The Cheering by Belinda Subraman

The Cheering

Sorrow is hollow ground
with dried mud
cracking trapped space.
It’s wearing green screen suits
against a green wall
freezing everything but faces
with movies projected on cheeks
we watch in the nude
drinking opinionated Scotch
with American inhalable fear.
We are molecules, cells
invisible parts of something
that brightens in abundance
or bounces in 4:00 AM non-stop minds.
Hyperbole is our common name
trained to the glare that scares and moans.
We move as if concrete were setting
on multiple alternate lives.
Sensation is the escape we love.
Imagination winks us on.

 

 

Sculptures by Belinda Subraman

Thanksgiving Poem

Thanksgiving

I’m thankful for
this brown carpet
with human fuzz
the sound of feet above me

the winds howling outside
me warm inside
alone but sheltered

the womb warmth
of my own soul energy
and of those I’ve gladly known
our cascading colors of light
happily perplexing
in this fluctuating perpetuation
of life

2.

the intensity of youth
the sharp, edgy freedom
spending time

coins with their edges rubbed off
that’s what it’s like
to be older

3.

I was three quarters
and felt everything
more than it should be
my hands colder than snow
the wind the howl of the artic
I shivered with Christmas hymns
all the way back to Santa
in the magical frightening world of child
I tingled with glad, knowing numbness
then I was transported
connected to every atom in the cosmos
I was cold and warm
I was there and I wasn’t
I knew and I was innocent
I loved and I was vacant
I was human, vegetation
and the swirling forces
blackness and pure light
then I realized
everything is infused with soul
I am a seed and I have grown
I am a part
I am whole

Thanksgiving Poem by Belinda Subraman
If you like Thanksgiving poem you may want to read Belinda’s Cinco de Mayo poem .

Thank you for your visit.

Nurse Appreciation Poem

nurse appreciation poem

Age makes destruction of minds–
stubborn machines.
Word salad is served with weather,
hooks to passing signals in the stratosphere.

L., in her 90s, leopard skin top,
no bottoms, one over the knee valentine’s sock,
speaks sunshine and storm in the same breath.
She is looking for Ohio in Texas
not knowing what state she’s in
or room.

T., is stalked by the devil,
paces the hall in fear,
wants to explain but can’t.
A fist forms as his eyes cry out,
“Get me out of here!”

S., shouts obscenities,
demands his dead wife help him,
rises and falls from his wheelchair,
is caught before he is floored by reality
and physical pain.

Nurses hold hands with despair,
serve gentleness with sedation,
talk to the lights within.
Storms blow over, devils disappear.
Mother is waiting in the next room
to tuck them in.
A smile emerges through the clouds.
Compassion is the language
always understood.

Nurse Appreciation Poem copyright 2012 Belinda Subraman