I would rather be kept alive in the efficient if cold altruism of a large hospital than expire in a gush of warm sympathy in a small one.
quote by Aneurin Bevan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Sit And Wait/For Nothing To Happen
I SIT AND WAIT/FOR NOTHING TO HAPPEN
I sit and wait
For nothing to happen,
For the time to pass
Until the time of my hospital visit-
The day has been long tiring difficult
With little done in work
And yet not without its small pleasures -
Perhaps I do not have so much to do anymore,
I am seventy now-
But I am still alive
And must go on with it -
My friend will probably never leave this hospital alive-
I still have time
There is a breeze now
Tomorrow will be cooler
And I will try to begin again then.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hospital Food
Coming down through the alley
Trying to walk without a sound
It doesnt really matter
cause there aint no one around
Tip toe through the alley and
Tip toe through your life
You still got it coming
Be it gun be it knife
Next thing you know
Youre eating hospital food
Karaoke castration
Take the wasp alive
Hes gonna sting you anyway
And take you to the hive
Yesterday was suckin and
Tomorrows looking bad
Who knew that today
Was the only thing I had
Hospital food
Want some hospital food
Hospital food
Delicious hospital food
In your tribute album to the world
You must never forget
To sing the one about the cat
Whos always getting wet
He always got a problem
Hes a very bitter dude
And now hes complaining
About his hospital food
Hospital food
Its gonna help the medicine go down
Want some hospital food
Gonna take a walk without a sound
A little hospital food
Helps the spoonful of sugar come up
I want some hospital food
In your blender and in my cup
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Altruism
The voice of hope to the call of nature,
Come closer to me and feel my love;
Oh mankind! Arise to a call.
Love one another to make the world go round,
Hope is the ingridient of faith;
The voice of hope,
The strength of faith,
Love crowns all things.
Altruism, altruism! Arise to the call of hope;
The altruism of love which does unite us all,
All in one love with the message of hope;
From the North to the South and then,
To the East and the West;
Love one another without fear.
Our memories will grow with sensitivity and insight,
Live clean and be yourself;
For, loving yourself first means the love of all mankind!
Here we are today,
Love is the power supreme;
True nobility is revealed in selfless unobtrosive service,
Love one another to crown the day.
To the voiceless and the disadvantage,
Do your best to bring smiles on their faces too;
Cos', there is no vision except by faith.
Altruism, altruism, altruism! !
There is no faith except by hope;
So is the voice of hope to the love of one another.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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03-25=2010*** How In The Hell Are They Still Standing?
I keep seeing people who should be dead
They're not be in the morgue yet
I don't see why
What is keeping them moving breathing
My most recent sighting was
Just to the right of the front door
Of The San Francisco
Main Library
The Swig family and other old and new
Monied San Franciscans
Campaigned and fundraised
To pay for large rooms with their names
The library's many floors have decor
It even has a small deli
If you can pay for self-service coffee
Or the sandwich of the day
As you walk in off the street
You are greeted by
Large open space
Friends' of the Library Book Sales
Back outside in the cold
Just to the right of the front door
Stood a breathing
Dead person
There is no reason
I can see why
This person is still alive
What's keeping him upright
He's wearing grey sweatpants
Recently pissed in
Mismatched sneakers no socks
Ankles with blue black and red running sores
He's wearing a light long-sleeved shirt
I'm cold in my heavy sweater over my shirt
He put down his two plastice bags
Pulled out a bottle of vodka
Two big gulps saved some for later
I don't expect him to have a later
But off he walks steady on his feet
The seat of his wet pants facing me
The seat of his wet pants
Baffling me why is he still alive
Where does he sleep eat get warm
When and when in the hell will he die
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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The Hospital Ship
There is a green-lit hospital ship,
Green, with a crimson cross,
Lazily swaying there in the bay,
Lazily bearing my friend away,
Leaving me dull-sensed loss.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Numb is my heart, but you carelessly dip
There in the drift of the bay.
There is a green-lit hospital ship,
Dim as the distance grows,
Speedily steaming out of the bay,
Speedily bearing my friend away
Into the orange-rose.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Dim are my eyes, but you heedlessly slip
Out of their sight from the bay.
There was a green-lit hospital ship,
Green, with a blood-red cross,
Lazily swaying there in the bay,
But it went out with the light of the day -
Out where the white seas toss.
