Long Rest home Poems

More than 30 years ago the Supreme Court in the United States ruled that if individuals are mentally ill but not criminally insane they cannot be confined to asylums. They must be allowed to live...

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The skipper had sailed quite a few storms and survived

Strong as a cross hanging over an apocalypse’s altar he

Had weathered all seasons and crossed heaven and hell

Tempted his fate and good fortune at times but...

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By morning, I could feel the first hints of warm air,
Relieved I took my bath and dressed for work.
There was no music in the block of flats,
But in my head rumbled a hundred old time...

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This is about a Christian woman living at a rest home that has no other place to abide without anyone caring and depression.  I used to work as a CNA(Certified Nurse Assistant).

The Final Hour

Oh,...

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I wish I didn't stop to think,
about the man who cherished me.

My childhood so fun and fair,
I remember your cologne drifting in the air.

The days we went to the Space museums,
showing me pictures of your...

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As I awoke to a brand-new day
I asked Him to direct my path
To protect and guide, lest I should fall
And keep me free, from grief and wrath

In haste, I departed on an errand
Forgot - ...

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lying in the stroller waiting for a push
then we go round the mulberry bush
saddling up the rocking horse
getting our jeans all dirty of course!
day one on the bus going to school
Provokingly they may slap me...

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An old man at a rest home, in a pillowed chair
sat turned to a window with a cold and distant stare. 
Now bid by politician to impart his words so wise ,
startled all that day...

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Birthday Party 

The day began to find a place for lunch which was difficult
most roads were closed due to a cycling tournament
We got out of this mess and ended up in the streets where the...

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I was minding my business, taking my time,
Ridin’ Ol’ Bess from the West Miller Mine
When all of a sudden, (weren’t nothing’ I did)
Bess started buckin’ and she hit the skids!

I was pitched off her back...

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When the Parakeet increased his squawking
with the noise box ceaseless talking
far louder than the muted city roar.
Then I pondered that curious poem about the lost Lenore
About that bedeviled man and the raven Nevermore
How I envy...

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Poet:  Ken Jordan
Poem:  Old Folks Home 
Edited by:  Sparkle Jordan 
written:  June /2015 


Good morning 
Mr Wilson,
Sir -

Are you
ready

for
a
bright 
sunny day?

Young man,
today 
is the same 
as
yesterday,

I can't 
remember 
a
bright sunny 
day,

here
In...

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Patience,
Don't be greedy this is a 4 course meal save some of your appetite for desert trust me you will not be disappointed

It's the sweetest and most moist 
of apple pie for you to eat...

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Land o the mists an glens, land o the water o life.
          Land o the heathery hills, land o the mountains tall.
    ...

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God loves the city drunk;
He loves the city whore;
the evil men and women;
the criminal with his gore;
the dog that bites his Master;
the child who cries with ease;
He loves forgotten Grandmas;
and Grandpas hard to please;
the ones...

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              Heck, who am I?
        I fell, taken to hospital.
     ...

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The wresting groung for old homos
Is full tonight
Because we spilled so much of our youth
In endless repeat anonymous encounter
That it was not enough to end the world once
More than a thousand medieval nonyears ago,
That spun...

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Your horse is just a rockin’ chair
And now you feel half dead—
But you have your ol’ memories
Of the prairie in your head.

You drink your Joe by the furnace
And dream of those campfires—
Your saddle a well-worn...

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The squirrels are dashing here and there.
desperately filling winter larders.
They are still crazy for nuts, after all these years.

Autumn spurs the living and is a rest-home for the dying
it brings in new snow from the...

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He lies on his bed in the rest home -
the old man that nurses all there
have given the nickname Old Pickle.
(Of course they've seen beneath his underwear.)

Like greenish blue cheese
bulge the veins of his legs.
By...

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We are climbing the stairs
that lead to your life.

A door tilts open, spilling your image
from the stains on the wall.
Urine musts the heavy air. We see
you now, a leather hull jerking
to the dull frenzy of...

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Dear Mary for many years a roving painter,
sadly now her memory has grown fainter.
Her top echelon family struggled to find,
someone to corral her wandering mind.
After a letter was sent  by best rest home.
Please confine...

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A gathering of elders
from the local rest home
is out for a walk after dusk

on canes and walkers 
admiring roses and lilies 
and a pond of rainbow koi 

except for Alice trailing 
without cane or walker...

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