NaBloPoMo : Dementia , Alzheimer’s Cruel Game.

image from here

They are not in there they have gone.
Don’t search for the beautiful light that once shone,
They are not themselves, their soul has fled
Gone to us, to all purposes dead.
How cruel, how mean, how so unkind
To leave a feeble body and take a beautiful mind.
There are no words that can truly describe
The pain and fear of those trapped inside.
They can not reason they know no rhyme
They are gone and we are left behind.
Recognition in the eyes is sadly mockery.
This is no longer them, they are not who they used to be.
Screams of anger, voices harsh with fists of hate
You try so hard, you have so much on your plate.
There is no more that you can do.
They may be gone, still you try to be true.

Sue Vincent’s #writephoto . Yearning.

This is part of Sue Vincent’s #writephoto. Yearning.

Sue Vincent’s#Writphoto.
Hi everyone just a quick note if anyone would like to re-post any of their old #writephoto prompts please do. While Sue is not posting a photo prompt due to not being well, she would love to see old ones reposted.Now if you would like to join in please use the #writephoto badge

A few years back we visited my sister and her husband. It was a 12 hour day, full of laughter because if you don’t laugh it would be too sad. My sister robbed of her loving husband and best friend for over 60 years. Alzheimer’s is a curse it affects not only the suffer but everyone they love.

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a channel of water flowing out to sea, with the sun reflecting on the water

a channel of water flowing out to sea, with the sun reflecting on the water.

Is it dusk or is it dawn .

He no longer knows

Watching the shine of the water as it flows.

Lost to to us, he is so forlorn.

Waking she wonders what will today be like

She yearns to talk to him and see recognition in his eyes

He is just like a dizzy child, who her patience tries

Impossible to cope all conversation trite.

We are strangers he doesn’t know.

Though for years he has watched me grow

He is a prisoner now of lost hopes and fears.

To see him now brings tears.

Alzheimer’s is a cruel thief

We yearn for a return of memory

Like sunlight on the sea

Like a yearning with no relief.

#writephoto

RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #257 Rip&Mend

This is part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge.

Why can I not mend

The confusion in your brain

Memory ripped out.

He is out in the garden.

He is out in the garden with the secateurs again

The flowers are looking nervous and praying for rain.

The airing cupboard is wearing a smile

He’s is busy elsewhere so it has peace for a while.

We need to eat, it must be time for dinner.

No but we have pie and custard, always a winner.

Who is this woman, what is her name

It is my sister I have told you again and again

The gentleman is nice but why is he here

He is my sister’s hubby my dear.

Oh!You are busy, too busy to call?

Yes I’m okay I just cope with it all.

Thing is I am tired and really stressed

I’m at the end of my tether but doing my best.

He is out in the garden with the secateurs again

The flowers are looking nervous and praying for rain.

I am so lonely, with no conversation

I need some company for self-preservation.

*********

I wrote this poem about Altzhimers after a telephone conversation with my sister this morning.

Twittering Tales #139 – 4 June 2019 – Book Titles

books-1039985_1280

Photo by Portrait of Tracy at Pixabay.

Tuesday afternoon, three hundred steps away. Two hours sanctuary at the library, he always has a carer so she’s not worried.
Books don’t ask questions, they don’t get agitated they were quiet.
She smiles chats advises be herself not a carer. Pratchett he made her remember.
(280 Characters)

My sister’s husband has Alzheimer’s. Though she has help her life is so changed. He is no longer a husband but a confused child. She has to cope 24/7 with strange quirks, confusion, and difficult behaviour. She helps in the library for a couple of hours a week while hubby has a carer. ….. Such a cruel disease.

This is part of Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.

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