Green-lit, red-lit hospital ship,
Cold are my hands and trembling my lip:
Did you make home from the bay?
poem by W.H. Littlejohn
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Fire and Ice: love
the fire got me
it wont let me go
I'm all over the place
it still won't let me go
I dive into ice water
I am trying everything
but nothing seems to work
i am so cold and on fire
how could this be
maybe it's not
that i am on fire
but that i am ice cold
I see life
in slow motion
while I Am on the floor
waiting to expire
then I see
My love of my life
I feel warm
not fire
not ice
strength from no where
I get up
I start to cry
I give her a hug then
said babe
you saved me
once again
I Love You So Much
Please, Never Leave Me
poem by Walter Burlock
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My Heart Is Small
MY HEART IS SMALL
My heart is small
My mind also-
I cannot feel much
Or think much now-
I try by writing
To revive myself,
But I am small and cold
As the harsh winter rain outside.
I cannot somehow warm my soul within
Little words
Little lines
A poem of small feeling
In the deep dark of winter
On the coldest darkest night of the year.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Quiet and sincere sympathy is often the most welcome and efficient consolation to the afflicted. Said a wise man to one in deep sorrow, I did not come to comfort you God only can do that but I did come to say how deeply and tenderly I feel for you in your affliction.
quote by Tryon Edwards
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quiet and sincere sympathy is often the most welcome and efficient consolation to the afflicted. Said a wise man to one in deep sorrow, "I did not come to comfort you; God only can do that; but I did come to say how deeply and tenderly I feel for you in your affliction".
quote by Tryon Edwards
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accept my sympathy
In all sincerity
It is a pathetic pity
I merely offer sympathy
With such velocity
This sadness born out of the blue
That decides to levy itself on you
In your fixed stillness
I sense your illness
Accept my sympathy
You lost a pet
Somebody made you upset
Accept my sympathy
You lost a friend
Your broken heart is yet to mend
Accept my sympathy
You were once abused
Possibly at times wrongly accused
Accept my sympathy
You marriage is on the rocks
You got divorced, left without a buck
Accept my sympathy
You lost a fortune
Your voice can't sing a decent tune
Accept my sympathy
You lost in love or lost your job
Or perhaps at one stage got robbed
Accept my sympathy
Your life is a mess
Everything around you depresses
Whatever the circumstances
Accept my sympathy
And if I happen to show no sympathy
Please accept my sympathy!
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Sympathy In End
In all sincerity
It is a pathetic pity
I merely offer sympathy
With such velocity
This sadness born out of the blue
That decides to levy itself on you
In your fixed stillness
I sense your illness
Accept my sympathy
You lost a pet
Somebody made you upset
Accept my sympathy
You lost a friend
Your broken heart is yet to mend
Accept my sympathy
You were once abused
Possibly at times wrongly accused
Accept my sympathy
You marriage is on the rocks
You got divorced, left without a buck
Accept my sympathy
You lost a fortune
Your voice can't sing a decent tune
Accept my sympathy
You lost in love or lost your job
Or perhaps at one stage got robbed
Accept my sympathy
Your life is a mess
Everything around you depresses
Whatever the circumstances
Accept my sympathy
And if I happen to show no sympathy
Please accept my sympathy! By SARTHAK DAS
poem by Sarthak Das
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I could undertake to be an efficient pupil if it were possible to find an efficient teacher.
quote by Gertrude Stein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Prayers, Lie Cold
Arise my body, my small body, we have striven
Enough, and He is merciful; we are forgiven.
Arise small body, puppet-like and pale, and go,
White as the bed-clothes into bed, and cold as snow,
Undress with small, cold fingers and put out the light,
And be alone, hush'd mortal, in the sacred night,
-A meadow whipt flat with the rain, a cup
Emptied and clean, a garment washed and folded up,
Faded in colour, thinned almost to raggedness
By dirt and by the washing of that dirtiness.
Be not too quickly warm again. Lie cold; consent
To weariness' and pardon's watery element.
Drink up the bitter water, breathe the chilly death;
Soon enough comes the riot of our blood and breath.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Funerals
I have been to large funerals,
even had to conduct one for a friend.
There are so many mourners that the pallbearers
have trouble turning the coffin around.
Then there have been others
where only a handful of people begrudgingly go.
My mother had one of those
and the paramount of difference shows.
Large ones are attended to say goodbye and display respect
for all that they had done for others in their lifetime.
