Conscious Ooze Poets

On The Ward

 The Cytarabin will drip into me slowly over three hours

I’m all alone here, after 7.30pm

Just the tick tick tick of the pump

And the endless narration of mindless crap from the TV’s

Why am I here?, in solitary confinement

Thinking of dying before I thought I would

Listening to music that might take my mind off the precariousness of this situation

My piss is green!!, I feel hollow.



That bags finished, so the pump says

Here comes the nurse, hi!, Yeah I’m (not) OK.

Connect the next one

If it’ll work, I don’t care if I puke, or shake a lot

Just pour it in

Can you turn off the TV?.



2.36am, looking out across the city

lots of lights

It’s dead quiet

And for the first time

I’m scared to sleep.

by Lawrence Westland

copyright©Lawrence Westland 2010

Hiding - photo by Maggie Westland


                                                                                          Another poem....