No Sense of Self
I set sail across the Circle of Willis
An anathema among mankind.
The vessel I’ve chosen is a more than capable craft
Able to withstand the potent winds
Along the Canal of Schlemm
The constant pounding causes me to become albescent
Eyesight grows murky, as if covered by cataracts
Lost in an endless sea of swirling memories
Acquaintances are but caliginous specters
Coming and going with amorphous apathy
An incorporeal voice rises above the squall
“How are we feeling today?”
The bow of my boat pitches to and fro
Odd that such a sweet sound should be heard here
in this hellish hemisphere
Her brachylogies are brief, but kind.
The stench of bleach, ammonia and Pinesol
Invade my nostrils.
I am hesitant to use the dysphemism, “looney bin.”
yet my condition has left me no choice
A forgotten relic
within an Alzheimer’s community
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Comments
A personal write of sensitivity and courageous integrity which measures important fundamentals against circumstance. You are a dedicated poet of nerve and verve willing to employ an approach that commends itself to raising coherent messages of worth.
Constant allegiance to structures giving real justification to a principled stance.
Commendable.
Take care. Wishing you the best.Â
A truly wonderful read... showing many strengths which most now lack, truly wonderfulÂ
Lol .I really like that.. My grandpa would enjoy as i did
Dear Mr. Dean
This a beautiful work. It truly captures how beautiful a mind is even after encountering this horrible disease. "Lost in a sea of swirling memories" I absolutely loved this line, it represents how much is in the characters mind, but is just out of reach.
Yet another masterpiece
Â
-Anonymous Anonymous
Thank you so much for reading and commenting, A.A.
My father is my true-to-life hero and has always been there for me.
If I needed advice on something that was troubling me he always had the logical, most practical answers.
Now for Dad, logic and practicability have deserted him.
But I still know dad is "in there" ... somewhere.
Hugs!
~Dean ♥
Hello Dean,
Having been a live in caregiver for Daniel, aÂ
gentleman with AIDS related Dementia, you’ve captured the fear, confusion and fractured memory very well.
I watched, as I’m sure you did, the gradual theft of a mind, Daniel would get so frustrated that he could take in everything we said to him, and immediately knew what his retort was to be, but as soon as he started verbalizing, he’d “ lose the thread”(Daniels phrase).
In time we actually had to cover all the mirrors in the house, he was sure people were coming into his home and stealing his works of art, Daniel was an amazing artist in many media’s, mainly a painter, however, one of amazing talents was knitting amazing sweaters, I’m talking museum quality, some day “Antique Road Show” will be holding up one of those knitted masterpieces.
This is what Daniel was sure these thieves were taking...
One tip I always convey to relatives , Do Not Correct their confusion, first of all, you’ll never ever going to be successful, secondly, they’re already confused, scared and aware that things are ALL WRONG, why add to this by telling them, No dad, I’m Billy, not Jackie, just be Jackie, it’s the kinder, less upsetting approach...
By the way, the poem “Smoke Rings” was inspired by Daniel, back then, I was a smoker and enjoyed. blowing smoke rings, one day Daniel’s eyes lit up in awe, he said that my smoke rings conjured up memories of his father, who also was a smoke ringer...
Dean, I feel for you my friend, this is one of the toughest turns for not only your dad but All who love and care for him, be strong my friend.
Yes, you're absolutely right, Bill.
Dad blames my mother for this happening to him and it's killing her.
However, we all know that's not the truth.
My Dad is my hero. He always has been and always will be, no matter what.
As a mechanical engineer his mind, coupled with a gentle nature and giving soul, were his greatest assets.
He feels as if everyone's deserted him; just thrown up their hands and given up.
It's heartbreaking.
He just keeps repeating, "I want to go home!"
That simply isn't possible right now as he gets extremely violent and combative.
I appreciate you taking the time to read this and share your thoughts with me about the poem.
Warmest wishes,
Peace.
~Dean Kuch ✌