Long Surgeon Poems
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In a world where beauty's often measured and defined,
A girl at twenty, had dreams intertwined,
She sought about change, a shape to embrace,
But little did she know, it would alter her grace.
Every glance in the mirror, she’d sigh,
She longed for the curves, the world defined.
Then came the implants, a promise of light,
A chance to feel whole, to finally feel right,
But the joy was fleeting, as symptoms arose, Beneath the surface of beautiful flesh, her whole body ached.
Her headaches and pains made life hard to take. Suicide sometimes seemed the easiest escape.
All the strange illnesses that whispered in her ears loved to perform in the shadows of her fears
With a weak immune system and pains so severe shed scream "Let me just die! "to the heavens about but it wasn't her time, she couldn't give up.
She wore her struggles like a cloak made of fear,
Each day a battle, each moment unclear.
Years rolled on, twenty-seven in tow,
With every new ache, her spirit felt low,
Yet deep in her heart, a flicker remained,
A hope for a future, unchained and unfeigned.
She scheduled the surgery, her heart in a twist,
What would she look like? Would she cease to exist?
The implants, her armor, her identity’s thread,
But the thought of release filled her heart with dread.
With courage she stepped into the bright, sterile room,
A leap into freedom, away from the gloom,
As the surgeon worked gently, she felt a release,
A shedding of burdens, a whisper of peace.
And when she emerged, a new dawn in her eyes,
The reflection before her, a beautiful surprise,
No longer defined by the weight she had borne,
She blossomed like flowers, anew she was born.
With each passing day, her health found its way,
The headaches subsided, the aches turned to play,
A vibrant young woman, with laughter and light,
No longer a shadow, she danced into night.
Her journey was long, but the lessons were clear,
True beauty is found when we shed all our fear,
In the mirror she saw not just curves, but her soul,
A radiant spirit, finally whole.
So here’s to the girl who dared to be free,
To embrace her own self, to finally see,
That beauty’s not measured by what’s on the skin,
But the strength of the heart, and the joy found within.
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.
October 7 Relationship to God Bible Meditations Based on John 9-10
Key Verse – John 9:1-3 And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.
LORD GOD, YOU ARE MY BLINDNESS SURGEON
Lord God, You are my blindness Surgeon,
and You manifest to me Your divine vision
Thank You for Your being my Light, anointing me with Your compassion
And also for washing my iniquities’ corruption…
Now, I receive Your heavenly sight’s illumination.
Lord God, You are my blindness Surgeon,
and You show to me Your miracles so great
Thank You for Your being my Creator, subduing existence-debate
And also for forgiving my confessed sins with Your mercy’s rate…
Now, I yield to Your might, with full trust’s weight.
Lord God, You are my blindness Surgeon,
and You reveal to me Your truthfulness
Thank You for Your being my Healer along Your awesome marvelousness
And also for hearing my prayer by Your graciousness…
Now, I abide in Your faithfulness.
Lord God, You are my blindness Surgeon,
and You expose to me Your holy standard
Thank You for Your being my Shepherd, directing to be Your diligent steward
And also for putting me in Your service-vineyard…
Now, I follow You, fleeing always to Your safeguard.
Lord God, You are my blindness Surgeon,
and You guide me to Your safe pasture
Thank You for Your being my life-Giver, bringing me to Your worthy treasure
And also for teaching me to lay myself before You midst earthly pressure…
Now, I feast in Your blessings that eternally assure.
Lord God, You are my blindness Surgeon,
and You accompany me with Your authority
Thank You for Your being my Saviour of supreme sovereignty
And also for protecting me within Your safety…
Now, I do good works to exalt You and Your majesty.
Lord God, You are my blindness Surgeon,
and You keep me in Your care
Thank You for Your being my Defender against the enemies that dare
And also for encompassing me with Your triumphant welfare…
Now, I serve You joyously while Your Gospel I willingly share.
Author's note: This is an epic length poem that will have to be split into parts and will be serialized in successive posts.
