"caregivers" poems
lines cut heavy
on a button stretched brow
thick rubber shoes
and dragon canes
fill out the closet floor
gospel sounds
and narratives (drowned)
apparitions set sullenly
amid voices from the past
finger pins
and crosswords
find the favor list
point men and preachers
tip up their tuscany caps
twitching and sign gazing
with spectacles held firm
recurring evening news
and beadledom views
clappers and caregivers
raise a crooked foot
grips and rockers
settle in on the front porch
gertrude grimaces
at an untimely turn
as the gooseberry pie
(with a smidgen of cloves)
chills by the night watch
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 12:07 PM UTC
There are no more bad days.
There are moments
of ingratitude
of rage
of self-pity
of hatred.
Those do not last.
There are
friends
family
caregivers
kind strangers.
These are evergreens.
Bad moments need not
become bad days.
The song of life
plays on between them.
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 9:38 AM UTC
Parents:
Overbearing,
too
controlling,
always
out
of
line,
demanding,
embarassing.
Cruelty
undefined,
liars,
protectors,
lovers,
homewreckers,
caring, kind, considerate,
bossy,
loving,
sweet,
caregivers.
And definitively
Mine. <3
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 9:38 PM UTC
When I was lost on the street of life,
My parents took my hand when I was confused.
Whenever I did something dumb due to being young,
My caregivers helped me turn a wrong into a right.
Every time I was living in misery,
They inspired me to rise up from the anguish.
My mother and father guided me through all the mazes,
Encouraging me to become the man I always wanted to be.
They will always be that inspiration that saved my soul,
And no deed is too powerful to express the thanks that I owe them.
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
*(A message to you
Inspired by the THR Family)*
You came to us sick, frightened, confused
What happened next became international news.
We saw you so ill, with everything to lose
Our goal was to help you because that’s what we do.
Alone in a dark ICU room
We fought for your life, our team and you.
We cared for you kindly
No matter our fear
You thanked us each time that we came near.
As each day pressed on, you fought so hard
To beat the virus that dealt every card.
No matter how sick or contagious you were
We held your hand, wiped your tears, and continued our care.
Your family was close, but only in spirit
They couldn't come in; we just couldn't risk it.
Then the day came we saw you in there
We wiped tears from your eyes,
knowing the end was drawing near.
Then it was time, but we never gave up
Until the good lord told us he had taken you up.
Our dear Mr. Duncan, the man that we knew
Though you lost the fight, we never gave up on you.
All of us here; at Presby and beyond
Lift our hats off to you, now that you’re gone.
You touched us in ways that no one will know
We thank you kind sir for this chance to grow.
May you find peace in heaven above
And know that we cared with nothing but love.
*~ postscript.
this poem is not mine; it was penned by a nurse who wishes to remain anonymous. it spoke to me of the passion with which so many, many caregivers serve, so i wanted to share it with you, and in so doing salute each of those who serve us all in the medical community.
the following was published by ABC News on 10/20/14:
"The last nurse to leave the hospital room where Thomas Eric Duncan died has written a poem about the Ebola patient, penned during the sleepless days after Duncan's death, a source told ABC News.The Associated Press. The source provided the poem to ABC News, noting that the nurse who wrote it asked to remain anonymous. Duncan, the first person in the United States to be diagnosed with Ebola, died at the Dallas hospital on Oct. 8. Two of the nurses who cared for Duncan -- Nina Pham, 26, and Amber Vinson, 29, have been diagnosed with Ebola.(Editor's note: THR refers to Texas Health Resources, the company that owns Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital.)"*
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 3:06 AM UTC
She feeleth and thinketh she hast none worth,
If only I couldst showeth her the truth.....
That there is no Ruby
Nor gem,
Nor diamond,
Nor any brick of laden gold,
Nor any treasure chest,
Nor any amount of the worthless dollar bill,
That couldst buyeth who she is
Physically,
Spiritually,
Mentally,
Emotionally,
In all way's.....
No other reserve of this carnal world shalt showeth her the worth she hath....
She is an upper galaxy divine messenger,
Not to just me
But to others;
As her worth isn't measured by earth-like standard.....
No material canst measure up to her merit........
She cometh from her luna,
The one wherein the seraph's wander.....
And art caregivers
And helper's
And they art the true hopeless romantic's of the blue orb air....
She is worth more, than anything to God,
Yet,
She doesn't quite fully understand yet......
But to me,
She's worth living for.
She's worth dying for,
She's worth this life.
