'Flash' writing anthology about chronic pain - submissions welcome!
Wedged between sky and river The birch, plaiting scarred spines, joins Ochre leaves to Cirrus clouds. In the wedge of bed and window Your wounded limbs endure A throbbing rhythm to misting dew Autumn wraps a sultry cage Of alizarin crimson. She entwines the rising bone To breach the slough of heaven Branches thunder and […]
Just a little twist, a sideways step to dodge out of the path of an eyes-forward businessman on a mission. My hip twists with the sideways step, then ankle and finally, knee. It’s a searing pain, stabs straight through the joint like a missile and there’s a battle taking place in there. My face is […]
There is too much light in the air today. My eyelids won’t retreat; they’re the heavy squad, repelling all invaders. My protection from a day too heavy for me, for my chest, my arms. my legs. I can only lie down beneath its weight. Breathing takes will. Push, push the invisible hand up, feel it […]
(After Tennyson’s ‘The Dying Swan’) In this wasting plain a Wedge of swans Tangle in water So deep her eyes In the gyring ferment I am impotent Warming blankets only burn The stab I cannot touch her I cannot reach her To this berth I cannot go She writhes White feathers Drop around her bed […]
On Scarborough beach, I played football. This image is one of my new paintings. It is autobiographical and consists of two halves. One half reflects my early life growing up in Neepsend, an industrial area of Sheffield. The other half depicts me, as a child, on the beach with my football. by Paul […]
Eight months of pain, guilt. Losing my movement slowly, Affecting my work.Pain in my hip, back, Encroaching on everything. Physio: please help.Boss can’t understand, Pretended it wasn’t bad. I used to be fit. Practicing patience, Trying to be kind to self. But some days that’s hard. by Vanessa [This image shows my legs in […]
by Nicole Brown
by M. F. DeMaurisha U. K.
Today I was issued with hand splints. Carapaced; oddly reassuring, oddly restricting; Even in their disposition. I am that crab. Their bindings have an onomatopoeia: irascible. by Ruth Victoria Chalkley Additional poems hosted on other websites: Tanzkarte NHS; Carrier Pigeon for Science U.K.
I’m poeming this poem from a forest-boreal transition zone anticipating intense public reaction to my poem against the bony mets that XXXX up my posture & infiltrate our nat’l backbone its prostate biopsy analogy lost/inapparent in the sagamore gloam this spine unresponsive to the pre-patent analog that is my poem by Maureen Miller doctorwritermaureenmiller.tumblr.com [This […]