Long Recovery from... Poems
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I stand back and watch the river
It's flowing so fast
It's been like this day and night
With no end in sight
I already lost my home
And know I have so many doubts
I lost my dog
And right now my mind is in a fog
I lost my only transportation
Now I see my car going down the river to a new location
I lost my beautiful wife
My future is not so bright
I lost so much all at once
And I know to get back on my feet it will take months
I don't care anymore my life was very good
I thought my house would have withstood it all
I have nothing left
I'm so stress
The only thing left is my gun
And I'm not going to run
My life is completely done
He tells me he wants me in his life
And he tells me he wants me to be his wife
He tells me of a house that I didn’t know exist
And he tells me of something he’s been searching for --- a wish
He tells me rarely that he loves me
He tells me he lives by the Atlantic Sea
He wants to sing again, he says
But seems so lost in his own ways
He tells me all the things I want to hear
He tells me he can banish my one fear
He’s completely across the United States
But yet he tells me he expects me to wait
He can’t make up his mind on what he wants to do
Everything in New Jersey to him also is new
His kisses when he gives them melts my heart
He tells me he doesn’t want us to be apart
He makes these plans that I just don’t see
He’s initiated before about being on one knee
But I feel like he avoids me after all that he tells
I feel like I’m drowning in thousands of wells
He wants me to leave my family and move on
But I feel like he doesn’t think I can be strong
He’s been there before to kiss away my tears
I can see him in all directions of all mirrors
Silently sitting my tears constantly fall
But for him I hold my head up and stand tall
Any girl would be proud she’s in his life
Any girl would be happy to call her his wife
But questions float through everyday
But at the rate we’re going, there’s no way
What I’d sacrifice to be in his arms
My love for him couldn’t fill up a million farms
But will he come through and claim me as his own?
Or is he just borrowing me because he’s alone?
Bubba has the flu
I do not know what to do
Since Bubba has the flu
I can not see in front of me
I can not see behind me and Bubba still has the flu
And I do not know what to do
Should I call Sherlock to find out what happen to make Bubba to have the flu
He would know what to do about Bubba having the flu
Sherlock sure did know what to do about having the flu
He gave me a Watson bulb to screw into the situation '
And there was no more reason to burn the wood since we had this position
Once in the socket the bright light look like a rocket
And now I have got it
I can now see in front of me
I can now see behind me
But as for Bubba, he still has the flu
And I still do not know what to do.
I'll never forget the date, the nineteenth of November
It's etched firmly in my mind, and I'll always remember
It was the day that I had my spinal decompression surgery
And hopefully it would put an end to over a year of misery.
I was struggling to walk, and it was depressing for me
And it was especially frustrating for all my close family
I couldn't go cycling or for walks in the countryside
I just wanted to stay at home and from the world hide.
My journey started with physio, but exercise caused me pain
And I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever be the same again
My MRI scan showed trapped nerves at the base of my spine
I opted for surgery and the surgeon reassured me I'd be fine.
I arrived at the hospital and was under the care of a surgeon
A renowned Consultant Spinal Neurosurgeon, Mr Faizul Hassan
They put surgical socks on me, along with a hospital gown
Then a porter arrived at nine o'clock to take me down.
They put a mask on my face and then I went to sleep
And it was a quarter to one when I was woken by a beep
A nurse then asked me if I wanted a drink of water
And I thought I'm having an op, maybe I'll have it later.
But I'd had my operation, and I didn't feel any leg or back pain
I was so relieved I'd had it done and I could live normally again
The porter took me back to ward one and the nurses were there
It is their kindness I'll never forget and their excellent care.
And all the surgeons too who performed my operation
They've given me my life back; for them I'm full of admiration
And all the porters, admin staff and auxiliary nurses too
They all play a vital part in making dreams come true.
I'm recovering at home now and post op I've got slight pain
I'm so glad to have had it done; I have plenty to gain
My three daughters and my wife are now looking after me
And I consider myself lucky to have such a caring family.
In a fortnight I've got to have staples removed from my back
Then my back won't feel so stiff, and I'll soon be back on track
And I've got to take it easy for a few months and watch what I do
No heavy lifting of any kind and in six weeks return for a review.
Written on the 23rd November 2023
Dedicated to all the staff at the Royal Orthopaedic Hospital in Birmingham. UK.
Breathe in, Breathe out.
Breathe in, Breathe out.
Help Me! I can't breathe!
I can't catch my breath! I'm gonna die!
Luckily a friend close by,
gently caught my arm and said:
Calm Down! Calm Down! You're panicking!
It's not the in, It's the out!
You're brimming breathless!
You've forgotten to breathe out,
desperately clutching on, to what you have.
You're holding on, too scared to let it go.
Your lungs are topped up, chock-a-block full!
You've gotta let it out, let it go, to begin again.
The tides gotta run out before the tide comes in.
