POETIC ASPIRIN TO AN ACHING SOUL

Poetic Aspirin to an Aching Soul       

Has grief ever choked you

and made you an island of despair,

crushed your bones to powder

and snuffed you out with the stench

of your own miserly misery?

 

Have you ever wept

in the silent solitude of your heart

with a smile so bright it’s blinding,

wishing and praying for a soul to see

beyond the façade of euphoria?

 

Did he plant himself

between your unwilling laps

telling you of your worthlessness,

of how your stench fuels his rage,

while purity trickled down your legs, blood-red ?

 

When the white-coated man told you,

did you feel a mass of agony above you,

hovering like a cloud with that sadistic laugh,

when he said the word “cancer”,

did you dream of death and loneliness?

 

Have you ever felt like burning,

like setting the whole world on fire

and tasting its wails on the tongue of your ears,

dying with the thought of your selflessness,

of sharing your pain with the earth?

Has sorrow ever wrapped itself around you

while you lived with dimness of spirit

wandering and wondering why life loathed you so much,

why it wanted you to die of heartache

and the wrecking weight of perpetual loss?

 

But listen,

whoever said the world was created to give you peace,

to give you a life of fairies and bottled genies?

Tell me, who taught you to expect joy

from a planet designed to make you cry?

 

Rise above your river of tears,

luxuriate in the gift of breath,

let it be your strength in the dead of night,

let it be your solace on the bed of light,

for only the living can grief �" call it a privilege.

 

This is what will happen:

you will rebuild your crumbled pillars of bliss

with the sands of desolation handed to you,

you will count your blessings on ten fingers and toes

and pray to God to loan you more limbs,

you will make history out of mystery

and wring sadness by the neck,

for the deepest darkness heralds dawn,

for the wildest hurricanes birth the gayest rainbows

for only the living can grief �" my friend, call it a blessing.

Reviews

[Leslie Philibert]

If I understand this correctly, you offer support to someone ill, in a poetic sense. Fine job.

[Grand Scribe]

I thoroughly enjoyed the sentiments expressed in this. Thanks for sharing.