The Zen of Hospitalisation

 

i am stripped bare

shaven

and put under sedation

(( aham asmi - i exist))

awakening, the breath obscured  by a tube

  i am let out 

   from where i don't know

into a world of beeps and tubes

 nurses like angels swing 

  thru dark clouds of drugs 

(( morphia - soma ))

i am present in the moment

sitting up in bed

 someone brings me orange cordial 

(( nectar - amrita ))

the Buddha smiles but he is sharp

a needle goes in 

i am not the body that is suffering

(( i am breath i am prana ))

i watch the clock hands slowly plough the day

i push through the minutes like hours  

hours like mountains 

-  mountains of solid rock

this is the practice 

the sesshin

 - a routine of sharps

 "bed 14 is a 48 year old male..."

suffering is delivered in little morsels

and as a wash over everything

this is the business we attend to

  but then - 

   a mental flip 

   and there i am walking on Arunachala

   breathing cool air, touching moss on wet rocks

   seeing an empty sky

 there i walk 

 looking for my cave

 where i will sit and inhabit that close emptiness forever

back in the ward

someone is moaning. a tray brings soup.

a nurse lays a hot blanket on me

nausea rolling in my belly 

i am present for another needle

that night i get trapped in a dream

running around inside there is no escape

some task i must do.. a coil of rope.. 

but i have forgotten what it is i must do..

awakening i find my pain medication has worn off

the rope was the buzzer to call my nurse

i press the button and summon relief

*  *  *

when i was young songs and poems used 

to land in my hand like birds

    they still do

 but first i need to treck far into the mountains.

anniversary poem

 4 years and i was in a rush to go

to smiths (the musical haunt) it was

friday night, so i got the kids fed

then dashed off in the car like a typical

loon too much on ---

 Mayday i had my guitar yamaha

clutching its neck strtiding down the arches

of the Melbourne building - arrived a bit 

late - you were there with your white yamaha

in boots leading a sing thru of "Imagine"

 and I just thought - I could see u were

shy about it - i just thought how brave

and you know, good on you, for getting this old

motley greyish greying haired crowd to

mouth this Anthem - on Mayday

 that was the first time i saw who you were

though i recognised you from the past few months

in theat happy haunt of music - Nigel and Beth's -

and later knew about the Attempt and the string

of bad boyfriends - but in that moment all

I could see was your courage and the sort of

lantern you held, a hopeful light, in the gloom

 and a few weeks later at home in front of the

fireplace whipping off your pants, i knew the

bigger you of cheeks and bosoms and lips all very 

large in my sight so close up and the smells of 

sweet joules glistening in sweat. baby dats u.

 Four years later and we are in a paradise of birds and 

dogs, pigeon, chicken - the rest of a wider family 

some flown, some staying, but returning, the safety of the home

you also dipping in, then flying, then returning for nourishment

then off to box with the little children, your 100 charges

 Faced with a peculiar future I am just here in bed holding

onto the matress, your feathers brush my cheek, and I

think about us careering through time, out of control but steady,

safe but never sure, cause the adventure unfolds unknowingly

taking us from perch to perch. And i'm happy like that.

I'm happy you are safe wit me babe. The dark cloud glistens

on your brow but babe I know you can imagine our future too

- and that's the imagining that we as lovers do - when we

dont know the way but we know we need to get thru.

here's to 44 more years of lovin u.