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Steve Page Aug 24
My dad takes me to the hospital on his bike.
It’s icy and he wears his sheepskin gauntlets
and I’m grateful to shelter behind him

secure in his familiar gruff intolerance.
This is not the first time he’s taken TOIL for me
and his frustration radiates through his layers

but this two-of-us space is still delicious,
still precious for its rare warmth.
And he parks, and we dismount like John Wayne,

and the wall of his leather back takes the lead
as I stride into outpatients in his impatient wake,
making demands for his boy from the nervous staff

and taking relief from the update on my progress
and for the scar that gives me some hope of distinctiveness
and a source of stories for years to come.

Stories with my dad.
I had stitches on my forehead from a fall off my bike.  Mt mum didn't drive - so my dad had to take time off in lieu for my check ups, taking me on his motor bike.
Why doesn’t that bed,
Have a patient.
Why pay for nature,
When it wants us dead.

Smell the fresh air,
Enjoy the colours.
Those evolved scents,
Placate places we do not feel.

Build over it,
Put another clinic in.
Where will we go,
To remember ourselves though.

Does not matter,
Clink followed clank.
Automation winnowing expertise,
Life is what we make it.
Had such a nice experience when recovering in hospital to go to their gardens. I was lucky enough to be able to reach them but without places of nature in hospitals long term patients may suffer.
Filomena Aug 5
Surrounded by infernal screams
I think this might be Hell
The tortured and the suffering
Around the wishing well
Psych ward poetry.
Set 3, poem 21.
hj Jun 24
I remember an old guy he was an alcoholic hospitalized with me, he used to cut his cigarette filter so it guests stronger, I do the same sometimes, I wonder what he’s doing now. When we used to ask him he used to say “I’m already messed up there’s nothing left to ruin” I wonder if he’s okay now if he finally has something to ruin, I wonder if I do too, and then I remember you. I remember your eyes looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters in this universe, I remember, how u could know if I was asleep or pretending to avoid a conversation, you said my eyes smiled when I fell asleep, I dont know what you meant by that, but it made me smile. I remember you proposing to me with a pine cone, and promising me you will do it again one day, but for real. I remember spending two days locked in a car with you, you were worried about me, you wouldn’t leave, we slept uncomfortably, but we were still comfortable cuz I was in your arms and you were in mine.
I remember dancing with you in the er as we waited for me to be admitted, it was cringy and cheesy but I didn’t care, in your arms the only thing I care for is you. I remember your lips on mine and how they tasted, I remember how the universe exploded but disappeared at the same time when you kissed me for the first time. I remember when You pinned me me against the wall and kissed me as if I was the only running river in a drought. I remember the flowers I sent you and how you keep them, I remember how u put my birthday gift in a box filled with those same flowers that you dried, it was a necklace a ring with wings, it was a promise. A promise that one day, we’ll have everything, we’ll have a house with a garden, and cats, so many cats, one day we’ll have kids and I’ll tell them how much their dad loved their mom, that’s how they’ll learn what love really is, one day we will have something to ruin, we will have everything to ruin, but we won’t
Eve K Jun 9
I'm surfing, along the coastline.
The waves pulling me in, my strength pushing me out.
Music in one ear, shouting in the other.
I breathe, a breath of salty air. It settles in my lungs and I choke.
Sometimes the salt can clear the alveoli and make it easier to breathe,
But not today.

Today the air is heavy. Clouds pour down single droplets but when altogether, it is a storm. The wind howls, burning my ears. Whispering that it's all too much.

I crave a fall into the ocean, pulled out to sea. It's become too much and I'm drowning.
But I'm not drowning. I float. I float with tears mixing into the salty water. I can feel the undercurrent begging me to come down to it so it can pin me down to the sea bed where I can hold my last breath and breath again.
But it's not breathing it's drowning and the thought makes me thrash around and I panic.
So instead, I panic on top of the water, thrashing and jerking around desperately trying not to drown.

The skies will become clear again. The stormy skies will reveal the blue which is always there. The stars are still shining underneath the despairing clouds. They are always there, just hidden at times.

