?
Let me fix you
Cuz you're broken
Let me fix you
With words unspoken
I'll be your cure to your illness
I'll be your cure to your distress
I'm unsure of what lies ahead
I can't just erase all your dread
Are you still by my side?
Is your faith high and wide? Where's your guide?
Let me fix you
Cuz you're broken
Let me fix you
With words unspoken
I'll be your cure to your illness
I'll be your cure to your distress
Let me fix you
Cuz you're broken
Let me fix you
With words unspoken
I'll be your cure to your illness
I'll be your cure to your distress
Where have you been?
Have you gone away again?
Let me fix you...
Let me heal you true
Let me fix you...
So you won't be so blue
Insomnia’s Dream
A Poetic Expression by JC Hawkens
I reach for the walls
Blinded by the light
I hear a voice call
With rhythm and rhyme
Not a shadow in sight
Fear hangs as tension that mounts
My head is so empty
It screams in my mind
A lingering hope that kills only
with time
In a motion I break from the bed
To conquer the light
found only in my head
Stand sight of the clock
At quarter past three
A nightmare I can not win
Awake and never free
A container of my freedom within my grasp
A flip of the top, comes to pass
With water from a glass
An answer for a reflection
None too soon in coming
A sleep at last
Forever in peace
Not a voice to awaken
Nor a light to break this sleep
(yes, I'm serious)
Three minutes.
That’s how long it took
to name a swarming mess:
A self-appointed poet
with rogue chemicals sizzling in her nerves.
The diagnosis long and fancy—
bitter but addictive
on my tongue,
like the gin I’ve grown fluent in.
(Is that why his voice was slurred?)
“…The patient flinches
at the morning rains in May.
Her ink contradicts herself…
…and her thoughts betray.”
“…Well, this is why.” He pointed at my brain.
I sighed and rest
my head against the chilly wall
painted a welcoming shade of yellow.
The nurse lit branded candles:
they reserve lavender
for calming the stormier souls—
but I blow out the flame
with laughters drumming in my rib cage—
All this time,
I’ve been stuck
in debates on who’s to blame
But finally—finally,
Printed on stapled prescription bags—
a long, fancy name.
Now we can toast
with tablets in paper cups—
Here’s to
finding an enemy that's not me.
The world is full of whackos
If you listen to the news,
And not just those who do not share
Your values or your views.
It’s not always mental illness
That makes certain folks behave
In a way that spreads discomfort
In the way they rant and rave.
An unruly person flying
Bit a passenger on board,
Just another fine example
Of the point I’m aiming toward.
There’s another tale of someone
On a plane who left his seat
And attempted opening a door
At 30,000 feet.
Hey, right here in New York City,
I have sensors to avoid
All those people on the streets
Who leave me scared more than annoyed.
Life is challenging for many
But it seems at every turn
There’s a whacko waiting in the wings
To cause you some concern.
My name is James, born 1961
In Inverness, a small Scots town
To my father Andrew, and my mother Beryl
And Billy my brother, a pair of devils
In 67, we woke one night
Our house was ablaze, full of orange light
Our neighbour next door, for whatever reason
Started a fire, it must be crazy season
We had too move to a caravan park
By this time it,s three, to make a new start
My mother Beryl decide to leave
But the three of us left, never bothered to grieve
In the next few weeks, we ended in court
Two small children, in a marriage abort
We were asked to choose either Dad or Mum
But we ignored the parent, who went on the run
As we left the court, to start a new life
We felt sorry for Dad, as his illness was rife
He never told us that he was unwell
It would upset one of his boys, as the future will tell
Then came the night all parents dread;
Being told one of his boys is nearly dead
We were going to a boys club, on a Monday night
My brother was running so far out of sight
I turned the corner to see him ahead
No!! he's been hit by a van, Boom's Boom's dead
I ran to my father, sreaming and crying
I'm finding my life,at 7 - far too trying
After the funeral, and with my father unwell
We left Inverness, our eyes a swell
To go as two, and not three as before
It's like Mother Nature closed a door
So we headed west, to a place called Fort William
Was it in the stars, cause Billy " is " William
We moved there, as the air was so pure
Hoping my father will find his cure
For whatever reason, we left the above
We found no Angel or peaceful dove
So we headed back to Inverness
Fathers health decreasing, life still a stress
Over the next few years, i was fostered and loaned
In couples houses and children's homes
It was really strange in all those places
Different people, different faces
Then on the 16th of Feb - 76,
James, i was told, your dads very sick.
The cancer had taken your father away
To be with Billy, where you'll join them one day
In 77, i joined the Navy, as i promised my dad you see.
I did'nt enjoy it, i decided to leave
Back up north, where my futures to be
I wanted to have, what my parents had lost
And that was my aim, no matter the cost
see page 2 of 2, ty..
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php
Waking, she inspects the color under her sweater
and sighs that vague orange is still wearing her.
Orange can’t be her friend until it reveals its core.
While white is already a friend, the floating ones
aloofly speak of odd concerns she cannot pattern.
At times, float-whites hear, but never do they listen
or cease insisting that she has dreams, NOT visions.
Blue, green, pink and white all bring truths to her:
if she finds the correct umbrella, she could fly thru
blue-white skies adorned with smeared pink pops
over green’s velvet-thick and lush laid blankets.
When she gains the doors other side, freedom
will lead her to the right, flight-ready umbrella.
Sorting and storing colors keeps her busy all day.
Her favorites - blue, green, pink and white shades,
she tenderly places in see thru plastic jars, all
other colors she discards as too bland hearted.
Daily relief is happily seized by determining
not even a kernel of purple is in her world.
Purple startles, it is pain’s chosen dispersal
that circles and circles until she curls up,
prone atop piles of her own broken pieces.
Occupied with her color heaps, she spies a white-
float fluttering in her doorway at a time too early
for the syringe of colorless assistance
that simplifies her organizational tasks.
She hears white make words but disappears
inside of all pink things with soft plumes.
“Both your parents came to visit with you.
They are waiting inside the purple room.”
Words stay with me forever
A lot were careless with what they say
They made me feel I don't know my way
But I was once someone better
I know once my pieces are back together
I'll someday prove them all wrong
I know at least that I am strong
Everything they ever said, doesn't matter
As for my dearest and truthful lover,
I know he is just pointing out things,
He is not to blame for my inner sufferings,
He is with me even at my lowest until it is over
I feel he's carrying me, head on his shoulder,
I can always take it easy when he's with me,
He shows me how I can just simply be,
My soul is so tired, but I see this love is forever.