A tip from Betsy: Save these poems for another day if you are “down” or anxious. However, be sure to read them some time as they speak to the frustration and anger that the pain of PD can elicit. To me, Wayne’s poems are oddly comforting. He has the unique ability to put words to feelings and emotions that I never thought could be described.
By Wayne Gilbert
1) to my body (especially my legs)
what?
huh?
i can’t understand you—
slow down—
i can’t make out a single word—
what are you trying to say?
can’t you speak plain simple english?
whuh?
dammit!
i’m not reading you just don’t get you at all
you’ve got to talk to me in some way i can understand or i just can’t help you
simple as that
ow!
hey!
that hurts—
2) from your body (to your mind)
i’ve spent a lifetime
trying to communicate
with you
you have ignored me
made no attempt
to learn my language
i’m incapable of mental chitchat
your disembodied frameworks structured ideations structured postmodern conceptual
analyses
smoke-talk
i only know one way now
after 60 years trying
to get through to you:
pain
pain means stop!
pain means take care of me—now!
pain is my 9-1-1 call
to impervious rationality
your call-taker is incompetent
should be fired or re-trained
times have changed
you overruled my needs
too often too long
now you must pay
attention
or i’ll be
unavailable
at all
i’m not threatening you
(well maybe a little)
it’s a fact
this part of your life
belongs to me
i deserve it
i earned it
you sacrificed me
to our limit
only a fraction remains
of what we were given
i’ll help you but
i need you first
to care for me
my “language” is simple:
i hunger
i ache
i tire
give me what i need
if i was your grandson
you’d know better how
to do what was needed
when it was needed
always now
with compassionate urgency
i’m not cute
i’m not gurgling giggling
with promise potential
i’m old
used
nearly done
my days are few
to walk with you
i still want
to walk with you
but it’s me
must come
first to you
it’s me
requires you
to sacrifice now
for us
to finish
together