As the next
And the next
And the next
And the next
And the next
Then the next
Then the next
Then the next
Then the next
Then the next.........
As she's worth it so much to me I shalt wait a million more next's just for her to be with me.....as she's worth more than anything!!!!
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
in the course of a year
i experience 6-10 people dying
people who intrigue me and
whose walks and voices are
known to my remembrance.
one of these people said to me
when her husband died
after the hospital caregivers
dropped him on his head
“Diane, there is no tomorrow”
Truth.
time is elusive
wasted energies on wasted minutes
can never be done over
and when I have no more time to
share philosophies or
look into another’s eyes
i don’t want to be caught wishing
to have those three days back
that I wasted on some
******* plastic ride
at Disney world.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
Oxygen deprived kiss
A reflection that don't exist
Mouthfuls of toxins infesting my frame
Pierced with defects
Extracting a slice of me
Restricting strength
Bruised by a caregivers hand
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 1:50 AM UTC
Knight of the night
Fearfully incising the hearts
Of those you pass
With pasts
Of unreliable mothers
Fathers
And caregivers
Knight of the night
I try to look
At your presence
As a gift
But in the midst
Of your silken touch
And unsuspecting kisses
Pressing heavier
You've made your impact
Knight of the night
I wonder of your return
Do you feel shame
In your silence
Of naming this sweetness
A forbidden fruit
It will not swallow you,
I promise
I will not let it
For if there is a day
You feel you cannot leave
I will lead you to the garden
And leave you there
So you can grow
Someday I will return
To enjoy the fruits
Of which we loved and labored
Abundant
These,
Gifts of two worlds
Please, realize
You need not be chained
Gifts
Of our worlds
Are to be celebrated
Unshackled
From self-imposed narratives
Free
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 4:27 PM UTC
She has chains
Around her chest
Slowly tightening
Give her rest
She’s in danger
Every day
She can’t continue to
Work this way
She’s saving lives
And skirting death
Ushers joy
Or one’s last breath
This blight has taken
A toll on her
On ALL of us
It has, for sure
But on the caregivers
So much worse
On every doctor
Every nurse
Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 11:19 PM UTC
It appears that I am now
At that age…
The age at which
The older folks of my youth
Shook their heads and talked softly together and
Pat-hugged each other and held hands with sad eyes... and
From the corner of my young ear
Without full comprehension or understanding~
“If there is anything I can do…”
Or
“I’m so sorry for your loss…”
Or
“Bless your heart…”
Then time got away … and
Here we are… and
Somehow surprised to be…
At the age at which
Every other body’s
Mom or Dad or Parents
Are merely needful
Or dying
Or dead… and
We are now the
Caregivers… or
Caretakers… whether
Primary or In Addition To…
Enthusiastically or Reluctantly… it is now
Our turn…
With
Every other body
To shake our heads and talk softly together and
Pat-hug each other and hold hands with sad direct eyes and
Complete and Profound understanding~
“If there is anything I can do…”
Or
“I’m so sorry for your loss…”
Or
“Bless your heart…”
For sadly
We are now
At
That Age
Mar 8, 2012
Mar 8, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC
I pretend that I hate nebraska
because that's what teenagers do
we b i t c h
and we w h i n e
c o m p l a i n
about our home towns
our home states
our home countries
we justify our desire to be
g o n e
a w a y
o u t of this place
with made up facts
about our ****** up hometowns
we never stop
to think
there must be a reason my parents chose to live
h e r e
honestly I have nothing against nebraska
my resentment comes from the desire to be
f r e e
which is just one letter away from
h e r e
so freedom can't be too far in the distance
the truth is nebraska can be pretty great sometimes
there's an honesty
an energy
an optimism that could only be found
in a state where even the city kids
know about the country life
and even though summers bring
90 degree weather
and humid humid h u m i d air
while winters bring
subzero temperatures
and
1
2
3
4
5
6
inches of snow
we don't complain too much about the weather
and a "nice day" could be
30 degrees and snow
50 degrees and rain
80 degrees and heat
we take what we can get
because nebraskans are not
g r e e d y
we made this state our own
but still we get lumped together with
iowakansasmissouricoloradoohioillinois
but we are not k a n s a s
we are not m i s s o u r i
we are not o h i o
and we are not
i o w a
don't even suggest that
we are
N e b r a s k a
and nothing else
we take pride in our state
though there's not much to be proud of
but we are p r o u d anyways
and I think that's beautiful
other places are about
c o m p e t i t i o n
biggerbetterbiggerbetter
but in nebraska we are all each other's neighbors
friends
caregivers
nebraskans stick together
no matter what
and that's why
when your car is barreling across that bridge that links
nebraska and iowa
across that **** river
you will see a rusted green sign
welcoming you to this state that always has nice days
takes pride in every moment
and sticks together
you will see words painted in white spelling out
"the good life"
because sure no matter where you go
life *****
but at least here the people are
g o o d
and some times that's enough
this is not the good life
this is the extraordinary life
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
MOTHERS
The cycle of life would have ceased to exist,
If there were no mothers.
