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Literature Text
When I still believed in
God, I walked barefoot
on the hot asphalt; I ran
dripping chlorine, dipping my body
in friend's pools. Genevieve's
had a diving board; behind
Morgan's was a lilac forest where
we played Gypsies and told
fortunes. I prayed at night to be
amazing, to be beyond beautiful
like the world I adored.
My heart filled with honey,
my Augusts full of wonder,
even with my bad foot dragging
on the ground.
God, I walked barefoot
on the hot asphalt; I ran
dripping chlorine, dipping my body
in friend's pools. Genevieve's
had a diving board; behind
Morgan's was a lilac forest where
we played Gypsies and told
fortunes. I prayed at night to be
amazing, to be beyond beautiful
like the world I adored.
My heart filled with honey,
my Augusts full of wonder,
even with my bad foot dragging
on the ground.
Literature
Disability Complex
The bus stop is full of people
I take this bus
Every
Day
The benches at the stop
Are full
I think nothing of it
I stand and wait
A touch on my arm
Do you want to sit here?
A woman, standing, her seat free
I stare at her
Oh.
Sure.
I say and take the seat
Because I don't want to embarrass her
I sit and can't stop thinking
Why did she give me the seat?
Suddenly, my crooked legs
The limp in my step
Like a neon sign
Disabled
Dis-abled
Dis ability
Is that why she gave me the seat?
I don't need it
I can stand.
She was trying to be kind
Is it
Kind?
I sat because I didn't know what to say
What would happen if I said no?
Why did she give me th
Literature
Care
I could care for you. Like, really and truly care for you. You might think that the operations of the small army of nurses and PCAs who are with you 24/7 constitute Care. I appreciate their work; it is good and necessary. But it is not Care. Care is an art. There's a craft to it. The changing of catheters, range of motion exercises and administration of drugs aren't keeping you alive. They're keeping you Not-dead. Not-dead is good, don't get me wrong. But there is more to living than the flow of food, blood, and waste. Of course, I would keep you not-dead. I like to think I would do better than the majority of loved ones who get roped into these sorts of situations. It wouldn't be a walk in the park. It'd be a lot to deal with, even coming as prepared as I am. All the diapers, health complications, and strangers handling your body. It's not glamorous. But I'd like to be there for everything. Good and bad. And yeah, there's a lot of bad. The lack of spontaneity, pressure sores, medical
Literature
No Moving 4
My bed was a normal bed, I decided not to buy a hospital bed for now, but, it had a support beside the bed, like a pedestal, it was automatic, I could take it out or not. It came to the side of my head, where my iPad was now and with mouthsticks for me to hold with my mouth. Flaviky changed my catheter, placed an absorbent blanket, similar to a diaper in case of an accident, under my bottom, I would sleep without a diaper. She dressed me in my pajamas: gray sweatpants and a tank top. She started to put on the devices, some splints, that prevented my members from atrophying, yes, I thought of everything, if it was to pretend, I would use the complete package. He positioned my iPad along with my cell phone in front of my head and joined the toothpicks with my Apple pen and straw, as well as my chair, which I would use to move the stand to the side if I didn't want to use it more. Everything was within reach of my mouth and my head. The toothpicks were further down, where I could easily
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Written from a word prompt by
(much thanks, and for the critique.
)----
In regards to my "bad foot"
in the poem,
I have mild cerebral palsy
& always referred to it as bad,
at a young age.
My attitude has changed since then.
Thank you for reading.
© 2007 - 2024 ohfever
Comments31
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I have Cerebral Palsy also, but for some reason it is defined as 'moderate.' I love this.