Long Injured Poems
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This is about me, so completely unique, and yet so much the same.
No that's not me, that's the beloved youngest member of our family , Brix!!!
To name four things about me:
NOW: I am slow and slightly dim-witted.
THEN: I was fast thinking, a workaholic with a high IQ
NOW: I am plain with little sense of fashion
THEN:I was plain with little sense of fashion
NOW: I can rhyme stories quite well - That doesn't make me a good poet.
THEN: I wasn't much of a poet.
NOW: I am not much of a gardener.
THEN: I wasn't much of a gardener.
I have seen all I care to see. I don't have a bucket list. OH hold on, I changed my mind on that one - I care to see world peace.
I am a lover of poetry. Particularly Aussie poetry and I must count Terry Ireland's poetry in that, even though he is a Pommie.
I am a lover of genuine people. All sorts.
I love our adorable 10 year old Bullmastiff.
Of course I love my family, and one or two super good friends. ( but they are included in "genuine people').
Three feelings- Hot - cold - pain
I fear anyone I know being ill or injured.
Born and bred in paradise. ( Sydney Australia).
Last name . Hmmmmmmm that's a hard one. I will leave this one blank.
( I am sure most of you know it anyway).
I know there is a place for me in this world, as I am needed.
The guy I have shacked up with for the last 52 years conceded,
That I'm useful at times and that without me he would be lost .
He looked at hiring, a cook and a maid - it wasn't worth the cost.
The day my mind folded over the highway.
in sunny Florida citrus surrounded me
the breeze was just right as oranges danced.
with lemons scents the sun dazed my sight
as the ground rose up to greet the vehicle
panic arose first responders pronounced me.
Doa, I thought this was a rapid heart rate.
not knowing it meant I was nonresponsive.
gravely I opened my eyes 30 minutes later.
to a pinkish beige sticky substance splattered
across the dashboard and window vainly
I began fixing my face realizing this fleshy.
sticky glue came from underneath my eye.
in which my eye was hanging by now desperate?
so happy to be alive I was flighted out while.
I was being mended by Jesus finally slipped.
into a coma to wakened on the third day unable
to tie my shoe because I was three years old again.
I could only recognize. primary colors like red,
blue green, yellow, purple hurt my brain.
I no longer could hold a fork hitting my cheek with
the fork every time tried to eat; I cried when I should.
be laughing I also laughed when I should be crying.
my young children became my parents teaching.
me to tie my shoes holding my hand across the street.
I wasn't fond of this new brain injured girl I'd become.
who was she? what did she want looking back at me?
in the mirror searching for herself searching for me
the lady I was right before the impact my hands.
are sweating panic attacks created a sense of loss.
doctors' insurance companies arrived sign here dear.
here and initial here my mind hurt I forgot how to pee.
traumatic headaches aroused my temporal lobe.
a sinking feeling allowed me to feel pain severe pain.
my balance was way off I stood with a lean vertigo.
as if I was always standing on a ledge or a cliff.
when I was standing right at my front door.
lifelong therapy medication writing continuously.
to keep. my brain working in use dreading dementia.
or possibly Alzheimer lot's wires connected to my head.
I'm shaking full of fret my life has so much meaning.
every day with traumatic brain injury a beautiful find
is indeed the first day of the injury a coping mind?
You're as mean as a Grizzly Bear and you think that I'll marry you.
Get that notion out of your head because it's something I won't do.
You're so mean and vicious that you actually broke your own daughter's arm.
You injured her when you were supposed to protect her from coming to harm.
You actually believe that you and I will be man and wife.
I loathe you and I sure as hell don't want you in my life.
When you were only seventeen, you were arrested for aggravated assault.
You've spent over a decade in jail for your crimes and it's entirely your fault.
Getting your daughter put in a foster home is what I'm going to do.
Loving you would be like loving a rattlesnake and I'll never marry you.
(This is a fictional poem)
Unsolicited feedback
across rock of ages woke
beguiling ghostly busty spectre
courtesy Marie-Antoinette,
(i.e. bride of France's arty choke
King Louis XVI) bespoke
let him eat cake, and (sic)
send back the bloody bloke,
aye suddenly begot idea rye
Jack Corner of zee desk
didst impale and provoke
moderately painful injury
right side rib cage
analogous to intriguing
unfortunate circumstance
mysterious secret shrouded
as dagger and cloak
(think Alfred E. Neuman,
viz MAD Magazine), yes no joke
lovely bones of me body electric,
(particularly right side rib cage)
severely traumatized, nailed, injured...
crucified oft told umteen times,
yet omitting key mirrors and smoke,
significant Dorian Gray parallel,
when former antique,
viz secrétaire looking glass reflection,
spider hairline fractures radiated
resembled bay of pigs in a poke
ham handedly oinked,
quaked, shattered... broke
into bajillion pieces
deafening, exploding,
glowering thunder stroke
jagged shrapnel size shards
unleashed cosmic force
lacerated, gnashed, beribboned...
impeaching flesh with
one engulfed masterstroke,
no rhyme nor reason aiming to choke
off promising poet (ha) of corpse
resembling scrambled egg yolk
posthumous fame besmoke
salvaged mine besmirched reputation
courtesy humble cartoon character
bugs bunny and kinfolk spoke
daffy fully eulogizing humor did evoke.
