Category: Poetry
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I’m listening
Tulsi PatelChicago, Illinois, United States To the gentle whispers of the summer breeze,The carpenter ants’ chatter in the trees,A firefly’s luminous flash in the night,A saguaro’s water, still and quiet.The ocean’s froth, a fierce collision.Then, hoarse vocal cords, a trach’d admission,Eyes’ wells fill, glistening and bright,LVADs’ hum, a steady pump’s right. I listen close till…
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Aphasia
Tulsi PatelChicago, Illinois, United States Paint chips Plume of smoke Plume of feathers Peach pits Petty parrot Paris — In muddled speech dwells a world unknown,Where ordered words once danced, now overthrown.Broca’s realm, a twisted maze,Where language hides in veiled haze.The mind’s expression, bound and tied,An overpass collapsed, connections dried. Thoughts in motion, stammer and…
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It’s all in a name
Rida KhanNew York, United States I struggle with the letters that make up my nameIt hesitates and falls flat on their tonguesAnd although I’ve searched for reason, there is an inexplicable shameThat I’ve unwillingly carried since I was young Until one day, in a hospital bed ten paces from the nurse’s stationA tired man of…
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A doctor writes to God
Nolo SegundoUnited States My friend, a retired surgeon,tells me he would like to believein an almighty and loving God,but claims science, annoyingly,keeps getting in the way—soI ask why, why is that? After all, one is of this world,the world of physics, of math,the world of flesh and blood,the world of nature, full ofcontradictions, unpredictable,noble, beautiful…
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The two ends of the stethoscope
Jill KarNew Delhi, India Author’s note The theme of this poem is the decline of doctor-patient relationship in the modern medical setting. Through the expression of unsaid feelings, this poem outlines the thoughts of a patient (stanza 1) and a doctor (stanza 2) in the setting of a health consultation on a busy outpatient day…
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O Child! My Child!
Alice RanjanRedmond, Washington, USA O Child! My Child!Enter did you, into this world,incarnadine and warm.But when I held you in my arms,you did not shriek or love or scorn.Nay, you took the pathfrom mother’s bloodto River Styxin evanescent breath.How I wish you could have stayed with meto see the world beyond. You will not see…
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The grieving one: On the death of a spouse
Paul RousseauCharleston, South Carolina, United States “A real experience of death isolates one absolutely. The bereaved cannot communicate with the unbereaved.”– Iris Murdoch, An Accidental Man, 1971 “Alone” holds the word “one.” After the death of a spouse, we are al(one). ____ One pillow on the bed. One imprint on the sheet. One towel in…
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Bone headdress
Susan SampleSalt Lake City, Utah, United States After artwork created by a person with cancer Why tens of bones linkedwith silver chain intoan earthly veil? I gaze at other entries:hand-stitched quiltswith undulating seams. I am accustomedto O’Keeffe’s paintingof the lone cow skull; Ezekiel’s storyof dry, disconnectedbones strewn in a valley until divine breathbinds bone to…
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Villanelle
Jolene WonChicago, Illinois, United States I did not know today would be your last –we see no end for those that we hold dear.If I had known I’d not have let it pass. The nurse who knows she can’t set down her taskscontinues on, tries not to shed a tear.I did not know today would…