Sunday, June 01, 2008

Poet in Intensive Care Unit (ICU)

Yes, it’s lonely in the ICU
These machines will cease
Once I stop exhaling,
So I should go on, exist,
At least, to keep their mechanics going.

No blip, blip of my heart
Will be heard ever again,
No words, no rhyme, no crude comment,
No fights, no threats,
On my forum, or on my blog
If I cease this struggle
To keep these machines alive.

These contraptions, they embrace me,
Their tentacles, tubes,
Pin me down
Enclose me,
Twine a tightly choking grip
As if they are scared of losing me.

If I were I to break out
And reach for pen and paper
To make a small note
Scribble a short Haiku
Perhaps, a Villanelle
No, a short Sonnet
About the summer’s passing
Outside the blinded ICU windows;
And if I do that
I will recover from afflictions
They would be bereft and orphaned.

I must exist, yes, I should,
For these machines they would die otherwise.

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