50 Words for Poe: Vide Cor Meum
Look into my heart
see it’s sinew ripped
in the hole daisies grow
and death renews
forget-me-nots
unfurling crushed blue
from their
black soiled
deep dead
purple sleep
Vide Core Meum
slowly burns
the earth of me
forests roar
barefoot walks
through broken glass
then, nine inch nails,
the vanity fast retreats
where Raven wings
fan the flames
blue ribbons
veins complete
cor
caws
from it's bleeding
Poe-kept beak
this is where
the bushfire starts
Vide Core Meum
the Monster
Lillith is awake
Singing to her
Morning Star
The story not yet complete
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/SP9IrCCMUUw
Vide Cor Meum/Zimmer
“Every tree in the forest has a story to tell. Some of them were burnt but they endured the fire and got revived; some of them were cut, their barks injured, some people pick up their leaves to make medicines for their sicknesses, birds used their leaves to make their nests, etc."
https://youtu.be/pev0dINRaok
The Great Below/Reznor
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morning_Star
The caring bridge was very unexpected
why I'd survived a horrific traumatic
brain injury an yet my mind was desperate
to learn everything all over I was so
excited when I noticed my flaws while
holding a fork at my favorite restaurant
I forgot how to hold a fork I was so
embarrassed finally I got it what an
achievement I hoped no one saw
as I lifted the mashed potatoes to
enter my mouth to my surprise I
kelp missing my mouth hitting my
cheek my eyes were wide I knew
everyone knows my flaw now my
cheek covered in mash potatoes
it was in that moment I knew I had
to reach out find my peers people
like me broken injured filled with
faith and there it was a bridge
connecting family of all ages
races cultures traumatic brain
injury groups many spoke of
loved ones still in a coma hopeful
that they would spring forward
traumatic brain injury changes
you forever I never thought I would
forget to tie my shoe now my
beautiful children whom I taught
to tie thier shoes was now teaching
me take the loop around ma you
got it good job what color is this
ma it was purple it hurt my brain
I could only recognize yellow red
blue green primary colors nothing
as fancy as teal my favorite or
maroon these colors sent my
emotions soaring and it frightened
me that's okay ma we can try again
tomorrow brain injury affects the
entire family I was so happy to be
apart of the Caring Bridge family
hearing others speak out about
tragedy survivors faith courage
relearning excepting fighting
to keep my brain alive i wrote
uncontrollably constantly at
least ten poems a day maybe
yes my grammer was off missed
spelled words poems broken
sentences i would cry I realized
I was three years old pouting
sobbing coping with pain when
I reached out it was so amazing
a bridge of compassion kindness
finally that caring bridge connected
across America a caring bridge
of hands reaching out giving
supporting sharing caring amazing
generating lot's of hugs with simple
kind words completeness feeling safe
unafraid unashamed to be broken learing
to smile again laugh at your flaws and
get right back up embracing comfort
and joy that built this unstoppable
caring bridge connecting healing
hearts and minds by just caring
Written by Mrs Yolanda Nicholsen
the demons are on the hunt
they lurk in the shadows
these days without sun
dark
dark
these days
the demons take pleasure
from the victims pain
a cycle never ending
round
and
round
it goes
eyes soulless
ice drips inside veins
as the hammer falls
time
and
time
again
in packs the soulless hunt
their eyes aflame
when prey lay
hurt
injured
easy
pickings
a bloodlust
trying to be quenched
but it`s a thirst
that can`t be satisfied
try
as
they
might
many scars show
and many are invisible
but most wounds
never heal
in an
angst- saturated
moment i find you there in
my travel bag, injured by the neglect of
a poorly screwed-on sparkling water bottle cap:
my beloved poetry notebook of fifteen years. You are
now one-third soaked and stained at the top. I shudder to
think of throwing you away or burying you in the cemetery of
old college diaries and love letters. You were my faithful collector of
anxiety and pleasure, cleverness and drought, loneliness and victory;
oftentimes tucked away for months at a time as creative energies were
diverted to other outlets. Like a loyal dog whose master travels away, you
never gave up on me. How many times the tears stained your inky pages
long before I even knew that sparkling water was a thing! When friends
moved away, or betrayed me (how i wished THEY would move away), when loved ones died too young, or old ones lived too long (how they wished THEY could die instead), when my son was slaying dragons and my daughter was breaking up with an inattentive boyfriend; when my wife struggled with her sisters, or when I agonized through physical therapy or cancer surgery, you were patiently there for me. Even as my joints and stitches eventually healed, you continue to be my invaluable companion, both for my history you contain to the left, and for the blank, hope-filled pages to the right. Like me, you are aging, stained, lumpy, scarred, but two-thirds useful as i write under the stain.
///NOTE: the shape above roughly mirrors the unstained portion of my notebook, which I will continue to use in its deformed and lumpy new state!
Also, no poems were harmed in the making of this poem. I write in pencil, so the water didn't render any previous pages unreadable, thankfully!///
Wrathful nature roars
Death harvests innocent souls
Zeus' thunderbolt strikes!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
12 July 2019
* Seven people were killed and more than one 100 were injured after 130 km/h gale-force winds, rain and hailstorm struck northern Greece late on Wednesday, uprooting trees, lifting cars and collapsing roofs. The extreme phenomenon lasted just over twenty minutes. The previous day the temperature was in the upper thirties Celsius! Similar phenomena took place in Italy and Spain among other countries.
** IT IS INTERESTING FOR SOMEONE TO READ MY POEM : HEINOUS CRIMES "
WHICH I WROTE A FEW DAYS ?G?!
Enlightenment and intellectual awareness
are yours if you see eyes in a dream.
If you dream something is in your eye,
it means you have an enemy, often pretty mean.
If you dream you have one eye, it might mean
you are opinionated, and find others fact lean.
Dreaming that your eyes are crossed
suggests that your facts might be a bit
mixed up, not keen.
If you dream your eyes are injured,
the truth is what you are trying to
keep unseen.
If you never dream of eyes,
This poem is not for you, So please disregard.
Poem: May 10, 2018