Somewhere
Along the line
Her body died
Holding her spirit's hand
Hiding in plain sight

Your eyes aren't fooled
Rising from the ashes
A monster is reborn
Second chance of living
Righting the wrongs
He's been given
This is his journey
So glad
You can share the story
With him

A towering colossus
Nine and a half stones
Mountains crumble
Every thundering footstep
The earth quakes
Shuddering
In anticipation

Voice booms
Across vast plains
And oceans
Howling werewolf-esque
His mind entranced
By testosterone-fuelled rage
Portrayed in nightly violence
Torturing his enemies
Sleepwalking nightmares

An insatiable appetite
For meat
He's borderline
Cannibalistic
Killing vampires
With a single breath
Of his garlic stench

Sexual frustration
Expressed in dreams
Shagging sturdy tree trunks
Eyes detect a penis
In every conceivable object

Every pass a mirror
He morphs
Into a gorilla
Some may say
He's the real Yeti!

Gentle giant
Gives strangers cars
Pushing start
Thanks to superhuman strength
Come closer
He promises not to bite
This boy is becoming a man

Aching
No part of him
Is immune
From reoccurring
Growing pains
Interrupting slumber
Inferno of hunger
Grunting
He raids the fridge
Hunting a yoghurty feast
When the lights go out

Can't stand the heat
He's perpetually
Feeling tropical
Engulfed in herby sweat
Silent prayer
He thanks his Father
Dealing out
Such amazing genes
Considerably broader
In the shoulder
Mid-drift blubber
Podgy beer belly

Starts to crack
Into a sobbing wreck
Only to find
His teenage years
Robbed him of tears
Relatives residing
In grainy photographs
Afew jumping
Striking resemblance
No one could guess
To his Great Uncle Horace

Speaks in gravelly tones
If research is correct
He should have suitors
Left, right and centre
Forming an orderly queue
Under the mistletoe
Wanting his hand
In marriage!
One of the boys
Twiddling
his jewels
Behind closed doors
Do you think it's gross?
Truth be told
You did it yourself once!

Greasy and spotty
You'd be mistaken
For thinking
He's no older
Than twelve or thirteen
He's actually pushing thirty!

I'll repeat
If you didn't understand
First time around
She's dead,
Buried in his memory.

What will bring this beast
To his knees you ask?
A bowl of steaming
Peppercorn steak!

Why oh why
Do they make us try
To revive
beleaguered relatives
At any cost
We know it's not
In your best interests
When after all that's left
Is a battered shell
Odds stacked against
The most critical of patients
But follow instructions
We must

I've lost count
How many times
We've sat with families
Verbally twisting thier arms
Hoping they'll see things
From our medical viewpoints
What resuscitation means
Clouded by what eyes
see on TV screens
Flat-lined patients
Revived in a couple of shocks
And always nurses
bending thier elbows
Compressing a chest
By mere millimetres
This infuriates us
Resuscitation
If done by the book
Is brutal.

Let me tell you
About one such case;

Cold and dark
Secluded
Sectioned
From the
Rest of the ward
Eric's too weak
To live
Too strong to die
Once a pillar
Of society
He now appears
Closely skeletal
The sheets disguise
Deeping sores
That gnaw away
At Eric's rotting body
No one would
Recognise
The man he once was
He's skin and bones
Machines
Keep him from
Sliding into
Eternal death
Tubes and wires
Monitor
His decrepit organs
Eric's lips are dried
Bloody and cracked
Nutrition
Delivered by a drip
Eyes permanently
Vacantly staring
It's been ages
Since they blinked
Hallucinates
Day and night
Speech
Reduced to
Ahhhs
That takes carers
By surprise
In the twilight
Something stirs
A race horse
Galloping
He's nearly spent
Gasping
For his final breath
A heart over-compensating
Inside his chest
Herculean effort
One last sprint
Gulping
Each molecule of oxygen
Entering his nostrils
As his life
Whizzes past
Like a supersonic jet
His body shivers
Attempting to cool
The fever within
Burning radiates
Outwards from his chest
Screams and screams
No one listens
'Okay Boys!
Put on your helmets!
We're going down
In a hail of bullets
And grenades!'
Comforts himself with treasured memories
As he succumbs
To violent seizures
Circulation at a stretch
His brain orders
Heart and lungs
Speed up another notch
Limbs freezing
Heaven is knocking
His face looks pained
As he expels
shallow pants
His heart judders
To an abrupt halt.
Alone.
Front line staff
Know the truth
Depictions of
Resus techniques
TV fills your mind with
Is just too simplistic


Arms locked solid
Using every ounce
Of our body weight
We compress your chest
A depth of two
and half inches
Or if you prefer
Five centimetres
Look at a ruler
You'll realise
That it's deep
And we pump
Hard and fast
One hundred times a minute
Is the recommended rate
A couple of minutes
Going at such speed
Most people are exhausted
We're not a one man band
There's a team
Rotating
Taking turns
Pouncing on your chest
Ribs flex
But only so much
It's true and common
We break afew bones
Goes with a crack and crunch
If that's not bad enough
We yank your head back
Thrust a tube
down your throat
A bag and mask attached
Over your face
A nurse pushes oxygen
Into your lungs
Whilst all this happens
No let up in momentum
Keep jumping
On a human trampoline!
We've got another thing
Up our sleeves
Either side of your corpse
Two nurses hold your arms
Prods and pokes
Needles stab you
And we push drugs
Usually adrenaline
Into your veins
Another trick
If permitted
Sticky pads applied
Your body is shocked
and stunned
With enormous volts
We'd be lying
If we said
Patients don't jerk and jolt
Maybe not quite as much
As those in hospital dramas
Nonetheless
Electricity surging
through you
Certainly gives
A lifeless body
Some firey twitching
Reserved for
The worst of the worst
If all this fails
A rather bloody
And messy affair
We summon a surgeon
To rip your chest open
Ribs separated by clamps
We feel inside
Locate your heart
And squeeze it
In our hands
Heart massage
Is the term...

[ Continued ]

Every day,

Takes a million years,

To pass,

Seems like an eternity,

Living life in slow motion,

As tumble weed rolls by,

I've waited what could be,

A third of my time on Earth,

What's it you, if I wait,

A third more?

There's a knot,

In my stomach,

With every hour,

That chimes,

This knot gets tighter,

Show understanding,

Please,

I've walked this road,

As far as I can,

Now, is the time for you,

To carry the load,

This soul needs,

To feel at ease.

I can't quite explain,

How hard,

It is to see,

A reflection,

That tears your heart,

From being,

A small child,

Always knew,

My own mind,

But I was too scared,

To speak,

For I worried about,

What others would think,

For you,

It may not make sense,

This soul needs,

To find solace,

As soon as....

I feel like im drowing. I feel like im sinking deeper and deeper into depression.

I just want to cry, but I dont know if ill be able to stop if I start.

All I seem to do is imagine myself carrying out my suicide plan.

I want to self harm, in a particular place.

Tripping over tongues,

Apologising a trillion times,

Every time you get it right,

This soul's in paradise,

A life times pain,

Is being chipped away,

Day after Day,

A fire burning within,

Such a glorious feeling.