All I have to do is breathe with the waves and stay afloat till the storm goes away.
over the past few years, I have experienced so many things as a nursing student working in a rest home and now the hospital. There's days, weeks, months where I struggle. The emotional overload of having to see the worst positions people are in. Sometimes it's hard to find hope again in these times. Especially when surrounded by death and despair and dying. It's not going to get easier but that's why I become more resilient. But it's also important to take moments when things are too tough to just sit with the feelings. Otherwise I will drown.
Eighty years young
Speaking in tounge

Your body fought
Head full of bizarre thought

Arms and legs restrained
How are you not frightened

Are they violent, Yah?
We tried, everything,
for the shake of your revival

I can't bear to see you like this
I wish you are dismiss

Heavily sedated & exhausted
To tired to wrestled & agitated
Lord please take his pain away
090422 | 18:28 in Borromeus ICU's waiting room. Dari kemarin dadakan dari kantor langsung ke airport ke bandung. Ayah kritis. I go bcs mama papa minta langsung ke bdg. It's painful to see him like this. God give him mercy please.
neth jones Apr 8
modern behemoth building of the sterile
herded human
              remains in sickness

racked for our chemical curing

this building is only a single day of abandon
                   away from natural reclamation
taunts are made in the wings
the ants enter and leave freely
drain moth flies frequent most water sources in the building
rodents are at the door
rabbits and groundhogs tunnel in the lawns
hawks circle above using the buildings heat
           the wild world
        allowing our inclusion
   for at least one more hospital stay
neth jones Mar 27
the lumy screen
x-ray mission
counting ribs
    but courting what's in-between
trying to salvage disease
    from the pardonable cage
use corrective attractors
drag them on the screen
    and mould a mange of the dark spots
humble in an alcove
zoom in on the spot
take out your little skin leafed
pocket book
clean the cough from your throat
    and sprout  'the working words of God'
a congregation of cancer cells
    put in their place
neth jones Mar 27
begin the day ; a **** taught of features
in need of clean linen,
    unswallowable meds
    and a diaper change
routine ; that'll teach ya !

they ask her the day of the week
   her name
what year it is
   when is your birthday ?
do you feel any pain ?
   do you know where you are ?

flailing in memory
they just turn off the overheads
  and let her settle into her senility
attend to the physical basics
whilst she's suckered into her own storage unit
  operating like a humming fridge
   with its door slight ajar
    and the small hot bulb
     finking on and winking off

                      - perish well 
                       & in comfort Dear
Cassandra Mar 6
it was grasping at the air when your throat closes love.
drive down and back in a snowstorm panic,
only to ***** at the sight of blood and stool,
so just say yes kind of closeness.
i always struggled with the difference between
need and want.
maybe I just wanted to be needed.
skeletons didn't hide in closets in our house.
they were out in the open for me to bathe and feed
and for the skeletons to grab my *** and call me cute,
and ***** me when they wanted,
and it was fine and we were
what is the difference between a hospital bed and a couch?
there is no punchline.
i'm bad at jokes.
what's the difference between a joke and playing house?
i'm bad at jokes.
so when something hit the floor a little too hard
i simply walked away until it was picked up again
when i returned.
so when you sat in a house filled with smoke
i would try to pull you to safety until
the weight of you made my arms numb.
so when you told me you didn't know how to cry
i would kiss you just a little too hard to see if you'd bleed
and you learned that was how to kiss me back.
i'd pretend it didn't hurt, then come back with
Do you want a time out?
Don't talk back to your mother now
(unless its in bed, and you really want to try it,
and its always been a dream of yours, and you won't feel whole again until I remind you that you are, and you haven't been able to feel like this in years, and pretty please?)
(i'd say never, until i said,
just once.
i didn't hate it
i guess).
giving became the only way to strengthen your sinews
my body was somewhere between the size of housewife and pornstar,
adjusting as needed to fill in any crack in the wall
left by an aimless controller or fist,
the fatty tissue to replace anything your aching body lost
and was trying to find in the empty space you left
between rage and apathy.
i was choking on hospital food
and grabbed for something so i could breathe.
what's the difference between loving and dying?
i'm bad at jokes.
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