Part 2
act three
in the third act delirious
the laws of physics etc.
he coughs his lungs out
in wheezing jets
internal combustion is internal combustion
his bed of wheels begins to roll
first one wheel then the others
cough cough cough
his wheels roll the length of
NEURO WARD 4's corridor
to the NEURO elevator
and its NEURO music
by now familiar to you
as that song in the head
cough cough cough
3 2 1 doors open out
upon the concrete parking lot
out to Lucille the Oldsmobile
they recognize one another
why no one knows
this is an orphan's tale
composed with the licensed use
of Orphan Guild secrets
raised on the back seat
suckled by giant oranges
weaned on foot long hot dogs
at the nation's roadside
Musella my injection!
act four
in the 4th phantom of the opera
the tank hits empty
his lungs flat and black
as a piece of big rig recap
in desperation piles bricks on seat
heaves bricks back onto concrete
salutes au revoir to the mirror's horizon
and rolls onward
propelled by what is equal
what is opposite
according to St. Newton
the law of the motor
what goes in must come out
seriously Lucille rolls
upon the concrete gridway
steering herself autonomously
everything left to chance
we now know any nightmare
propelled by what is equal and opposite
will roll through the divider
and off the bed-road
Musella vacuums up the glass
and sorts out the tubing
our fugitive lays low by his radio
signal up full
awaiting the footsteps
and stethoscope of Tex Amphora
the archaeologist cowboy surgeon
took my case in a bar stool wager
betting on flesh made perfect
the fool the angel
5 minute intermission
they taught me how to act
onstage I mean in stages
strangers said I'd grow out of it
friends said I'm gonna die from it
there comes a time in a youth's youth
when he discovers
that the machinery on the interstate
can play the sound of skidding wheels
on a Steinway
so
a much needed musical interlude then
acto sexto
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
http://tinyurl.com/nhfk6dr
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.site11.com/
The bridge/ Hear that?/ Snap it pop it / Not the one of stone and steel, holding cars and trains aloft/ This bridge hums/ It vibrates/ yellin’, mo’ funk and groove please woven into the boss horns strung with a bassline thick as smoke and Clyde Stubblefield holding down the fat beat/
Acid Jazz snap pop snap de beat/ tradition on one side, diggin’ for the now, for the new/ Jazz, ancient and revered, but dust collecting on the shelf, needed a spark, a jolt, a psychedelic brother a sister like no other/ Acid Jazz, the answer/
A handshake and a high five between jazz straight ahead and a synthesizer’s jazz fusion swing/
A knowing nod to Coltrane remixed into becoming the nu Acid Jazz king/Trane is way dope now to a whole new listening audience/
skillfully crafted club bangin’ acid jazz lick and samples/ the veins of hip-hop, throbbing hard and raw as DJs scratched the beats deeply rooted in the arrangements of funk jazz numerology/
Did deep house feel its pulse, its rhythmic pull/ Broken beat, fractured and funky, did it recognize its kin, polyrhymatics and the turntables… Oh, the turntables sang a different song/ a revolution spun on vinyl, a rebellion built on rhythm, Jazz and Soul/ Rap, HipHop and acid jazz as a Voice for Rebellion and Social Change / DJ Kool Herc, a sonic architect, laying foundations in the park and party basements/ Grandmaster Flash, a surgeon of sound, slicing and dicing the beat/ Afrika Bambaataa, a global sound system, uniting tribes with groove/
yo bruh, reality check/ They weren’t just playing records, they were playing the instrument/Scratching, back spinning, beat juggling – a symphony of skill/ Mix masters, beat captains, electronic alchemists, wizards behind the wheel of Hip Hop fortune/ They birthed a new language, a dialect of dance, a history rewritten in the hiss and crackle of vinyl on a HiFi Stereo/ Acid Jazz… Modern Jazz… Trip hop, Latin Tech House/ The DJ Culture… Rap, Hip-Hop, a family born from a shared rebellion, Formidable, Definitive/ Each is a testament to the power of sound, to the bridge built on a bassline, drum sample/
a thump, a bump on a low rider jam/ to the future forged in the fire of the beat/ The voyage is not over/ I have a fear of standing still…like I’m outta of here/
***** NONPARTISAN SHAM (BULL SH*T) SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN *****
Innocuous, yet unhealthy threat looms across
(air/radio) telecommunications devices
linkedin with plenti networks that criss cross
even primitive computers utilizing DOS
by George, which archaic code
once powered Mill on the Floss,
now long since covered over
with flora I lichen and recognize as moss.
Surgeon general (Jerome Michael Adams
20th Surgeon General of the United States)
strongly advises against, yet he does not boast
threat looms large coast to coast
watching more than five minutes at most
equivalent machination, the following I post
re: guarding haunting experience
analogous visit by fashionably late ghost
2020 presidential election coverage
able, eager, and ready to prey upon host
whereby curious George experiences
feeling noggin fried like toast.
