Long Paralytic Poems
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Keep illumined,
Under the bright 8 o'clock
Skies of the Northwest.
Shouts of "lemonade!"
Are peppered with music from the Abbey
Behind the house I now call my home.
This poem moves
With the stretched-out days
Of brisk summer evenings
With the passions that once pressed
Against me with the "what's next?" sprint
Alongside motoring buses.
Though these days I stop.
And wait for it.
Still and bent back and looking out
Onto my new street named, "Motor Place."
The action outside of me now:
Like a humming tuning fork
All about my paralytic mind.
I let go. Months ago.
And so it went.
I sit now like a lighthouse might.
Shining without method,
Thoughtless radiation.
Paralysis in the body makes the mind dead as well.
Doesn't existence drag, like an engine-less machine?
Though a hundred stewards assist, isn't life more than hell?
bed, like servants who never heed, remains deadly serene.
Tension and depression rise like a monsoon thunderbolt.
They stay on, like seasons, with alterations in tempers.
Anger, anxiety, and uncertainty tunnel-vault
Helplessness and hopelessness blaze like unending embers.
These found favour in the eyes of the one who came for them.
Just a look, a smile, a gentle touch, and a word of peace
In his person, he resembled the world's most precious gem.
In his presence, each one found their eternal troubles cease.
Four carried him, as though he were dead, when they came to him.
Carrying their cots, they walked, singing a grace-filled hymn.
Christ’s new ministry was so interrupted
By Satan the Prince of the World
The fallen anointed demon in jewels
Trying to take charge in a whirl
“What is this teaching?” The amazed crowd asked,
“Isn’t this one the carpenter’s son?”
Unsettling as it was, he went on his way
Departing on foot for Capernaum;
Jesus made house calls in homes of the ill
While engaging Himself in their lives;
He rebuked the fever not the person
Determined with compassion he strived
Take the boat farther from land, Jesus called,
Throw your net into the deep water;
His call to Peter is His call to us—
Now you will catch men, do not fear;
You can make me clean, the leper believed.
Friend your sins are forgiven was echoed
As Jesus saw faith coming through the roof
To the paralytic, Take up … go…
Earthly bodies are mortal – life’s handbreadths—
Our lifetime is nothing in His sight;
Christ ignored neither the urgent need nor
The ultimate goal; the latter being right;
Satan is everywhere, e’en the wheat fields
On the Sabbath day of lawful rest—
The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath,
Withered hand restored and stretched out – Blessed!
Jesus is the authority and the LORD!
We are His tools to use in world’s strife,
Not needing praise and free from prideful hurt
We find rest in Him, the Way and Life
Luke 5:4, 10;
Luke 5:20, 24--
Sara played basketball in squad ParalympicsGB,
At Euros, at Worlds and at Commonwealth Games,
In Manchester and in Melbourne, and had TT victory,
At the Paralympics in London with her team-mate.
Her boyfriend introduced her to table tennis nifty,
And she’s a paralytic, from a virus at the age of 15,
“Meeting people in the same situation as [myself]
was a real eye-opener…it opened up my life again.“
In 2013 Sara and Jane Campbell took the gold,
In the team event class 1-3 in Bayreuth, Germany,
And then she won bronze for herself in the singles,
To ride right onto 2 bronzes in Slovenia, Slovakia.
Illness and surgery were then her disappointing lot,
But she returned in the Lignano Master Open 2016,
To win a fine silver for the team. In Rio, the quarters,
For both singles and team matches. Born 12/04/1990.
Laws of Physics and Humanity #1 First Law (Inertia) Sponsor Dilly Dally 1-14-25 Objects at rest stay at res unless acted upon by an outside force.
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Humanity
The gravity of inertia,
Jealous force,
Weighs down the heart
Paralyzed in fools' gold -
Grounded in resistant exhaustion
With flightless wings.
The weight of pressure
On dreams
Discourages footsteps
From optimism –
Ambitions petrified,
Abandoned in the grip
Of paralytic obsession,
Vacillates in stares
At the blank canvass of comatose,
Numb with indifference
To change.
Hope flees
Unable to step right or left,
North or south,
Up or down,
Chained in detachment
By relentless conflict,
With universal ambivalence.
Yet,
Bound by these stoic bonds
The soul still dreams,
Reaches to dazed stars
Pointing north,
Waiting release by the humanity
Of the Prime Mover
In perpetual motion.
When some men of faith brought a paralytic to be healed,
Opening the roof when they placed his bed before Jesus
When the forgiving grace of the almighty was revealed
The fault-finders placed before him, their malicious thesis
Could eyes filled with coal dust find an unknown way easily?
The dusk of ignorance blocked them from recognizing him.
Aren't these, more than the one who's healed, paralyzed mentally?
Hope of healing them, like straightening a dog's tail, seemed grim.
The healed, bloomed with joy, like a sunflower before the sun.
Pessimism paralyses physique and psyche painfully.
Is, with no flow of fresh streams of optimism, laurels won?
The Pharisees, like desert daisies, dried disdainfully.
