Two poems


opening to receive
each thrust as a prayer
plunging straight to the heart
of God;
and fast of pleasure:
pain draws God nearer.

this cycle around
i carry God’s
and keep it
Under wraps.

i call out to God
living within:
are you tired already?
It’s not yet time
it’s been only a few weeks
we have so many more
to go. Don’t go
don’t you dare!

a full cycle.
another life


It was written of Jesus,
That virtue left him
To heal the woman with
the issue of blood
I know about bleeding
And I know about losing virtue
In my case, you see,
I am the woman with the issue of
Blood, and the one also
From whose body virtue

I look around to see where
My virtue went to.
I see myself trembling
Eyes closed, libations pouring
From my lips, ears straining to pick
The echo of life from the
Cold probe peeking into my uterus

I know about mindlessly pushing
Through throngs
Desperately searching for the
Messiah. On that couch in the
Doctor’s office, I searched among the
Disharmonic sounds crowding the room
Pushing and parting till all my senses became
Tuned to hear the rhythms of life
Finding none: my messiah gone.

In the story, the woman found healing
In her dry fountain
My dry fountain brings bruising
And death.
Her story starts where mine ends:
With blood and bleeding
Broken body. Bruised heart
And a soul in need of


6 thoughts on “Two poems

  1. I’m trying to make complete sense of this Narration that’s gotten two tales intertwined. On the one hand, one woman struggles with the issue of blood and on the other, another cries out ’bout her virtue having departed from her and am guessing the latter’s to do with loss…. stillbirth, and the virtue…her child that’s dead on arrival.

    I like how you likened virtue here to loss of a child, that’s really clever and one of many imageries that characterizes this super abstract piece. Nicely conceived Doc absolutely complex nonetheless; definitely not for the simple-minded. 😁


    1. Lol. The poems actually are about one theme: loss.
      As for the imagery about loss of virtue and loss of a child, i liked it too.
      The poems are not as abstract as you take it to be – they are actually simple.


  2. Wet-dry-moist-wet…
    Dreams dashed, world crumbling…
    Superb imagery. I walked in this character’s shoes and felt the pain as mine. Nicely done, sir.


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