A carefully worded (fake) communiqué
purportedly the brainchild of one freak
Matthew Scott Harris,
whose jargon puzzling as deciphering Greek
long story short while in utero,
he experienced cerebral leak,
said cheesy mousy man no longer meek
quite evident courtesy literary pique
his haughty style aiming to characterize
generic guy as self anointed Sheikh
sought after acceptance tepid and week.
Nevertheless he speaks/writes truth to power
aforementioned serious risk steeped within
social media platform sensory overload I ascribe,
whereby subliminal messages
voter's blitzkrieg does bribe,
albeit unconsciously, hence me subsequent rhyme
equals forewarning in league with mild diatribe
which receptive yours truly can transcribe.
All joking aside
oversaturation soaking up
presidential election aye chide
against viewing in excess (five minutes at most)
affixed to live streaming broadcast
can find thee steadfast staring getting bug eyed
thus hoop fully let moderation serve as guide
cuz the eventual outcome re: guarding
president elect political experts cannot hide
though be wary lest premature ejaculation trumpets
sore loser candidate, that
bombastic egotistical ignoramus lied
cuz prejudice nsync with pompous pride
for four years to many
the webbed wide world let him slide,
now as one common Joe,
a hardened criminal he best be tried.
Hooray for Captain Spaulding...
though he played only a cameo role
helping me secure corrective eyewear I sport
mucho gratitude to all parties involved
including the missus,
cuz she needed to shuttle me
to and from hither and yon,
wherever I needed to go,
cuz entire bill paid
(including thorough examinations and lenses -
the frames repurposed
from one used many moons ago)
courtesy AETNA Medicare Advantra
in tandem with superb
ocular optometrist Doctor Paul Halpern,
that would be an unpaid for plug
touting outstanding kickass knowhow
insync with his offbeat good humor
without making a spectacle of himself.
Many insightful revolutionary breakthroughs
linkedin to gamut of intelligent people,
whose exhaustive mental,
physical and spiritual efforts
witnessed visually impaired
(shortsightedness affected wordsmith
since he entered second grade
at Eagleville Elementary School
circa approximately mid nineteen sixties)
and anticipated him being called
mildly derogatory name four eyes,
thus withheld donning glasses
at the expense of lackluster marks
for that half year, cuz parents moved
to 324 Level Road
initially R(oute) D(elivery)
until Donald Neilson
(if memory serves me
more correctly than spelling
of his surname, and "The Idler Wheel
Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw
and Whipping Cords Will Serve You
More Than Ropes Will Ever Do" by Fiona Apple),
and yesterday November 12th, 2024
happily, proudly, and zealously wears glasses
to see the webbed wide world crystal clear.
Post cataract surgery,
about couple months
after consultation at Kremer Eye Center
and finally came to figurative juncture
whereat (drum roll please...)
prescription adjusted eyeglasses
now sit squarely on my button nose -
as long as I hold them there with a finger
until cosmetic surgeon affixes a bump
on the bridge of said nose
analogous to the song titled
I can see clearly now the rain is gone
I can see all obstacles in my way
(courtesy Johnny Nash,
who raked in quite a bit of cash)
to drive our 2020 Hyundai Elantra
after dark shadows slink and slither
along the edge of night
encompassing an ever widening berth,
where the outer limits
meld with swathes of the twilight zone.
Freedom before my lost brother
They march before the rising sun with guns at six
We stand before sun down with signs of freedom
Who really marches to the same drum?
When my hand have been blown off for beat
The beat, the beat, the beat
As he races from the explosion of freedom in his chest
For freedom
To escape this tide of hate
That swept us slaves of red, white and blue
And he is nothing like before when hate took him away
He is a man at six and we are still children as adult
War took my hands and feet I am no solider
I fight for freedom not money
You fight so this tide will not cross-oceans and sands
We fight here for food and light
And light, to breathe, to die for family
Across the ocean hand my son an ak-47
And he will march and kneel before God for forgiveness
Hand my brother a ruger and he will stand in the shadows for American greed
Greed in the land of freedom and hope, black in the shadows
And mother can mend wounds here across the oceans she can only dial
Extensions.....