The small ones are attended as a sign of closure
for what they did not do in their life.
Large ones have many sad
because they have to say to them their last goodbyes.
Small ones are rather sad
for either they held no respect
or their circle of real friends were very few.
22 October 2009
poem by David Harris
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I'm not small, I'm space-efficient.
quote by Rachael Leigh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sympathy
(mark ashton, graham stansfield, david kaffinetti, stephen gould)
Now when you climb into your bed tonight
And when you lock and bolt the door
Just think about those out in the cold and dark
cause theres not enough love to go round
No theres not enough love to go round
And sympathy is what we need my friends
And sympathy is what we need
And sympathy is what we need my friends
cause theres not enough love to go round
No theres not enough love to go round
Now half the world hates the other half
And half the world has all the food
And half the world lies down and quietly starves
cause theres not enough love to go round
No theres not enough love to go round
No theres not enough love to go round
No theres not enough love to go round
And sympathy is what we need my friends
And sympathy is what we need
And sympathy is what we need my friends
cause theres not enough love to go round
No theres not enough love
No theres not enough love to go round
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My History Teacher
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
I sewed my heart up one little stich at a time
One shotty job done, it is true, but I
couldn't do it by myself, you coulda done the rest
But you went and ripped it right outta my chest
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
I wasn't even finished
I needed more thread
I got distracted by the
'Good' ideas you put in my head
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
You remind me of my delicate past
You remind me I'm good for nothing
You tell me that you love me[lies]
And remind me I wont be anything
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
You make me remeber what I've done
Because you make me remember I have no friends
You make me remeber It's all my fault
For making my happiness end
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
My ice cold blood
[you're not a warm-blooded creature]
Your ice cold stare
Is my HISTORY TEACHER
poem by Gabriella Franco
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Happy Heathen: (With limited apologies to G.K.C.)
The heathen's not efficient;
He sits down in the sun
And doesn't care a tuppn'y dump
When the day's work's begun.
He works to eat and eats to live,
All day he'll dance and sing;
And if you mention overtime
He laughs like anything.
But we are most efficient!
And, goodness! Look at us!
Our nights are filled with restless dreams,
Our days with fret and fuss.
And we can have depressions
And modern things like that,
And monoplanes and motor cars
And trousers and a hat.
The heathen's not efficient;
He does not value gold;
And when we'd teach him of its worth
He simply won't be told.
He'll hang gold coins about his neck
For foolish ornament,
While half a bread-fruit or a ham
Bring him complete content.
Oh, we are most efficient;
We'd pile up heaps of gold
And leave it to ungrateful heirs
When we descend to mould.
But the heathen's not efficient;
He is lazy, free, unkempt,
And from the highly civilized
Earns nothing but contempt.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Lily Palmer
She doesn't ask much of life poor Lily Palmer
Just a small cabin by the Gippsland sea
Where she might sleep and from the weather shelter
'Your dreams are small when you're in poverty'.
Her life's belongings in a shopping trolley
She push it up through Bourke Street Mall each day
A tattered figure amongst the wealthy shoppers
She show her years in wrinkles and in gray.
Some look at her with looks of human pity
Whilst some with looks of scorn ask who is she?
But she has learnt to cope with disapproval
Nor does she welcome looks of sympathy.
The Salvation Army give her food and clothing
Without their help by now she may be dead
And she sleep on hard bench at Spencer Street Station
I do not envy Lily her cold bed.
She's sixty six too old for the rough lifestyle
And far too old for sleeping in the damp and cold
Life's never easy for the poor and needy
And so much harder for the poor and old.
It has been said she has a son and daughter
And that she has not laid eyes on them for years
She raised them on her own when times were better
But for her past she doesn't shed any tears.
Faces of wealth and affluence all around me
And amongst them the face of poverty I see
Through Bourke street Mall poor Lily slowly shuffles
Indifferent to both scorn and sympathy.
Still she has her dream and her dream seem quite modest
A small cabin in Gippsland somewhere by the sea
Where she might sleep and shelter from the weather
Your dreams are small when you're in poverty.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cold Dark Small Room
cold dark small room
locked door, no more food
three little children, left here to play
fend for yourself is what he'd say
no light for days, no food for weeks
time has come to have our treat
play by the rules is what he'd say
then we would eat and bathe
cold dark small room
how I miss your solitude
wish I could wish I might
find some peace warm tonight
poem by Jeannie Schmidt
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