Chasing my dreams, I come from far away land,
Surfing the web looking I was for a friend,
Got somehow lucky and found you in the end.

The oath you took to heal and save lives,
Listen to my heart and tell me how it beats,
I will feel better when you look in my eyes.

Met you once, floating I am in the cloud of joy,
I see you, you are no less than “Helen of Troy”,
May be I am naive, I want to be your boy.

Like to know you better and Listen to your story,
You cure many and help me in my misery,
Healer you become and reach a great glory.

We sit in manicured silence
A sterile, germ free environment
But still we share the air
In this room,
Breathing and rebreathing
Our own and each other's fumes.
I can smell your eau de cologne
With a hint of toothpaste,
Though not enough to disguise
The lingering fug of cigarettes
In hair and on clothes,
Unchanged since yesterday, telling
Of that drink on the way home in the pub,
Your hands shake a little, yellowed fingers
Giving away your nicotine addiction;

So doc how's the state of my health.

When I was young I saw a bird break it's wings
I took it home with me and slept it with it on my chest
I still wake up and hear it's wings fluttering in my ears
I couldn't fix it, and ever since I've never been enough
I have spent a lifetime trying to fix every broken wing I find
Housed the flightless birds and waited for my redemption
I have weighed my worth against their ability to heal
But my chest is not a nest, nor my bed a sanctuary
And perhaps it is not me that is broken, it is just their wings

Old dinosaur man go sniff
Spit on three fingers so that I can have a kiss.
No, doctorosaurus- this isn't a hit
It's been a miss since long ago.
Slow; she's waiting on you.
Reptilian creature, fixer of blue
Imagines my groove to soothe himself.
There is no sedating the truth-
You want to use this.
**** little temptress
In a skintight sundress.
I'm a hot mess
And you want me.
Epidermal- under your skin
So easily.

A poem a day,
Keeps the psychiatrists away.

Scream, Memory

Accidents don't happen on holiday,
do they?
Standing in the shower, I stare out of
a tiny window at the setting sunlight.
In a row, children on a rustic bench
chatter through their colored ices
and kick their sandaled feet.
Soon, a tall, bland man appears
with smiles for all--this is his family
and he is happy.
His ambiance is like a drug so I leave
my caravan, barely dry,
Wanting to speak to him and not knowing why.
His good fortune draws one to him,
Yet I find another reason.
He directs me without words
to a desolate room and a gown.
And I remember...that I have not remembered
lately. And my collection of names is dwindling,
memory leaking like a wire basket.
Even before I don the ugly robe and lie down
on a cold, plastic bench,
I know what the diagnosis will be.
The cylindrical tunnel looms and his nurse or wife
motions to it as he still smiles.
The machine roars like time passing
And I emerge carefully, not wanting to know.
Seeing my expression, he turns on me:
"It is bad news, but also sad."
He tilts his head like a bird, self-satisfied.
His vacuous delight belies the words.
What the hell is the difference, I think.
And like a falling tree, reality splits the dream
And knocks down my life.
I weep, uncontrolled.
It does not help to swear
nor to hit the wall with my fist.
But would it help to slap the doctor?
People crowd around and tell me to stop
but, as I had to when my father died,
I continue to rave.
For, what is simple to them
I will not make so to me.
I will mourn and censure Fate!
And if I still must,
I will not go gently
But scream all that I remember
Into the fading light.

April 19, 2019

Kind Dr. Lin went out on a limb.
All to be shown, why she did moan.

At great personal cost (for it might have been lost),
He loaned out his charger, and didn’t pre-charge her.

Delighted to find, that, with his great mind,
And the evidence found, he became quite renowned.

May he ever be generous and known for his cleverness.