When praises of the people of faith, like incense, ascended
The Kingdom of God, like a sublime universe, descended
FLUNG
against the drab ashen phonon sky
WEIGHTED
with the ghostly iron clad jaws
of bitter winter's grip
BITING
the feather-flared Doves
gravid with
FATIGUE
in the ill-laden onerous air
The rough coated dog
with ice-tipped ears
COLLAPSED
in a ravine of surrender
to the corridor of street gutters
SEEKING
shelter from the toilsome icy cold, he
WALLOWS
as a fugitive of neglect
of his chosen demise
In this empire city
a sovereign shrine to humankind
VESPERS
of frozen conflict
RISE UP
from its bowels like sweat
LEECHING
from otherworldly gargoyles
stone watchmen
SEALED
with mortar
high atop the spires that define
FORTUNE
at its utmost cost
Beneath these voiceless
STEEPLES
of holy crosses
PLAGUED
with frozen muted light
DRIFTING
through histories
STRIFE
for equality
now a mere picture of its
FAILURE
Heavily cloaked faceless people
TRUDGED
like blind phantom transients
SLOWLY
moving forward
through half-stacked drifts of dirty snow
as they
VEERED
further away from discontent
steadfast in the apathy
The grimy conspicUous yellow taxi
BEDRAGGLED
on its mucky, viscous boulevard
STRAINED
and bellowed
as a labored oxen
TRANSPORTING
the few to a suitable destination while
DESPERATE
surreal sirens
from a distant byway were
BLARING
like a young animal caught in a trap
ECHOED
and purged from the
back alley resort of homeless, despondent souls
HIDING
from the winter
LAYING
like pale-blue corpses
NUMBING
their pain with cheap wine
INTERRED
in their obscure tombs
of battered garbage bins
SHELTERING
their helplessness in this
SQUALOR
of ignorance and sadness
As i stood in the moment
DISPLACED
in this cold and wounded reality
my icebound paralytic soul
SHUDDERED
with hurt
WAITING
for the sun
Rewrite from "A Cold Day"
6-14-20
Brian's select H, any form, any theme
sponsored by Brian Strand
15 years bedridden, paralyzed from down,
met her school friend in a WhatsApp group.
Her friend couldn't bear her plight, gave her a book -
The Power of your subconscious mind written by Joseph Murphy
It had stories of how many had got cured
by unleashing the power of subconscious mind
She did not believe.
"All lies it is not possible", she said
"Follow what it says for my sake.
It will not harm you if you try"
She did as the book told,
imagined she was up and running,
doing all her chores, enjoying.
Before she dozed off to sleep,
immediately after getting up
and throughout the day with conviction.
She imagined again and again
as if convincing the mind she was okay.
One day bell rang aloud,
her parents shouted from out,
"We forgot to take the key with us"
Suddenly fear gripped her,
she would now die a lonely death!
At that moment she got up,
walked toward the door and opened it.
She was glad to see her parents inside.
Her parents looked at her in amazement,
their joy was clearly evident.
Suddenly she realized she was cured!
Her exhilaration knew no bounds
She picked up the phone, called her friend
Told her all that happened, thanked her.
Her friend was happy for her.
After all that is what friends are for!
02.06.2021
Contest Name : He Gave Her A Book
Sponsor : Mystic Rose Rose
Note - The book mentioned above has real stories of how blind, paralytic and many other sick were cured by power of mind. It teaches how to harness the power of subconscious mind through positive affirmations. What you think happens. It is worth reading.
Auf Wiedersehn
Well here at last it's party time,in shorts and dirndl dress.
Excitedly we travelled to the fest, a night of pleasure lay ahead.
We knew from past experience, don't quaff, just savour beers.
Imbibing Munichs drinks too fast, could mar the atmosphere.
Laughter brings bonhomie, as old and new friends speak.
Let's raise our beer steins in a toast.for now the show begins.
People waving, singing loudly, while rocking to the beat.
And all around the milling crowds, now dancing in the streets.
Revelry with devilry, as young boys whistle, girls in short skirts coyly blushing.
Talking heads surround our table, animated arms translating.
Yesterday a bunch of strangers, today as friends sharing together.
Listen to the sound of lilting voices, melodies from different tongues.
Inviting us each night to join them, mixing beers and singing songs.
Kindred spirits everyone, together dancing on the benches.
Enjoying each and every moment, with an ice cold stein of beer.
Trying tasty tendeloin of pork, delicious with sweet mustard crust.
Ham wrapped-figs and hazelnuts, with drinks of cool spring bottled water.
Each time the band strikes up-Ein Prosit, all and sundry stands to toast.
Rebel rousing, crowds carousing, dancers dirndl skirts are swirling.
Entertaining energetic, party poopers paralytic.
Stomping feet and clapping hands, embarrassing each waitress serving beer.
No one even seems to care,they carry on with gay abandon.
Overacting then distracting, when outside and breathe fresh air.
Time to eat potato pancakes,refreshed by water keeping sober.
Once more, let's party, here we go, prancing to an oom-pah band.
Musicians wearing lederhosen, people stomping feet and slapping thighs.
Oktober Fest in frenzied celebration, cavorting couples holding hands.
Running wildly round each table, urging all to take the floor.
Rejuvenated, rock and rollers, overcoming mixed emotions.
Once more before auf wiedersehn, let's dance the night away, and
We will party like there's no tomorrow.
11 / 5 / 2016.
Written: May 25, 2024
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hummingbirds with chartreuse throats
scared to fly off the ground
favored tightrope walking
where the sky and ocean collide
she considered attempting flight
another time a circus visited town
another area where she may hide
hidden under a fake scowl
nestled comfortably away
from the mother bird's picks
a fledgling with propensity
with paralytic rhinitis
without plucking feathers
to reveal a fractured limb
or scars carved into wings
stitched together
a dinky bird soon gasped for air
hurriedly touched line
and took on a Goliath.
leep
*
*
*
to join her friend.
weird and delicate.
misfits