Long Sanatorium Poems
Long Sanatorium Poems. Below are the most popular long Sanatorium by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sanatorium poems by poem length and keyword.
Sylvan surroundings of a Sanatorium
With cold wind biting the boulevard...
In pallid rays of winter sun, I recuperated.
"Hey, I am your new nurse"...
A light blue scarf came in a tint of white.
Wow!, Wasn't she my Carolina?..
Lost ten years ago in the valley of time and distance..
I knew the honey-sweet voice.
But she never knew I loved her so much.
She chafed my feet in her anodyne touch.
Memories warmed my cold winter night.
'You'll have a hot cup of cider, alright?..
Red apples bubbled in simmering condiments.
Cinnamon, nutmegs and Cloves.
As I sipped Cider with Carolina, my sugar level arose.
A red fire was burning the frost of winter.
A crisp tangy smell of my pureed semi-tart love.
The maple syrup with a sugary crust...
My sweetheart says," Show me where it hurts".
Dated 25th November, 2018
Submitted to the Cool Writes and Imagination Contest
Placed 10th
Sponsor Kim Rodrigues
Also placed First in Brian Strand ' s contest
Spring Morning
today, waking up, it was warmer, the winter
had been cold at times, freezing electric heating
is not for those with a slim wallet
Today, we will write pleasant poetry
not like the boy at the edge of his bed, his feet
not long enough to reach the floor, crying
for yet again losing his home because his mother
has tuberculosis, has to go to a sanatorium
his has to go living among strangers, he has to
be nice to and not be boisterous
Yes, pleasant thoughts, not letting bitterness seep
into this day with its mild breeze and clear light
thinking of the dog he had walking in the woods
Heck, the dog died, that was sad, so let us think
of something else, buying red wine and cheese
Getting pissed and playing music too loudly is not funny
when you are the only one in the room
Two things on offer to gladding the day go for
a walk or sit on the terrace soaking up the sunlight
tell jokes about my life at sea, forgetting long
nights, somewhere on the Pacific Ocean
So, let us embrace old grudges and enjoy life
of not laughing, we know a giggle is short-lived
thermometer cold to the touch
absent of heat, patron
walks behind the taker
mirror image, the wall
the floors,
nothing at all
teeth chatter at base of my neck,
“You see nothing but death!”
goosebumps of fear,
I say nothing,
nothing at all
laughter forests my space
i dare not look
scared, confused
ice steam escapes
hungry lips
i hear the click of polished heels
upon the deck
drifting away
i want to warn the crew
but i can’t move
transfixed
ears alight with
the flight of frenetic wings
and screams
i need to run
but it’s over
a cape draped across
my shoulders
“Ah, you’ve waited…”
turns me around
eyes bold
red lips
long black hair
“I’ll let you live.
Will you dare
to tell…”
As if it never happened,
nothing at all
the vampire vanishes
but his eyes light
the window at night
to taunt
when they ask me what i know
my answer is
nothing at all
the sanatorium dressed for Halloween
pumpkins blink, flare
i see eyes everywhere
11/19/2020
True story ;)
The Inn
Many years ago an uncle of mine
told a story what happened at a small hotel
near the sanatorium, the guest had been visiting loved ones.
The evening meal consisted of meat cakes in gravy with
stewed cabbage an boiled potatoes, Norway is not
famed for French cuisine, but they ate well.
In the end, there was only one meat cake left
and the landlady urged the guests to eat all,
no one wanted to so she switched off the light.
For a moment a stunned silence, then a high pitched
scream alarmed she switched on the light
a man sat there with five forks stuck in his hands.
On reflection, the story has a tinge of sadism,
and I cannot vouchsafe if the story is true.
Another Brick in the Wall
I went to St Peters School in Cambridge
The first time I ever heard Pink Floyd
Was at my friends house during lunch break
His name was Brendan
And was kicked out of school for being disruptive
Because he used to continually question teachers
He was a member of Mensa and had an IQ of 127 at age 16
During lunch break we used to go to his house and hangout
The only possession he had was a record player
And a set of Pink Floyd records
We were so obsessed with them
We even went to see Syd Barret who was institutionalizes
In a sanatorium in Cambridge
We loved the album the Wall
And one thing I learnt later was that
Roger Waters Mum was a teacher
Which when you hear the lyrics
Hey teacher leave those kids alone
Made me realize
Never judge a book by its cover
Don't just take words on face value
Look to understand the context
All in all we are all just another brick in the wall
If we simply listen to a wall
And never wonder how it was built
This poem was written by the human poet Dave Crandall (unafraid to admit it).
"If AI can copy humans, it's only fair that humans copy AI" ~ the poet
My name is Captain Rupert Von Schnell,
and I'm not entirely well.
