Short Bedridden Poems

Bedridden hopes
Tears
Blood...

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bedridden but blessed
old lady holds her grandchild
she finds strength to BE...

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Boulder shoulders, 
bursting biceps,
terrifying to see,

    a menacing mountain 
    of a muscle-man
    he used to be.


Now, bedridden,
he wilts away his days
till the end arrives.

    This nursing home's 
    locked doors hide 
    closing and closed lives....

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Paraplegic 

Wheelchair, catheter

Racing, dancing, maneuvering

Colourful rims and frame, colourful little person,

Singing, rhyming, mischievous

Surgery, bedridden,

Me

***

6th place in Diamante contest
Sponsor Janis Thompson
October 15, 2016...

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birth out in the mist
bright things then have birth
between the beauty and decay
molten lead adjourned

the faithfulness of a century
lies bedridden
the missives continueth

Doom stirs the mosaics of dearth
please do not disturb
the cadence of tomorrow's plan
The butterflies hoover...

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There is an orgy of fruit above our heads
Delectable sweetness falls unto our beds
We shall devour the sweetness so ripe and pure
Tantalizing encounters,
Angels so bright with amorous decor
Intercourse woven upon the forest floors,
Lustfully we be bedridden
Satisfying our wanton souls in the village of Sidon...

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His point-blank, most promising laurel lost
Long, long his e'er-lasting longing lingers
His muse becomes bedridden under freezy frost 
Yet his nikhedonic mindscape ne'er malingers
Surging from mood's winters and merging its splinters
Ramrodding illusion-edified effulgences into his emulous edacity
Without knowing whether with reluctance or with alacrity...

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A crippled devout is bedridden
None in his family to earn
His innocent, cherub children
Are dying of starvation!

With pouted lips they ask
‘O!  relenting  Lord hark!
To us why are you so merciless?’
Immutably He replies, ‘—Because you are faithless!!

‘The extortionist though he commits sin,
Prays me from his heart within!!’
Fie! Fie!! Relentless Lord!!!
Compassionate, clement Death! Be not proud!!...

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A crippled devout is bedridden
None in his family to earn
His innocent, cherub children
Are dying of starvation!

With pouted lips they ask
‘O!  relenting  Lord hark!
To us why are you so merciless?’
Immutably He replies, ‘—Because you are faithless!!

‘The extortionist though he commits sin,
Prays me from his heart within!!’
Fie! Fie!! Relentless Lord!!!
Compassionate, clement Death! Be not proud!!...

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A Skilled Care Unit

Faces racked with pain,
no medicine can cure.
Sad and alone, no one
comes to visit.
Bedridden, confined to
wheelchairs, nowhere to go.
Pacing the halls, doors locked,
prisoners at the end of life.
Memories of laughter, family
outings, salt, sea air, cookouts.
All slowly fading now, freedom
lost to old age and infirmities.
Life condensed to a single room
with death the only escape.
...

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There is a fact known,
A fact not meant to be so.
A fact we know,
Though here we fight for it being better.
For literature, I am seeing her  in a coma,
And writing in a mortuary
While I did see Drama insane,
I see prose, bedridden,
Then for poetry, I weep,
For she is at her grave side.
Someone should help her, I pray,
Maybe us, I think.
My best I attempt,
But would it be enough?
I ask.
For all it need is a miracle.
A miracle strong and powerful.

KANU EKPEZU...

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Eyes upon another for I did not know your name 
Though what purest love rest still within me 
Dorminant, triggered in the looks of thy eye 
Sparks like matter, irrodescent in thy sight 
The magic mustered to my very plight 
For I did not know your name
Yet ye inthrawled me
Took me up to heavens starling sights 
Left me alone bedridden In the night 
No I did not know your name 
Though the red threads aligned us
Entangled with you before I could explain our truth
...

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Naked and naïve
it’s time to bereave
your bedridden soul
for which ravens toll
You wear cynicism in
on a placid sunny day
melting a turquoise sky
into a saffron souffle
Your derision derides
the emptiness inside
digesting a child’s core belief
with your apocalyptic grief
So filet those frailties
with that phoenix in your fray
by flapping that acrid ash
far, far away
Then bathe in a turquoise sky
on a placid sunny day
as you stand before that child
naked and naïve...

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How would it feel to be tall? To be rich?
To be bedridden, hungry or poor?
How would I cope with a limp or a twitch
Or a wheelchair to get out the door?

How would I live with no water or heat
Or with servants to tend to my needs?
How would I thrive with no friends I could greet
Or my talents thought worthless as weeds?

How would it be to be not who I know
As myself all the way to the core?
There’s no way to tell but I hope, even so,
I’d be me still – no less and no more....

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There once was this goddess named Nut
Who was found in the tomb of King Tut
Her head was a cow
But her body was “WOW!”
And as goddesses go – she kicked butt

Her skin was the hue of the sky
Covered with stars floating by
Of her it was said
She protected the dead
She was one of the highest of high

But the statues of her were all hidden
And common folks looking – forbidden
Only priests got to peek
Incantations they’d speak
Wishing she could be bedridden

Mdailey	7/28/11
Placed 15th in contest...

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