Be brave my friend and exhale, exhale,
exhale, again, vacate the void, feel it fully empty.
Let it go, Let it go, Let it go.
Breathe Out! Breathe in.
Breathe Out! Breathe in.
The greatest deception men suffer is from their own opinions. By Leonardo da Vinci.
In a chasm of hate, shards descend,
Crystallized thoughts; their paths now bend.
Splintered and cracked in a furious fall,
Merging, dreary roads white lines extend.
Evil spirits spew out an obnoxious bawl.
Minds split, mixed with a malignant appall.
The emancipator, a beacon of brightness,
His vicious grin tightens, he is eager to crawl.
The edge of a hewn sword is uprightness.
Might is evoked by the blade's fold tightness.
When challenged, demons flinch in fear.
The sturdiness of iron arms is their politeness.
A sword, from its sheath to its gilt hilt, appears.
A valuable emblem that shines luculent clear
Advancing onward, atop an equestrian beast,
Angels sing with lyres, trusting God's sheer
Fear hunts out the wicked, trembling at least.
As the lark sings, fetch a dull cloud from the east.
The emancipator, craving God's healing, is brave.
All day long, one's life is a sumptuous feast.
In this chasm of hate, shards break the wave.
Crystallized beliefs: all paths lead to the grave
But whilst their entirety, they are on display.
Defying the darkness, smashing the deprave
The fight betwixt right and awry is still sway
As the emancipator clashes, his goal will fray.
Hope revives with each swing of the sword.
And the devils fled and were spurred away.
1st place contest winner ??
Deep solace lingers on between the pauses
of your lisping words--- a quest for normalcy
amidst the yells never heard by moonless eves,
by cathartic drawls never felt by anyone
except me... holding those mottled palms
I watch the light flickering among
veiled shadows from your eyes...I cry inside.
Though inner peace can be anonymous,
distant from life's torment, I sing our
childhood tunes where despair lays heavy
on needled days:Somehow, it calms
your thoughts, then we grin, laugh if
only for an instance...until winds of an
ailing mind snuff time's flow, while the blood
of tears carries us to space we do not know.
Yet, faith prevails like a whistling serenade
which calls you back to a dream of comfort.
Although this ailment reaches stage 3, we
feel reborn by so many dreams of life's ventures
yet to be done-- the journeys to mountain tops,
the different flavor of late autumnal rain ,
a newborn's tiny frame cradled by your arms...
( remember you wanted two?)
Dearest friend, oh Eena of all seasons, I align
my white energy with you, bold and unyielding--
twogether are are never far off: watch me smile,
allow me to listen, and relish this affirmation:
' Dreams are to be lived. Live! You are never alone.'
Contest of Silent One: Together we are strong
3/21/2018
The sun doesn’t rise in these terrible skies
The world was in ruins once
Some kind of beautiful
Hell sat around us
Just you and me
This was the saddest
The truth could be
It was like yesterday didn’t matter
Only a banjo
A fiddler and untouched strings
Do you remember
It was some kind of beautiful
Lovely was a disastrous sport
And futbol was a feeling
Cigarettes ran from touch
Smoke came as a form of trust
And hope remained a potion of bad luck
Do you remember when hell sat around us
Tomorrow was unthought-of
We were fishing for the blues
Day light in sunny nights
A harvest moon
A picnic with apples
Oranges and tomatoes ripe
A midseason delight
Can you guess who’s home
We were just about human again
"metaphors, cliche's, & no one else"
It Happened Quite Some Time Ago,
this Story I'm about to Tell,
Way Back a Long Time Ago,
When I Lived in the Depths of Hell.
I Drank Potions and Elixirs of Death,
for Life I Had No Care.
I Lived for the Ultimate High,
My Soul Icy Cold and Bare.
There Was No One I Knew to Care.
I Was Aimlessly Drifting Through Life,
and Caring for Nothing at All,
When I Was Stabbed by a Knife.
It Was the Knife of Desperation,
the Loneliness Too Much to Bear.
That Was the Day I Walked out of Hell
and I Fell on My Knees in Prayer.
It All Happened Sometime Back,
My Troubles Blew Away like the Sand.
I Got up off My Knees That Day,
With the Help of a Nail Scarred Hand.
Connie Moore
May 4, 1997
In desperate hearts
Like sunsets glow,
after a hard day is done
Apologies flow
after harsh words have stung
Another day,
and another heart will break
And somehow, he
justifies his mistakes
Sometimes a desperate heart will scheme
and with sharp words, cut down her dreams
But, when he raised his fists to strike
should she stay with him?
For he was raised
beaten in a fitful rage
Now it's her time
to turn the page!
Chorus
And so it goes, the damage is done
to desperate hearts
to desperate hearts
And so it goes, the pain will stay
in desperate hearts
in desperate hearts
Chorus repeat
Chorus repeat
fade
John Derek Hamilton
September 03,2016