I'm feeling the moon's pull,
and I ate a caterpillar, whole.
My conscience is effectively nil.
My nurse manages me with a pole.
I'm a spring-loaded contraption and coil,
a pot that's ready to boil.
I'm long past over the hill,
in this sanatorium where I dwell.
Oops, I just ran out of time,
You must insert one more dime.
My name is Colonel Von Schell,
my brother was drowned in a well,
The moon currently lacks the will,
and after it rose up, it fell.
A caterpillar's more elevated than a mole,
and I follow my nurse with my pole,
She always gives me a big thrill,
in this sanitorium, patterned from Hell.
Oops, I'm temporarily out of order.
Can you please insert a quarter.
My name is General Von Schnell.
I'm a robot that's made very well.
In craters, the moon is quite full,
and a caterpillar is trumped by a troll.
I got loaded up to each gill,
and my nurse said she's on the pill,
but as I was chasing her tail,
my heart did suddenly fail,
and this bot you've heard all the while,
made up in the General's style,
is worth only five cents,
and refunds, won't dispense.
a short memory
There were and still are two airports on the flatland
outside of our town, therefore many German soldiers
where stationed here.
Since roads, and bridges had to be built and maintained
there was good employment for everyone and the payment
was good, but not much to spend the money on
a German military band playing loudly in the park, a cinema showing heroic soldiers saving cats
when not killing Russians, a couple of cafes selling what was called coffee, but made of roasted peas
It was left to people, to go to meeting at Christian sects and that was OK by the Norwegian Nazis who were the moral police at the time
Young Nazis joined a battalion called “Vikings” sent to fight the communist in Russia where most of them perished, those who made it back home, faced long
jail terms for treason.
After the war there was a great upsurge of people joining the communists, after all, the Russians had freed
northern Norway of the enemy, Russia bought our fish
and Soviet “workers” came, and told of how wonderful, the life of ordinary people was
my mother, a well-read woman, small of stature, but vociferous about her new faith organized, with her brother, town hall meetings, until illness struck, and she
was sent to a sanatorium up the mountain, the war had
taken its toll
she, when returning, was still a communist till Russia
invaded Hungary
in our working-class community, my mother cut an odd figure, had a lashing tongue
did not tolerate fools, and lesser people feared her but we who loved her could not scare us
we knew she had a soft heart
A day spring day 1952
It was a day in April, the boy sat by the milk ramp waited for the man, who drove from farm-to-farm, collecting milk for the Dairy in local town There was only one type of milk he knew of it was full fat and tasted smooth and creamy He, became aware of how beautiful the landscape like seeing the nature for the first time and as it tuned out it was also for the last time, his mother was back from the sanatorium He had to go to her he got a job delivering gods on his bike and never returned to the farm, but the beauty of that day has stayed with as a time of glory when the world was unspoiled
To lost friends
I have opened the window and inhale the summer
Some of the cottages I see, made of stone and lime are empty, their owners have gone home to their birthplace, where they died waiting for surgery, elderly they died of heart problems and of the dreaded cancer.
Empty houses are a sad sight, bought by those dreaming
of a peaceful retirement, spending time repairing their
homes and drinking red wine at sunset
When illness struck and old age beckoned, they went back where their heart belonged, the pub and the betting shop
what do I know, my home is where I live at the time,
but I do remember a childhood of poverty and need
and child labor.
I'm no longer sure if my youth was a dream or something I have read in books, I sometimes think I have spent too much time reading, or I didn't care about the past of sorrow.
I was in love once, but when rejected I nearly jumped
into the waterfall, but the water was too cold which
tells me my intention was not that profound
Year when abused by an orphanage while waiting for
my mother to come home from the sanatorium
I dreamily think of snow falling gently to go for a walk on overgrown tracks
We faeries were a twitter for our houses were under attack in the crags.
Giant hunters had been capturing them, shoving them into bags.
Heard scared faeries screaming for help as they were carted off sore.
Mushrooms, toadstools, morels and truffles were not safe anymore.
Latest house taken was house of Faerie McFriggle Feister Forlorning.
Frankly we did not know the old bat was gone until six in the morning.
What do they do with our faerie dwellings? We asked each other.
Let us not think about it, cautioned Rip, my honorary faerie brother.
At noon Faerie McFriggle Feister Forlorning returned hot and mad.
They are cannibals! She said. We surrounded her, feeling glad.
Fried up my kitchen in a giant skillet, my living room and bedroom too.
Then they gobbled it all up, those giants, and I am not lying to you!
They ate your HOUSE! We faeries could not believe this story bold.
Some snickered behind her back for she is certainly senile and old.
I saw one cram my entire legacy into his giant ugly gulping mouth!
We committed her to a sanatorium past the meadow to the south.