Back in this place again
This place of doom and gloom
Bloated stomach passing for womb
Once I was well and pain
Was something felt from a
Prick of thorn or cut of steel
Not as now when it grows
From a live seed
Planted deep, sown down
In furrows, virulent its saplings writhe
For supremacy, squealing for
Sugar and coffee and tea
Cake and wine and syrup and cream,
Drops will not do, bring
Buckets for bowls, Life must
Be strained and stretched to
Feed Pain’s sweet tooth.
Notes on the poem
I wrote this 14 years ago, when I was struggling with a pituitary tumour and acromegaly.
I’m starting to include poems from this period of my life, from my first site : creativecoping.wordpress.com.
I think the past, in all its forms, memory, history, monument, is useful to the present.
By resurfacing these poems, I hope to remember the lessons life gave me then.
Revisiting old poems truly helps us measure progress, or recognize repeating patterns. The photo and title resonated – pain does have a sweet tooth!
Yes! So well put and glad it rang true for you!