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Liam C Calhoun Jun 2016
I spy something
Murky red
And in the
Bottom of my cup.
I wash it down with
Something less than
Reluctant
While leaving the
Rust,
Or assumed iron,
To chance,
This one chance
And not to be
Repeated.

Tomorrow,
Now today,
I spy something
Murky red,
Once more tomorrow,
Tomorrow’s tomorrow,
Again and again
And day after days,
Rusty red
In the bottom of my
Cup –
I grow paranoid.

I empty the
“Keep,”
And creep into every
***,
Tea-***,
Pan and/or
Cooking tool
Seeking
Threatening material,
Foreign material,
And lodged in my brain
Material.

So too,
Amid my investigations,
I’d discovered
Alzheimer’s,
Dementia,
Blindness,
A stroke or two,
And in some cases
Death
Had you ingested enough
Ore,
Or so I’ve heard.

I spy
Metal flakes
Atop
Metal constructs,
Heavy,
Soft, caustic,
And broken post
Point-of-sale,
Broken
And now in me,
Circulating through my –
Spleen,
Kidney
And brain.

I’ve developed a
Phobia
For unwanted edible metal,
A curious
Cereal
Resulting from the
Cartoon
Of my
Dying grandfather,
Once an architect,
Now ten minutes to
Tie shoes –
A brain hemorrhaged
Iron, I’m sure of it.
John Stevens Apr 2016
(Heaven and Earth)

June has gone on ahead of me
Looking down with a smile today.
She has been renewed forever
I am getting older by the day.

My body has many cracks,
Crevices and creases.
"chugging along", missing June -
For Love, it never ceases

Resting on a swaying foundation
God has been good to me
I'm "chugging along" waiting my turn
My Glorious June to see.

I've got Memories by the dozen,
Reminiscences by the score…
The day I stop remembering…
is the day I'll close this door.

My World will have ended
Heaven bound I will be.
Where June is ever waiting...
For her Stan she will see.

My World will soon end
Temporary it has been.
God is calling me home
Where Eternity will begin.
Please visit my friend Stan's web site
Stanton O. Berg, Forensic Consultant (Retired) At age 87

Half the words are Stans. All the words are from his heart.

http://www.junebergalzheimers.com/

See:  Home Bound.   And The Path
.
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
You are to blame
He must fix everything with duct tape
and there is never enough
And it's your fault
What have you done with his duct tape?

Those in need need duct tape
There's going to be war
and this finishing off
needs more duct tape

You begin to wonder
if duct tape
will hold together
the hole
where memory leaked away
And somehow you're to blame

Better buy more duct tape

Where the **** is the newspaper?
When the **** did he start using the word ****?
**** duct tape

Be credulous
swallow (whole)
gulp down
Make sure he's eating enough
Buy more duct tape

That malevolence
riddled upon his face
He's winning the Duct Tape Wars

Fight pugnacity's furor
there is this figurative war
and it will be won
with duct tape
Duct tape has become a metaphor for Alzheimer's. It's winning the war. There also seems to be an obsession with the piling of bricks, and walking around in his underwear.
Mark Lecuona Apr 2016
You never forgot what was lovely
What is a memory anyway
If you can walk as it is happening
Then what you forget
Awaits for you tomorrow
You remembered how to love
Nobody taught you that
Because a feeling is life itself
There are no more lessons
No more reasons to defend
You did what you had to do
And then you left it all with me
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Extemporaneous words fall
Then jaw drops

Nonchalant phrases
to well deserved ear
avoiding acknowledgement

So back and forth it goes
underneath whole quantity
of quality

Then

When all the words are forgotten
couple stares at each other
desperately trying to

Remember
who that person is
But it is no use
and best to hope for

Tomorrow's lucidity

And when those moments
have slipped away
Alzheimer's wins
Please take care of those you love. Even when you do not recognize them, or they you, they need you all the more.
Eva Ellen Jan 2016
Alzheimer's headaches
              Brain tangled like my headphones
Tied like a shoelace
Linz Nov 2015
Dear Grammy
You are my everything
You make me smile
To be with you, I'd walk a million miles

The thought or your stew
Makes my stomach growl
Your warmth in the kitchen
Makes everyone run to the table

The thought of your embrace
I feel happy and high

The way your smile
Light up my life
I'm sad that your memory of me
Is no longer in sight

"What's your name?", you ask.
"I'm your granddaughter", I say.
Tear stream from my face
As I hide far away.
I come back, sit next to you
And your smiles astray.

I miss your fond memories
Of me and you dancing
Of us making dinner
Of us simply driving.

I know you can't remember the words that I say
But for you dear grandma
In your heart I will always stay
For my dearest Grammy and my favorite person in my entire universe, to the far galaxy and beyond, I love you.
Shay Nov 2015
Today I introduced myself to my mum again.
Knowing she has no remembrance of me caused a lot of pain.
It’s harder now than ever because with time
She’s lost 98% of her memory and is losing more as the clocks chime.
But I went in and read her favourite book as I held her hand,
and to her I sung her favourite song by her beloved band
knowing it would put a smile on her face
as with love my heartbeat grew quicker pace by pace.
I asked her “may I have this dance?”
And we waltzed around the nursing home garden taking a chance.
I did all this because although her brain is fading away,
She is human and she’s the only one who’s loved me always.
Now it’s time for me to visit and look after her each and every day
so that she’s never alone as the end is on its way.
JDK Nov 2015
Every poem I ever wrote is nothing but a sticky note,
with keywords written to remind me of all but forgotten memories.
Cheat code: #sandwitches
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