Hard working they are,
Good discipliners they are,
Doctors and caregivers they are.
Praises I give to all mothers
Through all their days,
They’ve raised and fed the world always.
Light they are to the darkness of life,
To husbands they’ve become good wives.
All mothers should be honored,
and venerated,
For these days they have been daunted.
Husband or Wife?
Yes!! You can get another,
But you can’t get another mother.
So let’s know and show our gratitude,
And let their very reward be in multitude.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 3:54 PM UTC
Doctors.
What are doctors? Doctors are people who make the most important decision of their lives to truly choose to dedicate themselves to the care of others. A humble and honest creature that knows in this world full of love it is up to them to recognize that love. Doctors are not Gods nor healers. They are care givers willing to spare an unbearable amount of time to help solve ones heath problems by finding solutions that will truly be able to help a person in need. However, to finding solution, to finding cures and bearing the pain that they see in every patient that they meet, they find a remarkable vast amount of joy. So what make them choose to become caregivers??
It's simply because they know that their job brings sheer of benefit and transformation to genuinely shaping their own life as they find the true meaning of life when they help others get better from a deadly disease or from a fractured bone to removing a malignant tumor from a brain. That is why they do this. They do this because they want not to be acknowledge when finding a cure but, they understand that, giving makes them feel like they're living and that every human's life is worth the same and worth saving.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
I like to read
and write
and contemplate drinking an
extra glass of water since
I get so thirsty on liquid restriction
Sometimes I do drink one
but just one cup
I also like to daydream about
smoking again- I thought
it was so much fun.
If I'm going off grounds
with one of my caregivers
I like to buy
a juicy CD or two,
pick up a Hip Hop Weekly,
and go to a really action movie
like Vin Diesel or
Liam Neeson stuff
or else go to a nice
restaurant in my opinion
and have a nice
full meal for me.
In spite of being
a bit portly I'm
only a nibbler.
If it's Saturday
I like to get back on
the ward to watch
Fredrick Whitfield on CNN
and an Illinois basketball
or football game or a Yankee game
If it's a weekday
and since I don't
particularly like
weekday daytime TV
except for the Harry Connick Jr
show a little and the
musical segment on
Ellen DeGeneres
I'll listen to the "fresh"
CD or CDs,
Change into more comfortable clothes
(I do this usually after I go out)
and relax for snack time
I like to do things on a
lazy day just for what I
find as a peaceful contrast
otherwise it's napping,
listening to CDs and
watching CNN with sound
off as I can hear CDs
and watch pro football
if it's a fall Sunday
Charles Sturies
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 2:26 PM UTC
I'm looking forward
to getting more CD's
cozy, nice Christmas gifts,
Illinois basketball is blooming
a batch of my poetry
typed up by one of my caregivers for me to read
Rejoicing in the social aspects of Christmas
as some Muslims do
Reading a couple of easy read books
Enjoying the cold weather
(I like it cold rather than hot)
Doing some rewarding activities here in the hospital
Sending out Christmas cards to old friends
Pertinent emails to and from family
Timely phone calls from them and back
and the signing of Illinois football recruits
and the Yankee hot glove league
December is my favorite month
mainly because that's when
Illinois can win some ballgames in basketball,
mainly non-conference
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
I hope that one day
you will no longer be imprisoned
by the limitations of your poor communication
that you were conditioned into
by your caregivers and society
may you be freed by cycles of mental trauma
Jul 10, 2021
Jul 10, 2021 at 4:10 AM UTC
A haunting voice echoes into the void.
Light is engulfed by the darkness of the oncoming night.
Many try to shout out in terror, yet only whispers escape their mouths.
Dogs whimper as they hide with their caregivers.
Birds cease their frantic chirping.
The land has been enveloped by the night.
Yet the haunted voice sings on.
An aria for the darnkess.