Of relief
Mother over there must know how to be doctor and surgeon, and warrior for the
Next
Generation to survive, to live
We cannot procreate; we are the ends of mankind
With bombs in the hands of babies
To extend our left hand of hate across the ocean, across towers of hope
We must all be the same here a million mile from each other
My skin dictates that I hate, be hated, I rape, be raped
I bleed red, white and blue
Watching in shock, disbelief as red, white and blue goes up in flames in the
Ashes of the wind just like you
Freedom can never come to me here before her with that torch
My mother across the ocean must be sending me a package of death to kill my
four father
Your four father because my complexion means that no one can see me
I am a lost brother, forgotten sister
Hated child with no hands, no hands in freedom
March me before television cameras, signs of peace, and words of love
I am still a lost brother............ before truth
But you knoe me so well..
From the the same box that caused my cousins in your land to be hung
Money means nothing here, Money means every thing beside her with the torch
Pass it to me so I may freedom---the truth
Cerulean sky in the quiet jungle was shook up by the unexpected tremor of a white and red bimotor plane. Larry, a tall, olive skin, green eyes, was the handsome pilot of the plane called Lara. Mechanical problems obligated Larry to an emergency landing.
In the crystalline river was a lady called Lara. She was camping for two days in the inhospitable surroundings. A heart break made her to take a time out from her hectic work schedule as general surgeon. Footsteps were heard in the dry leaves. Lara looked behind her, to see the impressing presence of Larry. She thought she was going to faint.
Larry felt a skip in her heart when he saw Lara. She was very identical to his deceased beloved. Without uttering a word, they felt love at first sight. Larry asked to Lara her name. They introduced themselves. Lara was packing to return to her home. Larry told Lara about the plane incident. She offered Larry to take him to his home. By coincidences of life, they live in the same urbanization. Before stepping out of the car, Larry gave to Lara a business card with his phone number. He was the CEO of an important tobacco exporting company. One week later, Lara took her cell phone and called Larry.
He invited her to a dinner to an elegant restaurant of the city. While they were dining, Larry told to Lara that he wants to know more about her. After concluding the dinner, they agreed to continue communicating by phone, letting that time decide their romantic future. Two years passed, when Larry invited Lara to dinner waiting a surprise to Lara. An engagement ring was inside of the rose bouquet. Larry asked Lara if she would marry him. Lara accepted the proposal. Wedding planification started. Fue most expected day for Larry and Lara arrived.
Larry was wearing a black tuxedo. The ivory bridal gown of Lara was stunning. Cala flowers and pink roses were part of the church decoration. Lara walked the aisle when Larry was waiting for her. After the religious ceremony, they were declared husband and wife. They left the church in a white limousine to the reception in a five star hotel. Blissful days were part of their married life until death separate them, ending a romance that began in a jungle.
The End
In Defense of the Witch of the West
By Elton Camp
In her, nobody sees any good
But maybe they really should.
Cut some slack for the poor old soul
Criticized for what’s not in her control.
A good place to begin
Is the color of her skin.
Who of us can rightly say
Why it’s green that way?
Shame on all of those
Who ridicule her nose.
It is a most terrible creature
Who mocks a physical feature
Is it some kind of sin
To have a pointed chin?
A wart on the face
Is not a big disgrace
No use her to be urging
To see a plastic surgeon.
Maybe she likes her looks just fine.
If so, then why should others mind?
But it is only fair to say
She needs a new couturier.
Styling sense she does lack
Always wearing basic black
Seems no good reason that
She must wear a pointy hat.
It would be wrong not to confess
More like Glinda she should dress.
And it couldn’t be much trouble
Instead of a broom, ride a bubble
She is seldom held to be a dear
Because of how she does appear
But does it actually seem to be fair
For such things, title “Wicked” bear?
The day that most of us would rue
If not judged mainly by what we do.
Partners in Dorothy's crime came to be
Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion—an evil three
The witch could no longer show pity
As they came near to Emerald City
When before the Wizard they did stand
He made the most dire and cruel demand
To get my help, you must pass this test:
Get the broom of the Witch of the West
Dorothy was the first to admit
Try that and she will have a fit.
But we will go there and try.
So what if witch has to die?
So with murder in her evil heart,
Toward the castle she did depart
Witch of the west we must commend
Since her domain she tried to defend
Undeterred, the four continued to hassle
The woman in her home, her own castle.
In most dire treachery Dorothy then dealt
She threw water and caused her to melt.
Maybe it was an accident, but still
It was second person she did kill.
It is surely a totally safe bet
The murders she didn’t regret
Witch’s servants whom she gave jobs
Laughed at her death rather than sobs.
The poor witch had lived much alone
Then all rejoiced when she was gone.