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 7:00 PM UTC
Tooth grinding rhythms
spun dizzy by solitary kings
Watch the dollars climb
Enamel lost for moments like these
sanity on the counter top
No conclusion in it's beginning
Swollen mouths slowly splattered
spill mad plans at dawn
******* for organisms
sleep with procrastination
No walls broken
no justice served
Familiar biology is the culprits crutch
Written word is the madman's haven
See through it all in these strange silences
Hollow glances for the caregivers
who paint these spaces gray
Knowing nods for the wallflowers
Who melt into plaster backdrops
A sound subconscious falls short
Collect the notions for motion
But haste makes for unresolved sunsets
Lost time on a sideway
a good find for the straggler
Dusted off and put to good use
A path well trotted
A ride well worth it
No time for cruel gazes
no time for criminal persuasions
Master plan lost in red blue cruelty
Crumpled mass underneath the arches
resigned and malnourished
Hoping for a sane tomorrow
Wish it luck
Knowing no soul deserves indifference
Life rides come random in these moments and this passenger was car sick
Taking moments for consolidation helps make time tolerable
No sense for the creator who builds castles without walls
No sense for the observer who watches world's die
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 6:35 PM UTC
Baby Girl
ever so innocent
yet surrounded by
never-ending anger
caregivers were seperated
malice neighborhood
her world collapsing
beneath her
So she grew up to
what she was taught
to wear
coats of anger
and to never
strip them off
no matter how hard
she tries to change
her coats of anger to
jackets of peace
it still sticks like a
second skin
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
Opposite side
of the street
From where I sat
Yesterday
Pubescent victory
Two days
in a row
It’s different
here
since
you left me
Though
your talent
unprecedented
Marked
egotistical
a youth of misunderstandings
Caregivers absent
Childhood demanded
Look at you now
In your glass house
Surrounding yourself
With self doubt
Layered toxic masculinity
Existing to fornicate
Tempt fate
A love story just beginning
Meet me where you first told me
About your mother
And your brother
Star crossed
lovers
May will always
Haunt you
@RhetoricalCuriosity
May 20, 2021
May 20, 2021 at 2:49 PM UTC
A CAREGIVERS PRAYER
the lines from my face explain
all the loss each time and place, as i
step forward and face it head on, my story
is your story, each in our own way, made of
strength and endurance, beyond the pale, some say
we are brave, still i am scared, we do not ask for much
we just do our part, without complaint least of all, we
will never let you down, so don't let us down our
lives are intertwined, in this moment so close; as we
all make ready to contemplate what the coming year
will bring, so i pray for a little respite from all that
we've been through, that is not a lot to ask for now, is it?
by Michael Perry
Dec 19, 2020
Dec 19, 2020 at 6:16 PM UTC
There's a hollowness in me.
It spreads out from within my heart.
It bends the mind and breaks free.
And causes my relationships to break apart.
There's an emptiness in me.
It's the touch of holding hands.
It's my head resting on your shoulder in relief.
And the loving embrace that holds till the last.
There's a missing piece of my mind.
That knows how to ask for a kiss.
That discovered love when he was blind.
And he asked for help when his life was amiss.
There's a missing piece of my soul.
That couldn't tell you how I felt.
And I fell apart when I thought about that hole.
And think suicide is kinder than my hand I was dealt.
There are mistakes I continue to make.
They affect me the whole day through.
And on my life, I do stake.
That to myself, and of you I was always true.
There are people who are gone.
And whenever they hope I am happy.
I can't help but feel my mental scars on me adorn.
And think "They cut me off and act so gladly."
There are many fights that I'd avoid.
And avoided with everything I could.
As push me a little more, I'd crumble, destroyed.
And fall, so much more easily than I should.
There is an age that I would reach.
And as time moves on I would move further again.
Every year, I'd thought there would be an intimacy I'd beseech.
And when they tell me "Hold on" I say "Till when?".
And there are people who hurt me.
And more people who think it just.
That I fall from my high horse, free.
And crumble beneath them like dust.
And as my life continues on.
I hope it not draw to a close.
Before this missing piece comes to me thereupon.
My life moves on from this morose.
There is an empty man who cannot see your charms.
As he never knew how love functioned in the first place.
So please, before you see my indifference or carelessness as weapons-of-arms.
Know I can't help it, as I have no parental love to trace.
I have no lovers hold to remember.
I have no emblazoned kiss to my name.
I feel the absence of any caregivers love, so tender.
I feel myself fail again, just the same.
Nov 4, 2023
Nov 4, 2023 at 3:12 AM UTC